The door clicked shut behind Alina, sealing them into a haze of perfume, sweat, and the heavy throb of bass leaking up from the dance floor below. The four of them spilled in—half-undressed already, skirts hiked, blouses unbuttoned, bras peeking, legs bare and hungry. Dim, colored light washed over plush couches and a table already heavy with bottles and ice, the whole room shuddering to the aftershocks of the club.
Min-kyung giggled, shimmying out of her skirt to stand in just a sheer, black thong and a matching lace bra, body slim and supple, skin flushed. Alina barely bothered with pretense—her top was already gone, red lace cupping her tits, the gleam of metal catching the light as she flicked her fingers over her nipple rings. She grinned at Ji-hye, who hovered near the door, cheeks flushed, arms folded protectively over the pale pink of her lingerie, legs pressed tight together.
