🍌1: Steroid-Induced Manhood
The clatter of mechanical keyboards filled the open-floor office of Baek Food Holdings, but Rina’s sharp gasp shattered Harin’s concentration.
“Harin! Harin, look!” Rina whipped around in her swivel chair, her phone practically pressed against Harin’s nose.
Her eyes were practically sparkling.
“Have you heard? The new Marketing Team Leader starts tomorrow. I managed to sneak a peek at his HR profile preview—he’s an absolute god. Super tall, shoulders like a highway, and a jawline that could cut glass.”
Harin didn’t even lift her gaze from her spreadsheet as she pushed Rina’s phone away with the tip of her pen, letting out a sigh.
“Rina, please. Men like that are a public hazard,” Harin muttered, her fingers dancing over her ten-key pad. “The hotter they are, the lower their emotional IQ. They’re arrogant, unreliable, and usually expect you to worship the ground they walk on just for breathing near you.”
Rina pouted, pulling her phone back to frantically scroll through her messaging apps.
“You’re just saying that because you’ve gone completely cold-turkey on dating,” she teased, though her voice lacked any real bite.
Rina already had a drop-dead gorgeous, six-foot-tall boyfriend who adored her, so love stories came easy to her.
The casual joke hit Harin right in the chest, a familiar ache settling behind her ribs.
Cold-turkey? Harin thought. If only you knew.
She hadn’t given up on pleasure; she’d just given up on men.
After years of disappointing blind dates, ghostings, and men who couldn’t locate a clitoris with a GPS, Harin had retired from the modern dating pool. Real men were a lot of work for zero payoff.
Her real companions were waiting for her at home. Silky, body-safe, whisper-quiet, and absurdly reliable.
Who needed to navigate a fragile male ego when top-tier devices could guarantee an explosive orgasm in under ten minutes?
A small flush crept up Harin’s neck at the thought, but she quickly smoothed her face, cleared her throat, and ignored Rina’s nagging for the rest of the afternoon.
When the clock hit six, Harin was the first one out of her ergonomic chair. She packed her canvas tote in record time, offered a polite, generic wave to the evening shift, and practically sprinted to the subway.
The cold evening air made the thought of home feel like a warm hug. By seven-thirty, she had stripped away her tight corporate slacks, pulled her dark hair into a messy bun, and drawn a steaming bath scented with sweet vanilla oil.
Stepping into the hot water, the tension drained straight out of her shoulders. She leaned her head against the rim of the tub, pulled her phone off the bath tray, and tapped open a secure, incognito browser tab.
She didn’t even need to type out the full search query—her auto-complete already knew her guilty pleasure: ‘Leo.’
The video loaded instantly in crisp HD. Harin’s breath hitched before the sound even turned on.
There he was. Broad, sun-kissed shoulders, abs so heavily defined they looked sculpted out of granite.
Harin sank deeper into the tub, the warm water swirling around her waist. Her hand slipped beneath the soapy surface, her thumb trailing down her inner thigh until it found the swollen, sensitive clit between her legs.
God, his tongue...
On screen, the camera zoomed in as Leo parted his lips, burying his face between his partner’s thighs. His long, broad tongue worked with precision, swirling, licking, and devouring every inch of that pussy.
Harin let out a soft whine, her thumb circling her dripping clit in time with the video.
“Mm...Leo..." she whimpered, the name slipping past her lips into the quiet, steam-filled bathroom.
She parted her thighs wider, the water sloshing softly against the porcelain. Slowly, she pushed two fingers deep inside herself as she closed her eyes, trying to force her mind to turn her slick, warm fingers into the hot, rough friction of Leo’s tongue.
Harin pumped her fingers faster, arching her back as the heat built in her core, but the sensation fell just short. Her own hand couldn’t give her the overwhelming sensation she was craving.
It wasn’t deep enough. It wasn’t full enough.
It wasn’t enough.
She opened her heavy lids, her chest heaving as she stared at the screen where Leo’s muscle-bound back flexed on loop.
A frustrated whine escaped her throat as she pulled her wet fingers free from her pussy.
It was time to call in her real besties.
Harin stepped out of the bath, wrapping a plush towel around her wet torso, and padded barefoot toward her bed. Slipping off the towel, she sank into the cool sheets and parted her thighs, letting the cold air hit her slick, aching hole.
She reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out her holy grail: her rose-gold clitoral suction vibrator.
