The Sounds That Filled the Room
In that moment when shock had still left me half out of my mind, before reason had fully returned—
The iron front door of container Room 19 was pounded again, even harder than before.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
"Jinwoo! You in there?"
The second that loud voice—my name—hit my ears, every hair on my body stood straight up. Reality yanked me back hard.
I finally understood: when a person panics hard enough, they freeze like a dead battery. If this went sideways, I would be tomorrow's front-page news.
Yoon Jinwoo, young entrepreneur at Opo Startup Support Center. Tax-funded startup support, caught red-handed with a pornographic woman on-site. Is this the moral hazard of today's youth?
What can I even do right now? What am I supposed to do?
I looked at the brain-meltingly seductive slender woman standing right beside me, her face still full of complicated thoughts. If she had at least been wearing a proper bra under that mesh knit sweater… or if there hadn't been a vibrator strapped under those denim hot pants… then maybe, even if Myeonghun hyung caught her, I could have bluffed and called her a friend.
But right now a half-naked beauty in her early twenties and I were both undressed, alone together inside Room 19. To a hyung who knew me better than family, there was no quick, believable story I could invent in the few seconds I had.
Open the door first. If I don't, that curious bastard will just peek through the side window.
I forced myself to sound normal—louder than usual—and yelled toward the door.
"Hyuuung! Just a secccond~!!"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. But why take so long to answer when you're right inside~"
Outside, the flint of a lighter clicked.
Click—
"I'll just smoke while I wait~"
One minute at most. I had to fix this before suspicion set in.
I yanked my black cotton T-shirt over her crescent-moon breasts that were spilling out of the mesh sweater, wrapping her like a package. In my haste the shirt went on backward, but it didn't matter. Then I grabbed both her upper arms, lifted her the way you move a box, and hauled her behind the shelving unit.
Even with my hands locked around her arms, she looked up at me from under my gaze with wet, glistening eyes.
"Stay… quiet here for a second."
Even in this emergency she gave me a clear, bright little smile.
I sucked in a deep breath and planted myself squarely in front of the door.
Ah… wait. I'm still bare-chested, wearing nothing but the leather harness.
If it were only Myeonghun hyung and me, no problem—we could shoot the breeze for hours while I fixed harnesses. But because of the naked woman behind me, he absolutely could not set foot inside.
I spun and dashed back behind the shelves. She was examining the leather goods I'd made. I stripped the black T-shirt off her again. She looked up at me with wet eyes and a fluttering expression.
"Sorry. Just borrowing this for a second."
It was my own shirt. Why had I said "borrowing" like it was hers? That was how scrambled my head was.
Then, like some ridiculous cartoon animal, I waddled comically toward the door in an awkward half-run. The front was a full-size container iron door that only opened outward. The problem was its size—roughly 2.6 meters high and 1.2 meters wide. I would have to open it the tiniest crack possible so he couldn't see inside.
I set my hands on the iron and blew out a long breath, ready to push.
Ah! The harnesses! At least grab the finished ones—
I spun again, sliding across the floor like a cartoon character, and snatched all four completed harnesses off the workbench in one fist.
Outside, Myeonghun hyung kept smoking and nagging, clueless about my panic.
"Jinwoo. How much longer? I'm busy."
"Yeah, hyung, opening the door now."
I cracked the door open—just a sliver.
"Why so slow~ Are the stage harnesses all—"
As he tried to step into Room 19 the way he always did, my left foot shot forward and planted itself squarely between his legs, blocking him. His eyes went round.
Before he could think, I fired words at him so fast it would knock the soul out of him.
"Hyung! Hyung! Four out of the five are done for now."
I kept the door from opening wider with my right hand and shoved the bundle of harnesses into his arms with the left, then gave his body a little twist and a push outward.
He leaned his head back and complained in an irritated voice under the force of my shove.
"Yaaah~ We've got a music-show stage tomorrow—"
He turned and tried to wedge himself into the gap again. I immediately shoved his back and spun him around once more.
