Chapter Text
Orm stared at her phone screen, still in disbelief.
The notification had just popped up on Linder, the lesbian version of the famous dating app—and she nearly spilled her scalding tea all over the meeting folder.
She had been talking to LingLing for several weeks now.
Older. Incredibly sexy. And with that extra something—quiet confidence—that tied her stomach in knots and sent her thoughts drifting dangerously lower than they had any right to… especially in the middle of a meeting.
The photo she had just received stole her breath.
LingLing, standing in front of a mirror. Nothing but a Calvin Klein boxer, snug in all the right places. The clean lines of her abs, the perfect curve of her chest, the insolent confidence in her posture. Nothing obscene. Everything implied.
And that was exactly what made her mouth water.
Orm completely lost track of the presentation.
“Nice dessert,” Miu murmured in her ear, without even looking up from her laptop.
Orm jumped, flushed to the tips of her ears, and locked her phone in a panic, pressing it to her chest as if it could still betray her.
“You’re exaggerating…” she whispered.
But her heart was racing far too fast to lie.
Miu studied her, a crooked smile on her lips.
“Pervert.”
“Not at all,” Orm muttered, feigning outrage.
At the front of the room, Lena cleared her throat and continued speaking, unfazed.
Now properly provoked, Orm leaned toward Miu and whispered,
“Keep it up and she’s going to end up spanking you.”
Miu stifled a laugh.
“Don’t worry… already done. And I love it.”
Orm nearly choked, blushed even harder, and coughed to cover her reaction.
Miu bit her lip, trying not to laugh—delighted to have finally managed to rattle her friend.
When the meeting ended, Orm stayed at her desk, trying to refocus on her work.
She had been working for Journal L. Wonder for three years now, specializing in topics aimed at a female audience.
Originally, she had installed Linder purely for an article. A professional immersion. Nothing more.
And then there had been LingLing.
At first, it was a casual conversation. Then longer messages. More personal ones.
And without her quite knowing when the line had been crossed, their exchanges had become… unsettling. Suggestive. Loaded with subtext that forced her to reread every sentence twice.
Sometimes Orm wondered if she was losing control of her own investigation—especially now that the article was nearly finished.
Her phone vibrated again.
LingLing was calling her through the app.
Orm barely hesitated before slipping an earbud into her ear.
It wasn’t the first time they’d talked like this. For the past two weeks, it had become their new ritual. Their thing.
The first time, Orm had called in a panic.
She’d been followed in the street, her heart pounding, her voice trembling to the point of breaking.
Only later had she realized something else—almost embarrassing to admit.
LingLing’s voice. Terribly sexy. Soft, yet deep, with that subtle weight in her words that instantly soothed her. A voice that never rose, yet filled all the space.
LingLing had stayed on the line the entire time.
Calm. Present. Guiding her, reassuring her, until Orm finally made it through her apartment door.
Since then, those calls had taken on a different flavor.
Orm felt a warm wave spread through her, a familiar tension she tried to calm by crossing her legs under the desk.
“Didn’t you like the photo?” LingLing murmured on the other end of the line.
Orm sighed softly.
“You got your revenge.”
LingLing pretended to think.
“Hm… maybe, sexy,” she replied, deliberately stressing the word.
Sexy.
Orm briefly closed her eyes.
“You liked the audio.”
“I was hard in thirty seconds,” LingLing admitted with a low laugh.
Orm blushed. Talking like this… at work.
A voice suddenly popped up behind her.
“So, are you finally going to meet your Internet sweetheart?”
Orm jumped.
“Miu!”
On the other end of the call, LingLing laughed openly, amused by what she’d just heard.
“What?” Miu continued, feigning innocence. “She’s sexy, smart, and pretty nice. Your words.”
Orm hung up far too abruptly.
A few seconds later, a message appeared on her screen.
You listed all my skills… but the best one reveals itself in bed.
Want to evaluate it? 😌
Orm stared at the screen, her heart beating a little too fast.
She hesitated for a second, then typed:
You’re buying dinner first, right? 😉
She set the phone face down on her desk, as if that might calm the quiet fire still burning under her skin.
LingLing smiled, her voice laced with amusement.
“Tonight?”
