The prosecutor's heels clicked once on the marble floor, then stopped.
Choi Min-seo stood just inside the doorway—suit jacket half-unbuttoned, blouse clinging to sweat-damp skin, skirt riding high from the way her thighs had been trembling since she crossed the threshold.
Her bun had loosened; dark strands fell across her flushed cheeks.
Her breathing was shallow, visible in the rise and fall of her chest.
The warrants in her hand—thick, official, stamped—hung limp at her side like they no longer mattered.
Ji-eun didn't move from the couch.
She stayed exactly where she was—legs wide, knees bent, pussy still gaping and leaking from the double load Dad and Min-jae had left inside her minutes earlier.
Thick white rivulets ran down her ass crack, pooling beneath her on the leather.
Her large breasts rose and fell slowly, nipples dark and swollen, cum streaks drying across them in glossy patterns.
Dad stood behind Ji-eun—naked, cock heavy and slick, one hand resting possessively on her shoulder.
Min-jae knelt between Ji-eun's thighs—tongue still tracing lazy circles around her clit, cleaning the overflow.
Yumi sat beside Ji-eun's head—small hand stroking Ji-eun's hair, her own pussy visibly dripping onto the couch, red and puffy from the earlier pounding.
Choi's eyes moved over every detail—slow, deliberate, like she was cataloguing evidence she would never use.
Her lips parted.
No words came.
Ji-eun tilted her head, voice low and velvet.
"You dropped the warrants."
Choi looked down at the papers in her hand—then let them fall.
They fluttered to the floor like dead leaves.
Dad stepped forward—cock swaying.
"You're not here to arrest us."
Choi's throat worked.
She shook her head—once, small.
Ji-eun rose—slow, graceful—cum sliding down her thighs in fresh trails.
She walked to Choi until their bodies were inches apart.
Choi didn't step back.
Ji-eun reached out—fingers brushing the open collar of Choi's blouse.
Unbuttoned one more button.
Then another.
Choi's breathing hitched.
Ji-eun's hand slid inside—cupped one breast through the lace bra.
Thumb brushed the nipple.
Choi gasped—soft, involuntary.
"You watched the stream," Ji-eun whispered.
"You touched yourself to it. Didn't you?"
Choi's eyes fluttered shut.
A single nod.
Ji-eun smiled—slow, triumphant.
"Say it."
Choi's voice came out cracked.
"I… touched myself. Every night. To you. To all of you."
Ji-eun leaned in—lips brushing Choi's ear.
"Then take what you came for."
She unbuttoned the rest of Choi's blouse—pushed it off her shoulders.
Bra next—unhooked, falling away.
Choi's breasts spilled free—full, firm, nipples already hard and dark.
Ji-eun lowered her head—took one into her mouth.
Sucked gently at first—then harder, teeth grazing.
Choi moaned—head falling back.
Her hands found Ji-eun's hips—gripped tight.
Dad stepped behind Choi—hands sliding down her sides—pushed her skirt up.
Panties—black lace—already soaked through.
He tore them off—fabric ripping.
His fingers found her pussy—wet, swollen, dripping.
He pushed two inside—slow, deep.
Choi bucked—crying out.
"Fuck…"
Ji-eun released the nipple—kissed down Choi's stomach.
Dropped to her knees.
Spread Choi's legs—tongue flicking out—tasting her.
Choi's knees almost gave out.
Dad held her up—fingers pumping slowly.
"Look at Mommy eat your pussy," he growled in Choi's ear.
"She's going to make you cum while we watch."
Min-jae stood—cock hard again.
Walked to Choi—rubbed the head against her lips.
Choi opened—took him in—sucking eagerly.
Yumi crawled forward—kissed Choi's thigh—then higher—tongue joining Ji-eun's on Choi's clit.
Choi shattered—screaming around Min-jae's cock—pussy clenching around Dad's fingers, squirting across Ji-eun's face.
They didn't stop.
Dad pulled his fingers free—replaced them with his cock—thrust in deep.
Choi cried out—body jolting forward onto Min-jae's cock.
Ji-eun stood—straddled Choi's face.
"Eat Mommy, prosecutor. Taste your new family."
Choi obeyed—tongue diving in—lapping up the cum still inside Ji-eun.
Min-jae thrust into Choi's mouth—deep, slow.
Dad pounded her pussy—hard, relentless.
Yumi moved behind Dad—tongue flicking his balls—then lower—rimming his ass while he fucked Choi.
The room filled with wet sounds—moans, slaps, gasps.
Choi came again—harder—body convulsing.
Dad thrust deep—filled her pussy with another load.
Min-jae pulled out—came across her face—thick ropes painting her cheeks, lips, chin.
Ji-eun ground down—came on Choi's tongue—juices flooding her mouth.
They collapsed—bodies tangled, cum everywhere.
Choi lay in the center—cum leaking from her pussy, face glazed, chest heaving.
She looked up at them—eyes glassy, voice hoarse.
"I'll… bury the case."
Dad smiled—dark.
"You'll do more than that."
He handed her his phone—camera app open.
"Film us. Live. Right now."
Choi took it—hands trembling.
Hit record.
Ji-eun straddled Choi's face again—grinding slow.
Dad entered Ji-eun's ass—double-penetrating her while Choi licked below.
Min-jae took Yumi—pussy first, then ass—switching holes while Choi filmed every thrust.
The stream went live—title simple:
"Kim Family – No More Secrets."
Viewers flooded in—millions within minutes.
Comments exploded—shock, lust, outrage, donations.
Choi filmed—voice shaking.
"This is… real. They're real. And they're beautiful."
Ji-eun looked into the camera—riding Dad and Choi's tongue.
"Come find us," she moaned.
"We're waiting."
The stream cut—Choi dropped the phone—joined again.
They fucked until dawn—bodies exhausted, cum everywhere.
But the helicopter lights returned—different this time.
Not police.
Media.
Big networks—cameras, drones, live trucks on boats.
They'd seen the stream.
They wanted more.
Ji-eun stood at the glass wall—cum dripping, tits heaving.
Looked out at the approaching lights.
Smiled.
"Let them come."
Dad pulled her back—entered her again.
Min-jae took Yumi.
Choi filmed—live again.
The world watched.
And the family gave them everything.
To be continued…
The media boats are docking. Cameras are rolling live. But what happens when the first reporter steps inside—and asks to join the family on air?