Secret Temptation
At eight in the evening, Manager Yang’s face was flushed and beaming with a satisfied smile. Kim Su-heon felt his mood lift slightly at the familiar atmosphere of the room salon he hadn’t visited in a long time. The sharp, rhythmic click of high heels echoed down the hallway.
“All right, come on in,” the Joseonjok madam called out to the girls. A line of hostesses stood in two neat rows. “Which ones speak Korean?”
“Yes, here, here, and here,” the madam pointed them out one by one.
“Manager, see any you like?”
“Hmm.” Manager Yang folded his arms and stroked his chin as though making a momentous decision. “I’ll take that one over there.”
Following the direction of his finger, both Su-heon and the madam turned their heads. Su-heon’s eyes widened. The hostess Manager Yang had chosen looked exactly like Oh Yoo-ri in her late twenties—the same secretary who used to draw every man’s gaze at the office. She walked over with a smile and sat beside the manager, an almost uncanny resemblance to his wife from years ago: the same toned figure, the same soft waves cascading to her shoulders, the same fair, flawless skin.
“Hey, Assistant Manager Kim.”
Su-heon, still staring, snapped out of it at the call. “Yes?”
“Pick one already. Let’s get started, heh-heh.”
“Ah, right.”
Su-heon signaled the madam with his eyes, and she seated a hostess beside him. With Manager Yang flanked by two women and Su-heon paired with one, the drinking began in earnest and quickly spiraled into a raucous party. The hostesses’ clothes vanished until only panties remained. The woman who resembled his wife had an especially striking body—perhaps even more explosive than Yoo-ri’s in her youth. Su-heon kept glancing at her.
Manager Yang had already pulled her into his arms, licking, sucking, and groping her with obvious delight. “Hey, Assistant Manager Kim.”
“Yes?”
“What’s wrong? Not having fun?”
“No, I just have a bit of a headache today.”
“Really?”
Su-heon stared at the manager, silently hoping he would suggest leaving early. “By the way…”
“Yes?”
Manager Yang turned his head while squeezing his partner’s breasts. “Doesn’t this bitch look like someone?”
Su-heon felt as though he had been struck in the head. “Pardon?”
“She definitely reminds me of someone, but I can’t place it, heh-heh.”
Manager Yang continued kneading the woman beside him like dough, tilting his head as he struggled to remember. Su-heon felt a strange excitement stir in his chest. Of course Manager Yang knew Yoo-ri—he had been one of the men who used to hover around her. He had even attended their wedding. Yet after all these years, he couldn’t connect the hostess to his subordinate’s wife.
“I’m not sure, sir.”
“Really? Strange. I know there was someone…”
Su-heon downed another shot, oddly aroused by the situation. It felt as though it were his own wife sitting beside Manager Yang, being fondled and served. The hostess skillfully dodged the manager’s persistent lips.
“This sly little fox, heh-heh.”
Manager Yang seemed to enjoy the chase. Time slipped by until dawn approached.
“Manager, we should probably head out now.”
“Yeah, maybe. Heh-heh. Let’s go, you little thing. I’m going to fuck you good tonight, heh-heh.”
Su-heon called the madam over and paid with the company card. Ignoring her invitation to return soon, he stepped outside and saw Manager Yang already embracing the hostess at the entrance, waiting for a taxi.
“Heh-heh, come here, you little slut. Where do you think you’re running off to, huh?”
Su-heon felt a pang of pity. The manager was one of those men living a hard life as a “wild goose” husband, separated from his family. He could almost understand. As Su-heon drew closer, the manager’s back was turned, but his muttering sent a shock through him.
“You fucking bitch, stay still, Yoo-ri. Where do you get off acting coy, huh? Heh-heh. Tonight I’m finally going to ram my cock into that pussy of yours, heh-heh.”
Su-heon froze behind him. “Oh, you’re here?” Manager Yang turned and grinned. “Hey, Assistant Manager Kim, I remembered! I remembered! You know her too, right? That secretary from the office, Oh Yoo-ri.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes.”
“That’s her, that’s the one. Face and body exactly the same, heh-heh.”
