The Puppy Drunk on Scent
Whether it was the drugs Subin had fed me, my face burned hot.
I still had no idea why she had given me two different ones, or why she had made me take both.
Bound at the ears and cheekbones, lying there, I could feel the heat rising in my face so clearly it almost hurt. Even my eyes felt hot.
Chaewon spread her thighs right in front of my face, opened her sex wide, and squatted down astride my chest.
"Oppa, my pussy… isn't it insanely dirty?"
It was every bit as filthy as she boasted.
The wings of her parted inner lips were a little dark, and the color and shape made it obvious that plenty of things had passed through there. Her sex had a seductive, sensual beauty that didn't match her age. On top of that, the small inverted triangle of pubic hair looked like a certificate proving she was someone who enjoyed sex often and showed her body freely.
Right after, Subin—who had already been on her knees—planted her hands on my chest and pressed her naked body and breasts flush against Chaewon's back.
One slender woman sat on my upper chest; a glamorous one sat just below my solar plexus.
Subin swept Chaewon's hair up and dragged her soft tongue slowly across her ear.
"Aaang—!"
Then, as if she knew exactly what she was doing, Subin's hand slid down Chaewon's back, cupped her breast, and lightly tugged the nipple she pinched between thumb and forefinger outward.
Chaewon lifted her chin and gave a tiny full-body shiver, as if a jolt of electricity had run through her.
Tall Subin looked down at me over Chaewon's shoulder with a triumphant gaze.
"Oppa, I know it's hard, but just wait a little. Once she's nice and sweet and ripe, I'll let you taste her."
She followed it with light kisses to the nape of Chaewon's neck and ear, teasing with nose and lips while skillfully ravaging her breasts from behind.
She drew soft curves with her hands from the valley of the breasts outward, trapped a nipple between her fingers and gave it a gentle twist, tickled with her fingertips, then swept a broad palm across the whole surface.
Unlike the way men touch a woman's body, the familiarity of a woman touching another woman was on a completely different level. The ease of simply doing to someone else exactly what you yourself want to feel was like starting a race already ahead of the starting line—an unfair game from the first step.
Under Subin's expert touches from behind, the outer lips Chaewon held wide open right in front of my eyes slowly grew wet, the way condensation beads on a glass of iced Americano. Even the inner lips, spread so far the urethra was visible, began to swell and glisten under the caresses.
When the already-wet sex grew hotter and thoroughly soaked, a shining liquid finally started to gather just below the entrance of Chaewon's vagina. Neither too thick nor as light as water, a liquid of just the right weight spilled from inside and collected. The fluid that had seeped out gradually pooled lower, and the skin toward her perineum began to shine as well.
It felt like watching the most convenient porn in the world—no hands required.
My lower body hardened enough that I could feel it myself. So much blood had rushed into my penis that the head began nodding forward, back, up, and down of its own accord.
Subin felt it and glanced behind her. Smiling, she sent her left hand back while still fondling Chaewon and stroked the shaft of my cock. A satisfied look crossed her face.
"Whoa…… holy shit… it's thicker than a soda can."
She briefly freed both hands and tore open one of the four small packets she had set on the table. It was a single-use lubricant sachet made overseas. Kissing Chaewon's back lightly, she ripped the packet open behind her, coated both hands, then reached back and stroked my shaft up and down with her left hand in pure satisfaction.
Because of the lubricant's consistency, a wet, sticky sound followed every movement of her hand on my cock. She wasn't even using any special technique, yet the soft hand plus the slick feel made my thighs draw inward without my noticing. She hadn't even sped up yet, but even at that slow pace her skill was obvious.
She took her eyes off my cock and rested her face against the shoulder of Chaewon, whom she had been kissing. Her left hand was still busy ravaging me down below. Then she kissed Chaewon's neck softly while her right hand parted the top of the slender woman's clit and stroked it in a smooth glide.
Blonde Chaewon threw her head back against black-haired Subin's face and spat out a curse.
"Ah… fuck… so fucking hot…"
I was watching a veteran lesbian handle a fully swollen clitoris with my own eyes. It felt exactly like the harsh lessons my ex-girlfriend had once drilled into me. Soft, playful, never touching it directly, riding a rhythm. When the rhythm threatened to grow boring, she changed the tone—pressure from the palm, trapping it between fingers for a little teasing, prying open every fold and bit of skin of the sex as if opening a book.
It was a high-level performance with not a trace of haste.