Orm arched a brow, already prickly.
“You’re in a hurry for your dessert?”
A soft laugh slipped into LingLing’s breath.
“Madam Sexy… trying to play hard to get?”
Orm bit her lip—just enough not to answer too quickly.
She reread the conversation one last time.
Twenty-seven years old.
A grown woman. Responsible.
So why did she feel like a teenager caught red-handed, guilty of a delicious mistake?
She shook her head, pushed the thought away with a discreet sigh, and forced herself back to work.
Across the city, LingLing set her phone down on her desk.
She tossed her stress ball with perfect aim—swish. A satisfied smile spread across her face as she raised her hands in victory.
She barely had time to savor it before Tofu jumped on her, the golden retriever already determined to reclaim his toy—as if reminding her that some priorities couldn’t wait.
LingLing laughed softly, grabbed the ball…
and thought that tonight might be interesting.
Orm got home in the late afternoon.
Her mother had thought of everything: meals neatly stored in the fridge, clean laundry carefully folded. That familiar normalcy reassured her… and strangely heightened the vertigo of what she was about to do.
She tried on outfit after outfit.
A dress—too much.
Jeans and a shirt—not enough.
She stared at herself in the mirror, frowning. She simply didn’t know how to dress for this.
Her phone vibrated.
Can you send me your address?
Orm hesitated. Just a second too long.
Then she typed the address of a small grocery store two streets away.
She took a deep breath, finally decided.
Tight jeans.
Black heels.
A black top, low-cut, backless—just enough to feel daring without playing dress-up.
Another message appeared.
I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
Orm set the phone down, her heart suddenly racing.
Thirty minutes.
It was real now.
She was already waiting when she heard the engine approach.
A black motorcycle stopped right in front of her.
Instinctively, Orm stepped back.
Then the rider removed her helmet.
It was LingLing.
Just as beautiful as in the photos. Maybe more.
Fitted jeans, sneakers, a black cropped T-shirt. The edge of a boxer peeked slightly above the denim—a detail almost indecent in how natural it looked. Effortlessly sexy.
Orm froze.
LingLing stepped closer older, more confident… and yet just as hesitant.
A beat of silence settled between them.
A second too long to decide: a hug? A kiss? A polite cheek?
Awkwardness wrapped around them both.
Orm’s amber eyes met LingLing’s and that was enough.
LingLing lost all composure in less than ten seconds.
She smiled, a little too late.
Orm did too.
LingLing slipped her hands into her jean pockets, a bit too quickly.
“Oh… I—”
“It’s awkward,” Orm admitted in a breath.
LingLing smiled—genuine, almost nervous.
“Honestly, I had a lot on my mind. But right now… you’re really sexy. Even more so in person.”
Orm blinked, taken aback by such disarming honesty.
“And you’re… not bad either,” she replied, scanning her from head to toe, unable to stop herself.
LingLing let out a soft laugh.
“I want to kiss you. That’s… strange.”
She stepped closer. Too close to back away without really wanting to.
Their breaths mingled.
Orm swallowed.
“I’m pretty indecisive… so if you don’t make the first move—”
LingLing didn’t let her finish.
She kissed her—softly.
The height difference did the rest: LingLing naturally slipped her arms around Orm’s waist. Orm had to lean down slightly because of her heels, while LingLing remained grounded in her sneakers.
It was gentle. A little awkward.
A hesitant first touch, almost fragile.
And yet Orm found herself stepping back, her heart pounding too fast—not in rejection, but because everything was suddenly moving far too quickly.
LingLing took her hand and led her toward the motorcycle.
She grabbed a helmet and handed it to Orm.
“Here.”
Orm put it on. It fit perfectly.
LingLing smiled when Orm lifted the visor—the helmet framed her cheeks, softened her features even more.
“So… are you more of a motorcycle type?” Orm asked.
“Yes,” LingLing answered simply.
Orm tilted her head, a crooked smile on her lips.
“Interesting.”
LingLing raised an eyebrow, playful.
“Just interesting?”
“I prefer riding,” Orm replied, feigning innocence.
LingLing’s eyes widened. A split second of surprise… then she stepped forward and lowered Orm’s visor with a calm gesture—almost too controlled.