On her phone screen, resting against a pillow, the video was reaching a fever pitch. It was almost absurd that the female co-host had already cried out through three staggering orgasms, her body twitching violently every time Leo’s tongue lapped at her slick folds.
Harin turned on the device, feeling the familiar, low thrum against her palm, and set it to level three. Normally, when she was impatient, she’d crank it straight to level five. But tonight, she wanted to savour it. She wanted to suffer a little.
She aligned the soft silicone suction mouth over her swollen, sensitive clit. The moment the vacuum sealed against her skin, drawing her clit into its warm, pulsating chamber, a sharp gasp burst from her lips.
“Ah...mmph...”
The targeted, rhythmic air waves began to massage her clit relentlessly.
Harin squeezed her eyes shut, her hips instinctively arching off the mattress.
This was precisely why she didn’t bother with real men.
A real guy would be clumsy. He’d rush straight for the main event, huffing and puffing like he was running a marathon, completely clueless about the slow, delicate art of foreplay. They didn’t know how to handle a woman’s body, or maybe they just didn’t care to learn.
Granted, Harin had never actually let a man into her bed to prove her theory, but internet horror stories and her own cynical logic told her enough.
Her bestie, on the other hand, was completely devoted to her pleasure.
“Mm...ah..." A low, unrestrained moan slipped from her lips.
Leo slammed his hands down on the co-host’s hips, pinning her firmly to the mattress as he gave one final lick of his tongue. The woman let out a strangled shriek, her thighs clamping around his head as she squirted all over his face.
Harin watched through hooded, heavy-lidded eyes.
God, I want that, she thought, a shudder running down her spine. I want to ruin his pristine, perfect face like that.
She reached down with a trembling thumb and bumped the setting up to four.
The suction tightened, the vibrations buzzing violently against her core.
She was right on the edge, her whole body drawn taut like a bowstring.
“Leo...please..." she whimpered.
Over months of late-night “research,” Harin had memorized every single detail of his videos. Leo wasn’t just a performer; he was an absolute tyrant in the sheets. He commanded the scene. He controlled the rhythm, deciding exactly when his partner was allowed to touch him, and—most importantly—when she was allowed to cum.
And if she stepped out of line? If she dared to break his rules or chase a climax without his explicit permission?
Harin shivered, recalling a clip from last month where Leo had flipped his co-host over his knee, his broad palm coming down hard against her bare, reddened ass cheeks until she was sobbing out apologies.
The mere thought of that hand pinning her down, asserting absolute control over her body, sent Harin crashing straight over the edge.
She let out a quiet moan as her climax hit her so hard her vision blurred. She clamped her thighs shut around her bestie, her back arching off the mattress as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her, leaving her utterly breathless and panting into the room.
Harin didn’t even remember powering down her bestie, let alone drifting off to sleep.
There was truly nothing on earth quite like an orgasm-induced sleep—a deep, blissful weightlessness that settled into her bones and wiped her mind clean.
She owed her sanity, and her nightly rest, entirely to her three besties.
Harin lay sprawled across her bed completely naked, the covers tangled around her ankles, her trusty sucking device resting safely on the mattress right beside her hip.
Until a loud moan tore through the silence of her apartment.
“Ah—! Oh, god, right there—!”
Harin’s eyes snapped open. She blinked through the haze of sleep as she groaned, blindly reaching out toward her nightstand to check her phone. The glowing screen blared back at her:2:14 AM.
She buried her face into her pillow, suffocating a frustrated scream.
Who on earth was having explosive, earth-shattering sex at two in the morning on a Thursday night?
Well, plenty of people, probably. But who moaned loud enough to wake up the dead?
This wasn’t even the first time. Ever since a mysterious new tenant had moved into the apartment right next door a month ago, Harin had been forced to endure occasional late-night disturbances.
It had happened twice before, but both times had been subdued—muffled grunts and soft thumps against the shared wall that she could easily drown out with an AC.
Tonight, however, sounded like a full-blown adult film production was happening on the other side of her drywall.
“Oh! Yes! Faster—!”
“Are you serious right now?” Harin muttered into the dark room, throwing off her sheets.
Did her new neighbour not understand basic apartment etiquette? The walls in this modern complex weren’t paper-thin, but they certainly weren’t soundproof either.
