by Koh Hee Ja


The blade against her palm winks brightly as she cradles the knife like a baby.

“Come here.”

I groan into her sweaty hair and grind my hips, excited by the danger caught between us.

She nicks my stomach only once during the act, and a scarlet dribble slides down our abdomens and adds to the mess we are making below.

Flesh yields deeply, wetly; the exquisite heat enveloping us.

When we step apart, the body slumps, skull rebounding off the cracked linoleum, and a pretty arc of scarlet spatters over her pale toes.

This wasn’t the three-way he was expecting.

Koh Hee Ja

Koh Hee Ja is a new writer taking a happy stab at whatever she fancies.


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