“Hold on.”
She put her own helmet back on, swung onto the bike, and started the engine.
A first burst of acceleration—just enough to force Orm closer. Startled, Orm instinctively grabbed on. LingLing gave a light tap at the small of her back, a silent confirmation.
Orm settled against her.
The motorcycle cut through the familiar streets of Bangkok. Neighborhoods passed by, recognizable… but without any apparent logic.
Orm frowned slightly behind her visor.
She knew where they were.
But she had no idea where LingLing was taking her.
And strangely enough, she was perfectly fine with that.
They stopped in front of the Secret Garden.
Orm blinked.
An innovative, sought-after restaurant—almost mythical. It took months, sometimes more, to even hope for a reservation.
LingLing got off first and helped Orm remove her helmet with an easy, natural motion. Too natural, even. She briefly ran her fingers through Orm’s hair to fix it, as if the gesture already belonged to her.
Orm froze.
“Are you sure…?”
LingLing took her hand without hesitation.
“Don’t worry.”
At the entrance, a man greeted them warmly.
“Good evening, Miss Kwong.”
The name hit Orm like a punch.
Kwong.
Keep & Kwong. A publicly traded company. She knew that name. She’d even written about it—when an all-female executive board had reached that level for the first time.
Orm slowed, then leaned closer to LingLing.
“You wouldn’t happen to have something to tell me… would you?”
LingLing looked at her, serious now.
“I also booked a room, for later. If you want.”
She paused.
“We’re two responsible adults. Nothing is mandatory.”
Orm held her gaze.
LingLing didn’t owe her any explanation.
And above all… she had never implied this was about money.
Orm gently squeezed her hand.
“Okay.”
Not because the place was exceptional.
Not because of the name.
But because she wanted to be there. With her.
Once seated, LingLing teased her softly.
“So, Madam Indecisive… should I choose for us, or do you want the honor?”
Orm smiled.
“Considering I’m guessing you have a black-and-gold card, I’ll choose.”
She opened the menu… then froze, clearly overwhelmed.
LingLing smiled, amused.
“I’d recommend something traditional Chinese. Simple. Effective.”
She paused.
“Fish. Since you don’t eat meat.”
Orm looked up, surprised.
“You have a good memory.”
LingLing held her gaze a second too long. When the waiter arrived, she ordered with ease. Then, without quite realizing it, her eyes drifted toward Orm’s neckline—just enough to give herself away.
“My eyes are up here, Madam Kwong,” Orm murmured, mock-stern.
LingLing smiled. A faint warmth spread through her chest.
“Fair enough.”
Orm straightened.
“Can I ask you three questions?”
LingLing tilted her head, intrigued.
“Only three?”
The game had clearly begun.
Orm took a slow breath.
“Why is someone like you on a dating app?”
LingLing smiled, sincere.
“Honestly… I downloaded it on a whim.”
She paused.
“You’re the first person I contacted.”
Orm smiled.
“So… a first time for everything.”
“I suppose,” LingLing murmured, amused.
Orm thought for a moment.
“Aren’t you afraid your name might affect your relationships?”
LingLing swallowed, then locked eyes with her.
“Journalist instincts kicking in, huh?”
A crooked smile.
“Look at you earlier. It took you barely thirty seconds to figure out who I was.”
Orm lowered her eyes slightly, a bit embarrassed.
“Sorry… work habits die hard.”
LingLing studied her, then inclined her head.
“Last question, Madam Journalist.”
Orm smiled. A real one—sharp, playful.
“If I don’t go up to the room tonight?”
Silence settled between them.
LingLing answered calmly.
“That’s fine. I’ll be frustrated. And a little disappointed.”
Orm held her gaze.
“But I’d be missing out.”
“Or maybe not,” LingLing replied gently.
Orm let out a small laugh.
“You’re good with words.”
LingLing smiled slowly.
“Yes. And my tongue can do wonderful things.”
Orm lost her composure.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, uncontrollable.
LingLing curved an amused smile.
“You’re very easy to tease.”
“Not at all,” Orm shot back immediately.
The dishes arrived, interrupting their sparring.
LingLing didn’t really like anyone touching her food. Yet Orm did it naturally—picked from her plate, slid her own toward her in exchange, without thinking. A simple gesture. Intimate.
