*Hello to everyone who’s read this far. 😀 Part 3 can be found [here!](https://old.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qwt6gn/home_from_the_nightclub_day_3_mf_inc/)*
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“Poke.”
Min-ho woke to a finger in the ribs and a figure standing in darkness by his bed. Blearily, he checked the clock on his nightstand:2 am.
“What is it?” he asked her. “Is everything OK?”
“Now,” she said simply.
That woke him up in a hurry. “Now? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said.
He rubbed his eyes, then stood up from his bed and took her hands. He looked at her in the darkness, then took her in his arms. He kissed her once, twice, then carefully began to lift her nightshirt off of her, but as before she stopped him, pulling it off herself, letting it drop to the floor. Beneath her nightshirt she wore no panties, nothing, standing before him naked in the dim moonlight. He pulled down his own pyjama pants, and together nude, embraced for yet another kiss. And another. Then they held each other for a minute, her skin soft against his, her breasts warm against her chest, his snail warm and hard against her belly.
She pulled away slightly, looked up at him and asked, “Am I pretty?” As she stood in the moonlight through his window, nude and slim, he assured her that yes, she *was* pretty, from the tip of her head, and he stroked her hair, to the backs of her knees, and he ran his hands down her back to her backside.
She smiled at that. “*Just* to my knees?” she asked.
“Yes, *just* to your knees,” he nodded, grinning. “I didn’t want to say anything before about just how *hideous* your feet are, but since you’re making me…”
She laughed then, and pushed him backwards on to the bed. As he fell back, smiling, he caught her hand and pulled her back with him, so that they collapsed together on the sheets. They lay there together for awhile, holding each other, kissing. He stroked her side, her breasts, running his hand down between her legs to stroke her there, feeling the slick softness of her, running his fingers up and down along her, feeling her tense slightly and relax each time he ran a finger up inside of her, out, circling her clitoris each time.
They lay together like that for awhile, then she sat up and moved so that she was lying on the bed, her head on his pillow, her hair splayed out in a wild corona. Wordlessly, she touched his shoulder, and he lay between her legs, propping his weight on his elbows. He ran his hands along her hair and kissed her once again, then stroked her cheek, her neck, her breasts. Gently, carefully, he guided the tip of his penis up to the entrance, warm and wet.
She began to shiver when she felt him there, and he stopped.
“Is it OK?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” she whispered back. “Yes, it’s OK.” but began to shake harder still, in nervousness or excitement, he couldn’t tell. He guided the tip up and inside of her, and he felt her tense tightly, her whole body drawing up and away for a moment before relaxing. He drew back a bit, then pushed a little further inside, and again she drew back, tensing her muscles as she felt him enter her further before relaxing yet again. Once more, and he was fully within her, soft and warm, *so* soft, and in that moment he had never felt anything as wonderful as how his sister felt around him.
“Is is all right?” he asked her again, and she nodded.
“Yes,” she told him, softly, her breath a breeze in his ear. “It’s just…and I know how this sounds but it’s true…this is the first time I’ve done this. With anyone.”
“It is? Really?” he asked her, starting to move within her, slowly, gently, in and out, feeling her tense and relax with every motion, feeling the smoothness of inside against the roughness of her hair. “is it all right? Does it hurt?”
“No,” she told him. “It’s…it’s nice.” She sighed, then pulled him down to hold him tight. “It’s nice.” She lay there, feeling the sensation of him in her, the feeling of fullness, the way he rubbed against her in spots she never knew could be rubbed in ways she never dreamed she could feel, then in a panic pushed him away. “Wait! Do you have….you know…”
“Have what?”
“*You* know…those *things*?”
*Condoms?* “No,” he said, “I don’t have any. I didn’t expect,” he smiled at her, “to be needing any, anytime soon. But,” he said softly, nipping her earlobe and running himself against her slit, “I’ll be careful. I won’t come inside.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Promise,” he told her, and put himself back inside of her.
She considered while he stroked, then told him, “All right.” She lifted her hips to take him fully within her, and relaxed as she felt the fullness of him. He began to move within her again, in and out, and she felt beautiful to him, again, smooth and warm, and when he heard her breath begin to come a little faster he moved to match her. She wrapped her arms around his back, and kissed his ear, kissed his neck, and when he moved in *just* the right spot she would gasp a little gasp in his ear. As she got closer and closer she began to move her hips in time with him, meeting him fully with each stroke. She had heard that the first time was supposed to hurt, but she felt no pain, only the pleasure on him inside of her. She could feel herself starting to finish; she wanted it never to end.
Dimly, in the back of her mind she was aware of him moving faster still. “Don’t come in me,” she panted in his ear. “Don’t you come inside of me!”
“I won’t,” he reassured her, still moving. At his words she pulled him close, close, closer, raising her hips to take him as far as she could, to have as much of him in her as he could go, and she felt it rising, rising, *rising*….
With a cry, she felt something she had never felt before, a wave of electric ecstasy running down her body, and *still* he was moving, stroke after stroke, and the feeling of him *against* her and *in* her and *along* her was more than she could handle in that instant and for a second, almost overwhelmed she began to push him off before pulling him tight yet again and feeling yet *another* wave come over her, more intense than the first, and she bit his shoulder in lieu of yelling, muffling herself against his body. Glad that they were alone in the house.
She fell back against the bed, and let him continue. One minute, two, and he began to breathe heavy in turn, speeding up in a way that wasn’t *unpleasant* but *was* uncomfortable after what she had just experienced. One more stroke, two, three, and abruptly he pulled out and came onto her belly, her chest, her breasts, hot and wet, much more than she expected. He collapsed down beside her, breath heaving then calming, and he smiled at her. And her at him.
“That was amazing,” he told her. “*You* are amazing.”
“You, too,” she said, smiling, and poked him in the ribs. He laughed, and did the same.
“I think I need to go clean off, now,” she said, getting to her feet, using her nightshirt to wipe herself off. She knelt down on the bed again, and kissed him one more time. “Thanks.”
“You, too,” he said, and smiled at her as she left to shower.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qyakif/home_from_the_nightclub_part_4_mfinc