"I know, I know! I'm sorry! Really sorry! I'll finish the work fast—"
"You're working right now? When'll it be done?"
"Soon. Two or three hours."
Actually five minutes would do it. But if I say that he'll insist on waiting inside.
He stood in the doorway, squinting at me with a sulky, unconvinced look.
"Hyung, I'm sorry. But have I ever broken a promise to you?"
"…"
"I'll bring the last one myself on my way home. I swear on my little sibling's name. Just one more left to finish—"
"—I took longer trying to make the volume pop more, like you asked."
I rattled the words out in a frantic stream while physically blocking him from the door. Yet every sense I had was locked on the woman behind the shelves. She absolutely could not be discovered.
Contrary to my expectation, she wasn't even holding her breath. Instead she kept rustling and touching things on the shelf side, making little noises that reached my ears. Myeonghun hyung might hear them any second.
"Hyung, you got it? Okay?"
I finished talking for both of us and yanked the door shut with my right hand.
It caught with a hard thud.
He had braced it with his left hand and left foot.
His face twisted into an uncharacteristically sharp scowl.
"Jinwoo. Wait…"
"…Hyung, whaat~"
Half a whimper slipped out of me from pure shock.
"A grown man sniffling like that… after you were the one who finished late."
"I didn't have enough work time! That's why I'm busy!"
The longer this door stays open, the more my heart hammers like a patient cut open on an operating table.
He flicked his eyes downward. On the pack of cigarettes in his right hand lay a thick wad of bills—six fifty-thousand-won notes and three ten-thousand-won notes.
"Sorry. Meant to put it in an envelope…"
"…."
"Hey, kid. Congrats on the first real sale. Seriously."
Before I could even feel grateful for the warm congratulations, he released the door and pushed it toward me.
"Hyung, okay. Thanks—"
"—I've still got one more to do, so I'm busy right now. You go first."
But he grabbed the door with me again.
"Ah~ again… what is it this time~"
This time his tone was lower, colder, almost scary.
"Jinwoo… little kids can't fool an old man's eyes that easily—"
"—Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
The pressure choked the breath out of me. It was the same trembling feeling as when Mom caught every childhood lie.
Did he see her through the crack behind the shelves?
A chill ran through my body and my words stammered.
"Wh… what…"
Even my throat locked. Every possible nightmare flooded my skull.
"Three…"
Three? As in the three of us having fun together?
"Don't even think about skipping the tax invoice just because you begrudge a measly thirty thousand won. Make sure you file the VAT…"
Every muscle in my body went limp; my face and breathing both collapsed in relief.
"Even if the first sale is small, if you don't report the VAT the National Tax Service later—"
"Ah! Enough!"
I looked him straight in the face while he fretted and slammed the door shut. This time it closed cleanly, no obstruction.
His voice floated through the iron again.
"Jinwoo. I know everything. You don't even have to say it—"
"—Don't get greedy over a mere thirty thousand. Don't spend it. And you know you have to write the invoice yourself, right?"
I pressed my arms against the door, rested my forehead on them, and yelled back.
"Hyung, let's talk later. Busy. I need to work fast~"
"Aigoo~ touchy little bastard. Fine. I'm taking the four for now. Bring the last one by midnight for sure."
"Yeah!"
I stayed there with my forehead against the door, listening. The crunch of his footsteps on the gray gravel path outside the container startup unit gradually faded.
A little guilt pricked me for brushing him off so coldly. Before the sound completely vanished I cracked the door and stuck my upper body out, waving hard at the distant figure and shouting.
"Hyung! Sorry! I'll finish quick! I'll definitely stop by on the way home!"
I didn't know if he heard every word, but he turned, waved both hands around, laughed, and flashed me the finger. Then I shut the door firmly again.
The back of the black cotton T-shirt I had just put on was soaked through with sweat. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it outside my chest.
After the storm of tension I hung my head for a moment, waiting for my mind to come back. Even though a strange man had nearly burst into the room only minutes ago, the woman beside me looked completely unbothered, simply watching me.