Mouth bone-dry, Chaewon lifted her solar plexus high and arched her back wide open. Subin played with both toys at once, matching her movements as if syncing them. When she circled and stimulated the clit, she simultaneously rolled my glans with the same skilled speed. When she pressed the clitoris with her palm, she squeezed my cock just as tightly to match.
The excitement I watched on Chaewon's face and the handiwork on my cock moved to the exact same rhythm. I even felt as if Chaewon's sex—still untasted—was reacting to my cock. It was more intense than the feeling of masturbating together on a video call. Distant touches felt as close as the sensation of penetration—a unique experience.
In that moment I perfectly understood the startled feeling of someone who had actually undergone the Rubber Hand Illusion—that neuroscience experiment where you feel a rubber hand as your own and flinch when it is threatened.
Every medicine had been useless.
The STI treatment was finished, yet despite repeated tests the abdominal pain and prostate enlargement symptoms only kept getting worse. Even the hospital couldn't easily explain the cause. Because they couldn't find one, the diagnosis they gave me was "psychogenic." They decided that my emotions were adversely affecting both erection and pain.
I received treatment at a university hospital and poured every effort into reducing the pain. In the end the only remaining options were a "transurethral resection of the prostate" or a full "prostatectomy." Those were surgeries considered for middle-aged men, extreme measures usually reserved for prostate-cancer patients. Beyond surgery, the hospital had nothing left to offer me.
Breaking up with the girlfriend I loved had hurt, but the agony of being unable to properly have sex with anyone I liked afterward was just as bad. Even high-dose erectile-dysfunction drugs made my erection collapse emptily during the act, and the sensation of ejaculation vanished. It wasn't that I couldn't satisfy women—I simply couldn't have sex at all. The moment I got even a little hard, a pain like a needle stabbing my belly lurked, so I couldn't continue. Far from giving anyone climax, the fact that I myself couldn't even keep going was more tormenting.
After every encounter I was the one who needed comforting. The women tried hard to understand me. But as time passed, the conclusion they eventually reached was colder than expected: because I was a healthy man in his twenties, it must mean she simply wasn't attractive enough to me. I couldn't open my chest and show them my heart, and I grew tired of spinning the same miserable excuses every time. Gradually I pushed women away. The memories of love faded. Yet the wound Siyeon had left remained deep in my body and never stopped tormenting me.
Family and friends never truly understood me. The only person who stood by my side was Myeonghun hyung.
"That's how people are. You only realize how precious something is after the thing you took for granted disappears."
Hyung, who was right-handed, set the soju glass he held in his left hand down on the floor with a solid clack. In front of me he was the only one who could act without hiding his hand. After the accident at the factory, the only person with whom he could leave the two missing fingers of his left hand uncovered by a glove and let them breathe was me. Instead of pitying looks or worried words, I simply saw him as he was. What upset me was the situation he was in itself. That upset didn't come from the missing fingers; it came from the world looking at a good man like him only through the prejudice of disability and refusing to acknowledge him. That fact hurt me more.
"Congratulations. Looks like you can join the disability club now too."
He teased me cheerfully. I made a dazed face.
"What… hyung! What if I take some medicine and fix it?"
Myeonghun hyung laughed heartily.
"If you fix it… kid, I'll just dance for joy."
He looked at me with a faint smile and genuine eyes. This hyung had the power to lift people up and set them down again. He never projected his own emotions onto other people's misfortune, and he cleanly, purely empathized with their happiness. He was a positive person who had never grown twisted. Truly a hyung with a lot to learn from.
And for me he brought a small hint of a turnaround.
The hyung who had called me out tilted his glass and opened his mouth.
"Jinwoo, you know the church my noona used to go to, right?"
Like me, hyung was non-religious, but someone in his family attended church—Myeonghun hyung's older sister. It was a megachurch with thousands, tens of thousands of members, and he and I had once worked part-time jobs there. In that building where celebrities came and went and people thronged, hyung had worked for a while.
"There's a huge mess there right now. Everyone's trying to hush it up, but several families are in an uproar like someone kicked a beehive."
"Why?" I asked as if listening to something ordinary.
Myeonghun hyung was not the type to gossip. Just as he didn't want talk of his own fingers circulating in other people's mouths, he was a serious man who never casually brought up other people's flaws.
"Deacon Cheonsu—do you remember him?"
I couldn't quite place him.
"It rings a faint bell… who was he?"
"You know, the short, skinny deacon with glasses."
I dug through my memory. I remembered. The short deacon with glasses whose voice was sharp and clear. The one who used to nag a lot beside us when I was working the part-time job with hyung.
"What about that deacon?"