A bit of sauce lingered at the corner of Orm’s mouth.
They exchanged a few words, but soon LingLing fell silent. When she ate, she liked silence. An almost serious focus.
Orm had noticed it a few days earlier during a call on her lunch break—LingLing had barely spoken, completely absorbed in her meal. Just like tonight.
Orm found it… cute.
“You eat like an ogre,” she murmured fondly.
LingLing was still chewing. She barely swallowed before replying,
“I’m not sure that’s really a compliment.”
Orm smiled, helplessly.
Then, without really thinking, she gently wiped the corner of LingLing’s mouth with her fingertip.
LingLing instinctively leaned back slightly… then froze, and let her do it.
Dessert time arrived.
LingLing set down her napkin, her smile already elsewhere.
“My dessert is waiting.”
Orm tilted her head.
“Really?”
LingLing held out her hand.
Orm took it.
“The dessert is still digesting,” Orm murmured honestly.
LingLing smiled, touched by the candor.
“Really…”
Orm looked at her a moment longer, then leaned in and kissed her—softly this time, without hesitation.
When she pulled back, she whispered,
“If we go up to that room, Madam Kwong… we won’t be leaving until tomorrow morning.”
LingLing inhaled slowly, her eyes bright.
“I’m ready for an in-depth interview, Madam Journalist.”
Their fingers stayed intertwined as they finally headed toward the room.
In the elevator, the tension was palpable—almost electric. They stood side by side, eyes averted yet heavy with intent, breaths a little too short. LingLing squeezed Orm’s hand a little tighter with each passing floor, as if anchoring herself. Orm felt the heat radiating from LingLing’s body, that mix of restraint and desire driving her wild. They didn’t touch more—not yet—not here, not under the cold neon lights and the discreet camera overhead. But their pulses beat in sync.
When the suite door finally closed behind them, the outside world vanished.
LingLing moved first. With a fluid motion, she grabbed the hem of her black T-shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her finely sculpted torso—the clean line of her abs, the soft yet firm curve of her chest beneath a simple black sports bra. She tossed the fabric aside, then kicked off her sneakers with a flick of her heel, barefoot on the thick carpet.
Orm, breathless, slipped off her black heels quickly, letting them fall with a dull thud. Before she could take another step, LingLing was on her.
She lifted her effortlessly—strong arms sliding under her thighs—pinning her against the closed door while devouring her lips. The kiss was hungry, urgent, tongues seeking, teeth grazing. Orm wrapped her legs around LingLing’s waist, her fingers digging into dark hair.
A raw, uncontrollable moan escaped Orm.
“Gently…” she murmured against LingLing’s mouth, her voice trembling.
LingLing froze instantly. She rested her forehead against Orm’s, their noses brushing, breaths mingling in short gasps.
“Sorry,” she whispered, eyes closed, sincere.
They stayed like that for a moment, motionless, smiling in the silence. A shy, complicit smile—almost childlike in the midst of all that heat.
Then the kiss resumed, slower this time. Deeper. LingLing carried her to the bed without letting go, laying her down with infinite tenderness on the pristine white sheets. Their legs tangled naturally as LingLing settled over her, her weight deliciously pressing.
Orm felt LingLing’s hand brush the buttons of her jeans. Slowly—almost reverently—LingLing undid them one by one, the fabric opening like an invitation. Orm bit her lower lip, already anticipating, her heart hammering against her ribs.
LingLing lifted her gaze, a predatory smile at the corner of her lips.
“You were fingering yourself in the audio,” she murmured, her voice low, rough, heavy with memory.
Orm swallowed, her throat dry.
“I was using my vibrator,” she confessed in a breath, cheeks burning.
LingLing let out a dark little laugh, almost a growl. Without another word, she slid her hand under Orm’s panties. Her fingers immediately found the burning, slick wetness—ready. Orm jolted slightly, a shaky sigh escaping her.
LingLing straightened in one smooth movement. She grabbed the waistband of Orm’s jeans and panties together and dragged them down her legs in a confident motion, sending them flying to the foot of the bed. Orm was bare from the waist down, offered, thighs parting reflexively.