Then, eyes locked on mine, she peeled off the mesh knit sweater. The motion of raising her arms lifted her breasts and let them bounce back with perfect elasticity. Completely bare-chested in front of me, she held out a long rope toward my solar plexus. She offered it so carefully, like tribute, that I took it without thinking.
"Please tie me up over there with this."
Huh?
When my face showed pure confusion she pressed her small index finger against my lips so I couldn't refuse her rapid request. I turned my body toward her on my left. The rare pure-looking slender beauty met my gaze head-on with a flushed face and slowly parted her moist lips.
"I… I really had to gather my courage to come this far—"
"—so… please do it."
Is this the kind of thing people call courage these days? Well, I guess even being filthy needs courage.
The private one-line review of her "courage" floated absurdly through my head just as her beautiful body turned its back to me, slow and deliberate. She showed me the flawless smooth skin of her back, stood straight, then bent her upper body forward. One hand undid the side knot of her barely-there hot pants. The loosened bottoms caught for a second under her ass before sliding to the floor.
Above: a pink anus. Below: a glistening sex still holding the vibrator. The two places only a lover should ever see lined up vertically right in front of my eyes. Face, figure, breasts, waist, hips—all beautiful. Even her asshole was beautiful. Normally they should be a dark brown, yet hers was a prettier, smaller, delicately wrinkled brown. Directly beneath it the plump outer labia stretched long and vertical. Clear fluid had already run down the half-exposed vibrator cord and, as I watched, a fresh trail of transparent nectar slid slowly down her right thigh.
Her Y-zone and thigh gap formed a perfect shape. The inner curve of her high, rounded ass rose in a neat triangle, so even with those big hips a generous gap stayed open for me to see more than half of her sex.
As if stealing the time I needed to appreciate the beautiful arrangement, she slowly straightened up. Then, without showing me her front, she walked with model-like, lush sway, flaunting the perfect line of her ass, over to the wooden wall. There stood the wooden board I used for work, with clamps hanging on it.
That's for lifting heavy lumber while I work… why is she going there…
She turned back toward me from the wooden wall and stood so that her neat black pubic hair was right in front of my eyes—a small, tidy vertical strip that stopped just above the clitoris. Still standing, she lifted each knee in turn and slipped off her sneakers, setting them neatly side by side on the floor. Then she tossed the denim pants and mesh sweater she still held onto the nearby workbench. Finally she leaned her back against the wooden wall and slowly sank down while watching me. Her round ass and thighs touched the cold workshop floor.
"Ah~ cold…"
She clearly enjoyed the fact that I had followed every single movement with my eyes and never once stopped her. Sitting on the floor she slowly, deliberately spread both legs as wide as they would go, never looking away from me. Bright-pink nipples, neatly trimmed hair, a glistening pussy, and the vibrator thrashing as if it were about to slip free—all of it hit my eyes in violent contrast.
Then the earlier bold stare seemed to have used up her temporary excess of courage; her face flushed deeper and she shyly turned her head a little to the side. On the perfectly proportioned naked body of a woman, only a bracelet, necklace, and earrings remained. From the shelf she had brought a leather blindfold and now settled it across her forehead.
From every angle she was captivating. A perfect score as a work of art. Not mere excitement—something closer to reverence at the unbroken chain of sensual motions. The entire workshop suddenly felt filled with an aphrodisiac perfume scattered by some wicked witch, and I felt myself getting addicted on the spot. Completely bewitched, my brain sticky and dull as if soaked in syrup, I walked toward her without resistance, looked down at the woman on the floor, and slowly knelt in front of the place where she sat.
Neither of us could easily guess what would happen next. She lifted the half-on leather blindfold with her hand and took it off her forehead again.
"…Can I… not wear it?"
Don't… not with that wet voice… and that pleading face… If she asked me to cut out my own heart for her I'd probably do it while still under the spell.
