Drunken Confessions
Why isn't my wife coming back? I rinse my mouth, come to my senses, and catch my reflection in the mirror. Panties only, hair a mess, eyes hollow. Yoo-mi slips quietly out of the bathroom. Should I go out or stay? In this state—drunk, half-naked at Cho Ah-young's place—I'm the worst husband imaginable. I step out slowly.
The three women treat me like I'm invisible and keep talking. I lie back down beside Dae-woo. He glances at me; he must have sobered up too.
“Hey, you two—come sit over here. I know you're awake,” Cho Ah-young says. Like children caught misbehaving, we shuffle to the table and sit. Oh Yoo-ri and Ko Yoo-mi don't even look at us. Cho Ah-young brings honey water, hands it over, and continues.
“So? Yoo-ri, did you do it or not?”
“Have another drink. Hoho.”
“I'm curious. Come on, tell us.”
“More importantly, Ah-young,” my wife changes the subject, “after hearing everything, do you still want to sleep with my husband?”
“Why is the arrow suddenly pointing at me? Hoho.”
“You've been acting that way since earlier, haven't you?”
“Oh my, Yoo-ri, you're good at dodging. Fine, I'll speak first.”
Yoo-mi and my wife are already swaying, thoroughly drunk. Cho Ah-young still looks the most composed.
“If Yoo-ri allows it, I'd like to try once.”
“What do you like about him?”
“Hard to say exactly. Just… the vibe.”
My wife turns and studies me closely. “Strange. He's my husband, yet all three pretty women here are drawn to him. Is that it? Well, he is charming—that's why I married him. Hohoho.”
“So you approve?”
“No. He still needs to suffer until my anger fades.”
Her words hit me with unexpected gratitude. The fact that she still sees me as her husband brings tears to my eyes.
“Suffer? How?” Cho Ah-young tilts her head at me. “Go on, Yoo-ri. Tell us about that man earlier.”
“I don't want to. It's a secret. Hoho.”
“Oh, so this is how you torment him? Too bad, Su-heon—a good chance just flew away.”
“Hohohohoho!” The three women burst into laughter together. At least my wife is still smiling.
More rounds pass; their speech grows slurred.
“Ah-young,” Yoo-mi asks, tongue thick, “you make good money and you're gorgeous—why not marry?”
Feeling hot, my wife yanks her dress zipper down to her waist. Her full breasts spill forward. She props her chin on the table, watching Cho Ah-young, head nodding lower and lower—she's nearing her limit too.
“What’s the point of marriage? It always ends up like this anyway.” Cho Ah-young shrugs. Yoo-mi and my wife nod in agreement.
“Ah-young’s single, Yoo-mi unni’s single—maybe I should just divorce too?”
“Great idea, Yoo-ri. Hoho. I feel lighter already.”
“Really? Su-heon, let’s divorce. No need to keep torturing each other.”
My wife looks at me. I stare at the floor, head clearing after vomiting, the urge to flee growing stronger with every clear word. Dae-woo beside Yoo-mi looks just as desperate.
“If you’re throwing him away, give him to me. Hoho.”
“Too good to throw away.”
“Yoo-ri already has that man, right? A man this fine.” Cho Ah-young flexes her arm; Yoo-mi and my wife roar with laughter.
“Oh right—why did you stop earlier? Almost got away with it, Yoo-ri.”
“Huh?”
“How was it with him?”
My wife fixes her gaze on me. My bowed head burns.
“You really want to hear?”
“Of course. Right, Yoo-mi?”
“Well… I am curious.”
Cho Ah-young claps. “Wonderful. Since everyone wants it…”
“I went to his house with him.” The room falls silent; only my wife’s voice remains.
“He hugged me and kissed me, unzipped this dress, slipped his hand inside, and kneaded my breasts.”
“More details,” Cho Ah-young urges.
“Like this?” Cho Ah-young grabs my face and presses her lips to mine. Startled, I freeze. “Or like this?” Her tongue traces my lips. I glance at my wife; her eyes glitter with jealousy, curiosity, and anger.
“No. Like this.” My wife rises onto her knees, tilts Dae-woo’s head, and drives her tongue deep into his mouth. After a long, wet kiss she pulls back. “Like that—he stirred roughly inside my mouth.”
Cho Ah-young, Yoo-mi, Dae-woo, and I all stare at her sparkling eyes.
“Wait—lights.” Cho Ah-young dims the room to a soft red glow. “Stories like this taste better in this light. Hoho. So?”
My wife’s lips look even sexier under the red light. “Then he opened the zipper and kneaded like this.” She guides Dae-woo’s hand onto her bare breasts. His face twists with embarrassment and excitement. He’s finally touching the neighbor’s wife he’s always wanted. His hand moves on its own now. I picture him doing the same to her at the villa—mercilessly squeezing.
“Then his hand slid lower, lifted my panties, and slipped inside.” She takes Dae-woo’s hand and pushes it between her legs. His fingers disappear; his expression turns rapt. Yoo-mi’s hand finds my thigh. My wife stares at me, eyes moist, while Dae-woo’s fingers work inside her.
“And then?” Cho Ah-young presses.
“His tongue was so rough I felt dizzy, and when his fingers moved there too my legs gave out. He picked me up and carried me straight to his bedroom.” Cho Ah-young’s hand and Yoo-mi’s hand both slide up my thighs.
“He stripped off the dress, bra, and panties one by one, then kneaded my whole body again—roughly.” Their hands meet inside my panties. They exchange a glance, smile awkwardly, then Yoo-mi wraps her fingers around my cock while Cho Ah-young cups my balls. I’m rock-hard. My wife watches them work me, mouth parted, head tilting back. Dae-woo’s hand moves faster between her legs.
“Aing, Yoo-ri, enjoying yourself alone? Hoho.”
My wife straightens and looks at me again. Dae-woo’s tongue and fingers never stop.
“Haa… and then his cock filled my mouth. It was so big I could barely breathe, but he kept kneading and sucking me so roughly that I got excited and sucked him back properly.”
“Like this?” Yoo-mi yanks my panties down and takes my throbbing cock into her mouth. Dae-woo turns at the sound of his wife’s voice. Saliva glistens on my wife’s breasts and around his lips. Their eyes meet—his burning, hers already lost to lust.
“Dae-woo, stand up.”
He rises, still watching Yoo-mi. His fingers, pulled from my wife’s panties, shine with her wetness. To everyone’s surprise, his cock is fully erect. My wife tugs his underwear down and stares.
“Oh my—Dae-woo, you’re impressive too. I thought you couldn’t get it up. Did seeing unni do this to you?”
Dae-woo doesn’t answer. He grabs my wife’s head and thrusts into her mouth. “Kek—kek—kek!” She slaps his thigh, pulls off, and looks up at him—not with anger, but with seduction. Her lips part again and she takes him deep, hands on his thighs, head bobbing. Dae-woo throws his head back, no longer looking at Yoo-mi, and clutches my wife’s hair.