LingLing looked between her legs, her own jeans still stretched tight over her crotch. Orm saw the bulge visibly pulse beneath the fabric, and a teasing spark flared again despite the heat consuming her belly.
“How many times did you listen to it?” she asked, voice rough, provocative.
LingLing lowered herself slowly, never breaking eye contact. She placed a kiss on Orm’s flat stomach just below the navel, then moved lower, brushing sensitive skin.
“Every night,” she answered against her skin, breath hot. “Imagining exactly this.”
Her lips slid over Orm’s pubic mound. Orm felt the light regrowth of brown hair—rough but not unpleasant—contrasting with the softness of the tongue that followed. LingLing kissed her there gently, almost chastely at first, then moved lower.
At the first stroke of her tongue—flat, broad, covering the length of her folds—Orm closed her eyes, a long, low moan spilling from her. Her hips lifted instinctively.
LingLing was testing her. Exploring with diabolical patience.
First the outer lips, which she licked slowly, parting them with the tip of her tongue to reveal the slick center. Then she moved up to the clitoris, barely grazing it—light, teasing circles that made Orm’s thighs tremble. She alternated: firmer pressure on the swollen nub, light suction that tore a muffled cry from Orm, then back to the lips, tongue pushing a little deeper, tasting, savoring.
Orm clawed at the sheets, knuckles whitening.
“Ling… fuck…”
LingLing barely lifted her head, lips shining.
“You like it when I taste you like this?” she murmured, before diving back down—this time drawing the clit between her lips while sliding two fingers inside, slowly, deeply.
Orm arched violently, a hoarse “yes” breaking free. LingLing’s fingers moved in rhythm with her tongue—curved, searching for that precise spot inside that made stars burst behind Orm’s eyes. She picked up the pace slightly, pressure increasing, suction more insistent on the clit.
Orm felt her orgasm rise like a wave—fast, uncontrollable. Her legs shook, hips rocking against LingLing’s face.
“I’m going to ”
LingLing didn’t slow down. On the contrary, she growled against her, the vibrations sending Orm over the edge.
The orgasm tore through her like an electric shock—Orm cried her name, body arched, muscles clenching around LingLing’s fingers as pleasure crashed over her in successive waves. LingLing kept licking her gently as she came down, prolonging the spasms until Orm weakly pushed her away, oversensitive.
LingLing rose then, half-lying over her, kissing her deeply—making her taste her own pleasure on her tongue. Orm answered the kiss eagerly, still breathless, trembling hands roaming LingLing’s back.
Orm felt a familiar pressure: LingLing trapped one of her legs between her own, keeping her from closing completely. Her hand slid back between Orm’s thighs, gently this time—almost cautiously—brushing over still-swollen, sensitive lips.
“I love your moans, Orm,” LingLing murmured against her mouth, her voice low and rough, desire still burning.
Orm opened her eyes, breath short, and met her gaze.
“Wait…” she whispered, a shy smile on her lips despite the delicious heaviness weighing down her body.
LingLing smiled back—a soft but predatory smile, eyes gleaming.
“I’m just going to prepare you,” she said calmly.
Her fingers returned, slowly stroking the outer lips, spreading the remaining slickness with deliberate slowness. First one finger, sliding easily inside. Then two, curved just right to brush that sensitive spot that made Orm jolt with every pass. Then three slowly, with infinite patience, giving Orm time to adjust to the fullness.
Orm buried her face in LingLing’s neck, breathing her in—sweat, a discreet perfume, and that singular note that belonged only to her. Her lips caught the older woman’s in a messy, deep kiss, while her body arched instinctively, craving more contact, more friction.
LingLing kept moving her fingers in a slow, deep rhythm, murmuring against Orm’s skin, her words lost between kisses.
“Keep doing that… sexy… your mouth is so beautiful when you moan like that…”
Orm moaned louder, the sound muffled against LingLing’s shoulder. Her hips were now rolling in time with the hand filling her, preparing her, stretching her gently. She felt every centimeter of those fingers sliding in and out—the perfect pressure against her walls, the thumb occasionally brushing her clit in light circles to keep her right on the edge without pushing her too fast.
