It had become their ritual.

Every Friday night the Mins and Jeons played the same dangerous game: swapping spouses, fucking until sunrise, and returning to their homes in the morning like nothing had happened. No guilt, no awkwardness—just heat, pleasure, and an unspoken promise to do it again next weekend.

This Friday was no different.

Mimi stood in front of the mirror, slipping into a scandalous black dress that clung to her curves like liquid. It was shorter than usual, barely covering her ass, with a neckline so deep it looked like an open invitation. She smirked at her reflection, adding a touch of red lipstick, knowing exactly how Jungkook loved her looking like a filthy doll.

Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her.

“You’re going to kill him walking in like that,” he teased, eyes hungry but soft.

She turned, blowing him a kiss. “Isn’t that the point? You don’t mind sharing your little slut, do you, baby?”

Yoongi stepped closer, gripping her chin. “I don’t just share you. I choose who gets you. Remember that.”

His tone was darker than usual, but Mimi just giggled, thinking it was part of their playful routine.

—

Across town, Tae was finishing her own transformation. Her dress was blood-red, short enough that the hem threatened to expose her every time she bent. Her breasts strained against the thin straps, nipples hard and visible under the fabric. She twirled in front of Jungkook, who sat on the bed with a knowing smirk.

“You look like sin itself,” he said, tugging her wrist to pull her between his knees. “Yoongi’s not going to last a minute seeing you like this.”

She straddled his lap, whispering against his lips, “That’s okay… you’ll still be the one I come home to, Kookie.”

He kissed her hard, biting her lip, then pulled away, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Good. Because tonight, baby… I’ve got something special planned.”

Tae frowned a little, curious, but he just patted her ass and sent her on her way.

—

Later that night, the couples parted as usual.

Mimi arrived at the Jeon house, heels clicking against the marble floor, hips swaying like she owned the place. She didn’t even knock before heading upstairs toward Jungkook’s room—he always left the door unlocked for her. Her lips curved in anticipation, already imagining his rough hands ripping the dress off her body.

Meanwhile, Tae entered the Min residence, perfume clouding around her like temptation. She slipped her heels off at the door and walked straight toward Yoongi’s bedroom, already wet at the thought of his cock buried deep inside her.

Both women pushed open their lovers’ bedroom doors with teasing smirks on their faces.

But what they saw froze them in place.

On the Jeon side—Mimi stopped short, her red lips parting in shock. Sitting casually on the bed, not Jungkook, but Mr. Jeon, Jungkook’s father, older, broader, his shirt undone, revealing his thick chest. His eyes raked over her from head to toe, hungry and shameless.

“Surprise,” he drawled, voice deep and rough. “Your husband thought you deserved a man… not a boy tonight.”

On the Min side—Tae gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Instead of Yoongi, it was Mr. Min, older, taller, silver hair at his temples, leaning back against the headboard with a slow smirk. A glass of whiskey sat in his hand, his gaze dark and commanding.

“Close the door, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “Yoongi’s little gift to me was… you.”

Both women stood stunned in their slutty dresses, hearts pounding, their bodies betraying them with a sudden rush of heat. Their husbands had planned this—swapping not just with each other anymore, but with their fathers.

And the men on the beds looked like they weren’t going to take no for an answer.