She had a massive marketing campaign launch coming up, not to mention the fact that her terrifyingly hyped-up new Team Leader was arriving in less than six hours. She needed her sleep if she wanted to survive tomorrow.
Harin angrily yanked a faded, oversized teddy-bear pyjama set over her bare skin; she didn’t even bother grabbing her slippers or brushing her tousled hair before marching out of her apartment. The cold hallway tile bit against her bare feet as she stomped straight up to the unit beside hers.
She knocked firmly against the wooden door.
Nothing changed. In fact, another theatrical, drawn-out moan echoed inside the apartment.
The utter lack of consideration snapped something inside her sleep-deprived brain. Forgetting all sense of subtlety, Harin balled her hand into a fist and began furiously banging against the door.
“Hey! Keep it down in there!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the empty, midnight corridor.
She knew she probably looked like a lunatic—standing in the middle of the hallway at two in the morning, pounding on a neighbour’s door like a debt collector.
But she was too exhausted and far too angry to care. She just wanted the shameless circus next door to shut up so she could go back to sleep.
The lock clicked, and the door swung wide open.
Harin opened her mouth to launch into a full-blown tirade, but the words completely withered in her throat.
Because...
Standing in the dimly lit doorway was a mountain of a man.
Towering at a ridiculous 6′4", he blocked out the hallway light entirely, casting a massive shadow right over her small frame.
Harin had to tilt her head all the way back just to process the sheer scale of him—broad, impossibly wide shoulders, a chiselled chest that looked like carved granite, and a deeply defined six-pack glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
His face was mostly obscured by the dark shadows of the unlit entryway, but Harin was far too furious and exhausted to care about that.
Harin realized she had made two mistakes.
One, he was completely, shamelessly naked.
And two, he was fully erect.
Actually no, she made three mistakes.
Three, she was staring at it.
Standing at attention, thick and pulsating, was a cock that defied all laws of human anatomy.
It was absurdly long, monstrously girthy—literally the size of a French baguette—glimmering with slick moisture. The reddened, swollen crown twitched slightly under her fixed stare.
How... how on earth does a human body even fit something like that? Harin’s brain short-circuited. Why is it so monstrously big?!
She blinked once, then twice as she realized she was blatantly and shamelessly staring straight at a stranger’s bare, rock-hard dick.
Heat flooded her cheeks, but her anger quickly roared back to life, burying her embarrassment under a wave of sheer irritation.
She snapped her chin back up, refusing to apologize. Why should she? He was the one walking around fully nude in front of an open door!
“Do you have no common decency?!” Harin scolded, her voice sharp as she forced her eyes to lock onto his jawline, desperately fighting the pull to look down again. “It’s two in the morning! Some of us actually have real jobs and need to sleep, you know?!”
His silence only fuelled the fire in her chest.
She was angry, embarrassed, and thoroughly rattled by the presence of this man in front of her. She wanted to hurt him back. She wanted to strike a nerve and shatter whatever smug composure he was holding onto.
Without thinking, the words tumbled recklessly past her lips.
“And what the hell is that monster between your legs anyway?!” she spat as she pointed her index finger at his dick. “How is it even possible for a person to look like that?! What, did you pump yourself full of steroids or something?!”
The man chuckled as if her genuine fury was nothing more than an entertaining late-night show.
He took a step forward, crowding her space until she was completely engulfed in his shadow.
“If you hate it so much...” He leaned down slightly as he whispered into her ear, his voice a deep, husky rasp that reverberated straight down her spine. “...then why were your eyes practically eating it up just now, hm?”
Harin froze, her ears turning bright red.
His voice struck a strange, reverberating cord deep within her memory. It felt intimately familiar—like a melody she had listened to a thousand times in the dark.
He sounded like...
A vague, fleeting thought crossed her mind, but she shoved it aside.
She was too sleep-deprived for mind games.
His smug counter-question only lit a roaring bonfire under her temper.
“I wouldn’t have stared at it if it weren’t so ridiculously grotesque!” Harin snapped back, her chest heaving as she took a defensive step backward into the hallway. “Normal human beings don’t look like that! You definitely used steroids!”
Without waiting for his response, she spun on her heel, marched straight back into her apartment, and slammed her door shut as she threw the deadbolt into place.
Harin kicked off her pyjamas, threw herself back into bed, and pulled the covers over her head. Within five minutes, sheer exhaustion won the battle, and she fell fast asleep.