“Ling… it’s… so good,” Orm panted, nails digging into LingLing’s back, lightly marking her skin.
LingLing slowly withdrew her fingers, drawing a small, frustrated whimper from Orm.
She rose onto her knees, hands going straight to the waistband of her already-open jeans. A low growl slipped from her when she finally freed herself—hard, thick, straining, the skin gleaming with pent-up desire. Her boxer followed, sliding down her muscular thighs before being tossed carelessly to the floor.
Orm watched her, eyes half-lidded, transfixed. Between LingLing’s legs, her cock stood proudly—veined, the tip slightly flushed. Orm noticed the small box of condoms already waiting—LingLing had planned ahead, discreet and prepared.
LingLing grabbed one, tore the wrapper open with precise fingers.
“Always protected,” she murmured with a crooked smile as she rolled the latex down her length, slowly, almost theatrically.
Orm blushed to the tips of her ears, a nervous laugh escaping her.
“Better keep it covered… it’d make people jealous otherwise.”
LingLing laughed softly, a deep, warm sound that vibrated the air between them. She climbed onto the bed, settling between Orm’s open thighs. Her hands first caressed the insides of her thighs, moving upward slowly, brushing sensitive skin without ever touching where Orm needed her most. Just enough to make her shiver.
Then she leaned in, teasing, her nose grazing Orm’s neck.
“I thought you liked riding,” she murmured against her ear, breath hot.
Orm swallowed, a provocative smile on her lips despite the heat burning low in her belly.
“Mm… maybe not the heavy calibers.”
LingLing raised an amused eyebrow. Without a word, she rolled onto her back in one fluid motion, pulling Orm with her. Now LingLing lay beneath her, arms slightly spread, cock standing hard against her stomach, waiting.
“Then I’ll let you ride my heavy caliber,” she said in a rough voice, eyes bright with challenge and desire.
Orm looked at her for a moment, breath shallow.
“LingLing Kwong…” she murmured, almost to herself, as if saying her full name made it all more real.
She straddled her, knees on either side of LingLing’s hips. She immediately felt the heat of her cock against her—hard, burning, sliding lightly against her wet lips but not entering yet. Orm took a deep breath, palms flat on LingLing’s sculpted abs to steady herself.
Slowly, she slid her hands upward, caressing taut skin, brushing over ribs, then reaching her chest. Her fingers grazed already-hard nipples, pinching them lightly. LingLing closed her eyes, a low groan escaping her, head falling back against the pillow.
Orm leaned down, capturing LingLing’s lips in a deep, languid kiss. Their tongues tangled as their hips instinctively sought each other. LingLing slid her hands down Orm’s back, along her spine, down to her ass, gripping firmly, spreading her slightly to better feel the friction.
Orm moaned into her mouth—a soft, almost pleading sound—and LingLing smiled against her lips.
“I really love your moans,” she murmured, biting Orm’s lower lip. “Keep going… let me hear you.”
Orm lifted herself slightly, one hand still on LingLing’s chest, the other guiding her cock to her entrance. She positioned herself, the tip pressing against her, then lowered herself slowly—very slowly.
They both sighed when the first inch slid in. Orm paused for a moment, letting herself adjust to the stretch, the fullness. LingLing opened her eyes again, pupils blown wide, fixed on Orm’s face—flushed, focused, devastatingly beautiful.
“Go slow… or don’t,” LingLing whispered, hands still on Orm’s ass, guiding without forcing.
Orm sank down further, taking her completely until their hips met. She stayed still for a moment, breath ragged, savoring the sensation of being filled, claimed.
Then she started to move.
At first, slow circles of her hips, rolling against LingLing, feeling every vein, every pulse inside her. LingLing groaned, fingers digging deeper into Orm’s flesh, helping her find the rhythm.
Orm gradually picked up the pace—up, down, up higher, down harder. The bed creaked softly beneath them, their breaths mixing in quick gasps. Orm’s moans grew louder, more uncontrollable every time she impaled herself deeply.
“Ling… fuck… it’s… so good…”
LingLing lifted her hips to meet her, thrusting harder with each descent. One hand left Orm’s ass to stroke her clit, rubbing fast circles in perfect sync with their movements.