Hyung swallowed and continued.
"No one expected it, but apparently he had a lot of that kind of thing going on with people who already had families."
Even in a religious organization, wherever people gather, man-woman problems can't be completely avoided. Yet the tone hyung used carried something thicker than a simple scandal.
Myeonghun hyung paused for a moment and swallowed.
"But there's one more reason the adultery issue blew up so big."
"What reason, hyung?"
"You know how church people mostly hang out with other church people."
"Yeah. They use restaurants and hospitals run by other members."
"Right. That deacon also went to a hospital run by a church member."
Before continuing, hyung scanned my face once.
"That deacon was known as someone with severe prostate enlargement who could barely get an erection. The hospital director went around telling everyone, so everybody knew."
My eyes widened.
If the prostate symptoms were severe, he would have suffered the same pain and the same impotent helplessness I did… How could something like that even happen? I couldn't understand.
Seeing my puzzled expression, he went on.
"At the hospital they had pretty much given up on treatment; it was basically close to a disability ruling. Yet amazingly, the women who got involved with that deacon fell for him so hard they were ready to throw their families away."
Conscious of the surroundings, hyung's voice was low, but the words rang louder in my head than the noise of the bar.
I couldn't understand. If it was severe, even maintaining an erection would have been hard—yet the fact that women still clung to him came to me like a clue I must not miss.
Is he just ridiculously good at sex? But if he can't get hard, is there even a way to be good? How the hell…?
"When the cheating wives got caught, the husbands saw the messages the two of them had exchanged and nearly fell over backward. There were so many things the women had written when they were so turned on they couldn't even say them out loud. And these were devout church women, too…"
In that instant a feeling hit me that I must not let this slip by. I looked at hyung.
"Hyung! Can you find out where that deacon lives or get his contact info?"
I asked on pure instinct. Maybe there was a hint. I was desperate enough to grab at any straw.
Hyung read the look in my eyes and nodded.
"I'm not trying to exploit someone else's misfortune, but I think the same as you. I'll look into it."
"I'll find out his address and number somehow."
That was the state I was in—I had no choice but to grab even a straw. The straw I might have brushed past without knowing eventually became my salvation.
I didn't merely escape the pain. Beyond returning to normal, a change incomparable to before arrived. My manhood grew thicker and stronger, and my confidence as a man revived. It was the turnaround of my life.
My body had transformed beyond what it could originally do; my lower half had become stronger and harder. I still hadn't put it inside either of them to confirm, but already the outward appearance of my cock was flaunting a presence that could satisfy their excited expectations. Stronger erectile power than a normal man, thicker girth than a normal man. On top of that, the unknown drugs they had fed me. Layered onto this lewd, sticky situation, every condition was perfectly in place to race toward a shuddering climax.
Both women were already showing satisfaction before anything had even begun.
"Unnie's going first, right?"
Chaewon asked Subin behind her.
"Yeah, Chaewon. Today I'll go first—excuse me. I can't hold back. I must've been starving for cock."
Chaewon, whose eyes had grown dirtier the longer she stayed, gave a little snort of laughter.
"Anyway I'm smaller, so I need to get a lot wetter before I can take it. You go first, unnie."
Then she looked down at my face, lying like a sacrificial offering in front of her pussy, and said,
"Unnie enjoys first, and I'll take over after."
She leaned her body toward me, gently took my neck and both cheeks with her hands so I would lift my head, and said,
"Oppa… open your mouth."
"Ah…"
I still offered no resistance to their commands.
She smiled as if looking at something cute and let a string of saliva drop into my vertically opened mouth. Her long-falling spit entered my mouth. Once… twice…
Even though she never ordered me to swallow, I gulped down her saliva with a pitiful, desperate expression.
Chaewon patted the top of my head and praised me.
"Good boy. You do it well even without being told."
Then she pulled her body from my upper chest closer to my face.
"I filled your belly, so make me even hungrier so I can enjoy myself more deliciously."
She grabbed my hair, forced my head up, and yanked me toward her sex. Her dark pubic hair came into sharp, close focus right in front of my face. Even with her effort of stretching my neck until it hurt, her sex still wasn't pressed flush against my face. It was a position that made it hard for me to lick her.
Looking down at the sight from above, she spoke to me in a sharp, heavy tone.
"My good little puppy… you shouldn't just wait—you should try harder, right?"
And she pushed her pelvis a little closer to my face.
The scent of a woman's heated pussy washed over me in a thick wave. The dizzying fragrance rising from that thoroughly soaked place was gradually dyeing me into an obedient puppy.