𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 |Taelisa|✓

||05|| Inexplicable Desire

||L I S A||

Waking up in the aftermath of that extraordinary night, the room held the residue of Taehyung's presence, amplifying the lingering ecstasy.

The exchange of numbers was a lifeline, a tether to the captivating enigma that was him.

Electrified by the memories, I practically leaped out of bed, propelled by a fervor that seemed to surge through my veins.

I never allowed other men to touch my body or even kiss me, or even get off my bra in front of men, or even allow them to F-ck me without a condom, even though I had my pills, or even spill their dirty seed inside me.

I just F-ck I know I am strange; that's who I am, and I am not going to change. I always kept myself protected from sexually transmitted diseases, but I felt Taehyung was way different.

I don't know why I allowed him to kiss me, even if I kissed him or even got fully naked in front of him, and even though I didn't ask him to use a condom,

I wanted to feel his hardness in my femininity and his hot sperm inside me. Oh god, yes, he had an amazing length, which I never thought would be amazing.

I am getting dirty for him. I never give any man a blowjob, but now I want to taste Taehyung again; he is so dreamy.

As I walked to the bathroom, the mirror reflected a mix of emotions: desire, anticipation, and a trace of disbelief at the surreal events of the previous night.

A quick morning routine was a mere formality, a prelude to the day that promised to unfold with unpredictable magic.

Dressed in my ordinary pajamas, they belied the extraordinary aura enveloping me. The air was charged with a freshness and a newfound zeal that beckoned me to embrace the day.

In my pajamas, I grabbed my iPhone, walked out of my room, and dragged myself down.

Descending the stairs, each step resonated with the pulse of possibility. The absence of familiar figures heightened the sense of solitude, like a canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of the day's events.

I thought of making something for my sister and me, and now my mood was so fresh and light. I entered the kitchen, a stage for creative expression that awaited my touch.

A symphony of emotions accompanied the sizzling anticipation as I envisioned the culinary masterpiece that would mirror the intoxicating tapestry of the night before.

In the sanctuary of my kitchen, with the morning sun filtering through the windows and the familiar hum of the refrigerator as my soundtrack,

I reached for my iPhone and summoned the enchanting notes of AK's "Love Or Lust" on Spotify. The melody intertwined seamlessly with my culinary choreography, a symphony of flavor and rhythm.

As the beat pulsed through the air, I cracked open the egg, its shell breaking with a crisp sound that echoed in sync with the music.

The vivid yolk spilled into the bowl, a vibrant canvas awaiting my culinary artistry. With each rhythmic stir, the lyrics resonated, mirroring the pulse of my creative energy.

In the kitchen ballet, ingredients harmonize like instruments in a composition. The sizzle of the frying pan joined the melodic chorus, creating a sensory tapestry that transcended the mundane.

Breakfast preparation became a dance, an expression of taste and sound merging in perfect harmony.

As her door creaked open, I turned to witness Jisoo entering, still clad in her night pajamas. "Good morning," I said with a smile.