“Ride me, Orm… take everything you want,” LingLing growled, her voice breaking.
Orm arched, hands planted on LingLing’s chest to steady herself, speeding up again. Pleasure climbed fast—too fast—almost painfully intense. LingLing felt the contractions around her, Orm’s walls tightening with every lift.
“I’m going to— Ling, I’m going to come—”
“Come… come on me,” LingLing murmured, speeding up her strokes on Orm’s clit, hips now snapping up into hers.
Orm tipped over the edge first—her body shaking with spasms, a hoarse cry tearing from her as she clenched violently around the cock buried inside her. LingLing followed almost immediately, letting out a deep groan, hips jerking as she spilled into the condom, pleasure ripping through her like a jolt.
Orm collapsed onto her, trembling, face buried in LingLing’s neck. They stayed like that, breathless, stuck together, sweat beading on their skin.
LingLing gently stroked Orm’s back, tracing soothing circles along her spine still slick with sweat.
“You’re… perfect,” she murmured into her tangled hair.
Orm lifted her head slightly, an exhausted but radiant smile on her lips.
“And you… you keep your promises.”
LingLing laughed softly, kissing her forehead with infinite tenderness.
“The night is still young, Madam Journalist.”
Orm snuggled closer, already ready for more. She slowly lifted herself, muscles still trembling from the previous orgasm. With calculated gentleness, she raised herself just enough for LingLing’s cock to slide free. It fell heavily against LingLing’s abdomen, still hard, gleaming beneath the used condom. LingLing groaned low, a rough, frustrated sound, hips twitching at the cool air.
Orm took hold of the used condom, removed it carefully, tied it with practiced ease, and tossed it into the small bin beside the bed. Then she reached for the box on the nightstand, pulled out a new one, tore it open, and rolled it slowly over LingLing’s still-rigid length. Her fingers moved with confidence, almost ritualistic, while LingLing watched, eyes half-lidded and hungry, breathing a little faster.
“Watch closely,” Orm murmured, licking her lips, legs still heavy with pleasure but her body burning with fresh desire.
She moved down LingLing’s body, first kissing the warm skin of her neck, then her chest. Her lips brushed firm breasts, capturing one nipple. She sucked gently, rolled it on her tongue, alternating light suction and small nips that drew a shaky sigh from LingLing. The other breast received the same attention—tongue circling the areola, then firmer suction until the nipple hardened even more beneath her mouth.
Orm continued downward, lips gliding over finely sculpted abs, tracing every ridge with her tongue. She kissed the center line, dipped to the navel, brushing it with a wet kiss, then lower—where the cock stood proudly, sheathed in fresh latex.
LingLing arched slightly when Orm finally pressed her lips to the tip through the condom. She kissed it softly at first, almost chastely, then opened her mouth to take it deeper. Her tongue played around the head, slid down the shaft, then spiraled back up slowly. She sucked with measured pressure, cheeks hollowed, eyes lifted to LingLing’s face to catch every reaction.
At thirty-three, LingLing surprised herself by how vocal she was. Deep, low moans escaped her with every downward motion, her voice rough, almost breaking.
“Fuck… Orm… your mouth…”
Her hips jerked instinctively, pushing a little deeper into the wet heat. Her fingers tangled in Orm’s hair—not to force her, just to anchor, to feel. She panted, abs tight, body strung taut like a bow.
Orm didn’t let her finish. She rose slowly, letting the cock fall back against LingLing’s stomach, shining with saliva and latex—still hard, throbbing, ready. Orm climbed back up her body, a mischievous smile on her lips.
“Is Madam Heavy Caliber overwhelmed?” she teased, brushing her fingertips along the still-rigid length.
LingLing answered with a light but firm smack on Orm’s ass. Orm jolted slightly, a small surprised laugh escaping her.
“Madam Journalist, I haven’t said my last word,” LingLing murmured, her voice low, almost dangerous with desire.
Orm sighed, rolling her hips gently so her sex brushed against LingLing’s again—a light, teasing contact, just enough to make them both shiver. She leaned in, lips grazing LingLing’s ear, nibbling softly at the lobe, tugging it slightly, then sucking it gently. LingLing moaned at the touch, a deep, involuntary sound vibrating against Orm’s mouth.