I should refuse. I should kick her out. She might be diseased or mentally unwell… but compared with the courage she had shown stripping naked in front of me, I couldn't quite reach the courage needed to throw her out coldly. I didn't even know her name. No matter how alluring, I shouldn't do this with a woman whose name I didn't know.
Then, suddenly, I remembered the one-night girl from the club. Swept up in the mood, drunk, we'd held hands… then spent eleven straight hours of scorching, nonstop sex, calling each other "baby" in bed like a real couple. Only at noon the next day, when reason returned and we stood on the crosswalk outside the motel, did I finally ask her name for the first time.
So I've already mixed bodies with a woman whose name I didn't know… Does that mean I can just treat this the same way?
The thought flickered past and I checked her face. She was reading the indecision on mine and her eyes were trembling with anxiety. A little snort of laughter escaped me without permission.
When she looks at me with a face that pretty… how am I supposed to be cold? They say if you make a woman cry you get it back tenfold…
So I gathered my own courage, just like her. I decided to answer the unknown slender woman's provocation boldly.
"No… I just want to see your whole excited face clearly…"
I would repay the courage she had shown by doing everything she wanted tonight—except the blindfold. Strange fate or not, it was still the fate that had dropped into my lap today. In that moment I felt exactly like a male mantis pressing its body close even after its head has already been stolen by the female.
Is this the feeling of mating even though you know you'll die?
At last I knelt in front of her and wrapped soft leather around her slender ankle, then bound the rope tightly over it. The same slow careful work on the other ankle, then both wrists. While I bound her I was forced to witness a woman's body at extremely close range. How could women's bodies—blood of the same kind flowing through them—be this pretty in a different color all the way to the tips of their toes? How could they be this thin and silk-soft? Completely different from my rough hands and arms wrapping the rope around her.
"Now… stand up straight…"
Excited by my request, she took the hand I offered and rose with bright-red ears. Worried her body might drop, I carefully wound her left leg first and pulled it toward the clamp.
This much should be fine.
"…How do you want it?"
"…. Since it's the first time… hang me over there so I can't move at all… so it feels like I'm being forced…"
That slow, elegant voice spilled sticky, luscious words that didn't match it at all. The instant I heard them, heat surged for the first time inside my pants. The underwear under my jeans went taut in a heartbeat. Even the belt around my waist suddenly felt too tight.
At first it had been panic. Then questions. Until moments ago it had been the agony of whether to accept or refuse. But the hot fire she had fanned stage by stage was no longer something that would go out easily.
"All right… I'll do it exactly the way you want."
Outside the already-darkened window the chirping of insects filled the Friday evening. She might well have been the true first customer of Room 19—the one I actually needed to satisfy.
Through four fingers wet with her fluids and saliva I frantically searched for her tongue, and in that moment I felt the string of reason snap clean inside my head with a soft tuk.
Gentleness was a luxury I could no longer afford. I yanked my right hand free from the tongue that had been ravaging it in front of her mouth and seized the back of her hair. For the first time I roughly twisted her head to the angle that let me share tongues with her most easily. I brought my mouth down as if I meant to devour her soft lips.
I closed my eyes. Or rather, they simply closed on their own. Every sense seemed to remain only in lips and tongue. All that was left in the room was the wet, filthy sound of a young man and woman sucking each other's fluids.
We exchanged saliva so hungrily that we ran out of breath, then gradually slowed the give-and-take of our tongues. As the mindless kiss neared its end I positioned my face vertically above hers. I pinched her cheeks between two fingers.
Open…
My voice, no longer light, heavy and unkind, made her open her mouth with even her eyes turning red. My unclean saliva slowly dripped into her clean, pretty mouth that still smelled of toothpaste. She did not turn away; she gently caught my fluid on the center of her pink tongue. I pushed my tongue farther out and poured every drop of saliva left in my mouth down onto her. The space that until a moment ago had been filled with both our sounds was now filled again by the sound of her struggling to gulp my spit down her throat.