Orm straightened again, still straddling her, teasing the woman beneath her with a playful look. It wasn’t awkward—there was already that fluid, natural intimacy settling between them despite the first times. No discomfort. Just raw desire and a trust growing by the second.
LingLing looked up at her, eyes dark—almost black in the dim light of the room.
“I want to take you on all fours, your pretty mouth against the mattress… but I love your moans too much to deprive myself of them.”
Orm smiled—a slow, provocative smile. She let herself be turned when LingLing rolled her over with a fluid but determined motion. Not on all fours, no—LingLing chose classic missionary, sensual and intimate, bodies aligned, eyes impossible to avoid.
She settled between Orm’s open thighs, guided herself back to the slick entrance, then pushed in slowly—very slowly—inch by inch, savoring every sigh she drew from Orm. When she was fully buried, she stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to Orm’s, their breaths mingling.
Then she began to move—deep thrusts, slow at first, almost languid. Her lips found Orm’s ear, her low, warm voice murmuring against sensitive skin:
“Sexy… hot… wet… more and more…”
Orm moaned louder, hands gripping LingLing’s shoulders, nails digging in lightly. With each thrust, LingLing pressed her pubic bone against Orm’s, rubbing her clit against her pelvis every time she sank fully in. Their breasts brushed together with each movement, hard nipples grazing, sending electric jolts through both their bodies.
The pace gradually picked up, LingLing’s hips now snapping with more force—still controlled, always attentive to Orm’s reactions. She nibbled Orm’s earlobe, trailed down to her collarbone, placed a wet kiss there, then rose to capture her lips in a messy, passionate kiss—tongues clashing, teeth grazing.
LingLing felt her pleasure rise too fast, too strong—it was just too good, too intense: the way Orm clenched around her with every thrust, the moans vibrating against her mouth, the slick heat gripping her. She couldn’t hold back. Her body went taut, a rough groan tearing from her throat against Orm’s neck as she came first, still buried deep, hips jerking in uncontrollable spasms. She spilled in long pulses, pleasure crashing through her like a burning wave, leaving her trembling and breathless.
But she didn’t stop. As soon as she caught her breath, she slipped her hand between their still-joined bodies, found Orm’s swollen clit, and started to rub—fast circles, firm pressure, exactly the way she knew drove her wild.
“Come… come with me…” she murmured in a broken voice, still shaking from her own orgasm. “Let go, baby… I want to feel you come around me.”
Orm panted, eyelids heavy, already right on the edge. LingLing’s fingers sped up, relentless, while she remained deep inside—still hard and sensitive—amplifying every sensation. Orm arched violently, a hoarse cry ripping free as she clenched convulsively around her, spasm after spasm, the orgasm tearing through her like lightning. She cried LingLing’s name, nails digging into her back, her body shaking uncontrollably.
A few hours later, dawn barely filtered through the heavy curtains of the suite when Orm was woken by the insistent vibration of her phone on the nightstand.
She groaned, reached blindly, and answered without even checking the screen.
“Hello…?”
“SO? HOW WAS IT?” Miu’s gleefully intrusive voice burst through the line.
Orm jolted upright, hair a mess, the sheet sliding down over her bare chest.
“Miu…” she whispered, throwing a panicked glance toward the bathroom. The light was on. Water was running. LingLing was in the shower.
“Walk of shame or not?” Miu went on, clearly sipping her morning coffee with an audible, predatory grin. “Did you get yours? Tell me. I want the juicy details.”
Orm dragged a hand down her face, blushing to the tips of her ears. She instinctively lowered her voice.
“Miu… are you serious? What time is it… six in the morning?”
“Seven fifteen. And I’m already awake. I even made coffee in advance,” Miu replied, delighted.
Orm stifled a yawn, muscles still heavy from the night.
“Miu… I’m hanging up. It’s way too early for this.”
“Orm Kornnaphat!” Miu protested, stressing her full name the way only she could. “You’re not leaving me like this!”
Orm couldn’t help but laugh softly, covering her mouth to keep quiet.
“Make a lot of coffee.”
She hung up, flopped back onto the bed like a starfish, then rolled into the still-warm covers.
Five more minutes.
Just five.