Manager Yang seemed to have forgotten that Yoo-ri had married Su-heon. Su-heon forced a smile. “Ah, that fucking bitch. I worked so hard trying to get a taste of her. She was a feisty one, all right. Whenever she walked around in that company uniform, swinging that ass… Anyway, just thinking about it makes my dead cock come back to life, heh-heh. Don’t you agree, Assistant Manager Kim? Hahaha!”
“Then you should hurry and enjoy yourself, sir.”
“Yeah, I will. I’m heading out first. Come on, Yoo-ri, you little slut. I’m going to wreck that pussy tonight, hahaha.”
As the taxi carrying the manager disappeared, Su-heon’s head grew heavy with worry for his wife. So many men were after his beautiful wife. He returned to the apartment and stepped into the dark, empty home. Just yesterday, Ko Yoo-mi had greeted him warmly; now only silence remained. Sitting by the window and staring out, Su-heon resolved that for Yoo-ri’s sake, he needed to return to Korea as soon as possible.
It had been a week. Do-hwan hadn’t shown up at the club. Yoo-ri found herself growing more curious about him. When she asked other trainers, none of them knew anything. She entered the club today with a somewhat listless expression.
“Ah, Ms. Yoo-ri, you’re here.”
Yoo-ri lifted her head at the deep voice and found herself smiling brightly without realizing it. “Oh, Mr. Do-hwan.”
She felt almost childishly excited by his warm greeting. “Here, like this. Yes, you’re doing great.”
Following Do-hwan’s instructions, Yoo-ri worked up a sweat. The more her body glistened, the more his lower half swelled visibly.
“All right, good work.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Ms. Yoo-ri, if you have time, how about a drink? My treat.”
“Sure, why not.”
Yoo-ri readily followed him out. The two chatted pleasantly, looking almost like lovers. “Ah, I see. So that’s what happened.”
“Yeah, but it’s all sorted out now, hahaha.”
“Oh my, look at the time.”
Yoo-ri stood up after checking her watch. “Heading to pick up your daughter?”
“Yes. See you tomorrow.”
“Would you like a ride?”
“No, it’s fine. I can go home and take my own car.”
“Come on, ride with me. I want to see your daughter too. She must be pretty if she takes after you.”
“Hohoho, you’re too much, Mr. Do-hwan. Well… all right.”
Yoo-ri felt pleased by his words. When she returned home with her daughter, Do-hwan was already sitting on the sofa. Smiling at him as she came out of her daughter’s room, Yoo-ri said, “Hoho, she must have been tired from the field trip today. She fell asleep right after her bath, hoho.”
“Hana’s already asleep? What time is it?”
Do-hwan checked the clock—six in the evening, an awkward hour that was neither afternoon nor night. “If she sleeps now she’ll wake up later. Should I wake her?”
Yoo-ri sat beside him, peeling an apple, and murmured to herself. Do-hwan watched her intently. Her delicate hands moved gracefully with the apple. Between those arms, her breasts—far larger than the fruit she held—pressed together heavily.
‘Ah, fuck. I want to eat those instead of the apple.’
After staring for a long moment, Do-hwan quickly looked away when their eyes met. Yoo-ri found his reaction cute. “Here, eat.”
“Thank you.”
They ate the apple in silence, the awkward atmosphere filling the living room. Even Do-hwan, usually so eloquent, kept his mouth shut. He seemed tense. Finally he spoke. “It’s really good.”
“Right? My parents sent it. Want some to take home?”
“No, a guy living alone would just let it rot in a corner, hahaha.”
“Hoho, you’re lazier than you look, Mr. Do-hwan.”
“Well, that’s how most men are. Whenever we feel like eating, we just come here, hahaha.”
“Yes, do that. Come whenever you want. I’ll give you as much as you like, hoho.”
Feeling his lower half grow heavy, Do-hwan smiled faintly. ‘Heh-heh, you little bitch. You’ll give me whatever I want whenever I want? Heh-heh. Then give it to me today.’
Yoo-ri, whether she understood his meaning or not, simply smiled and continued eating the apple. “Oh, right, Ms. Yoo-ri, look at this.”
At Do-hwan’s words, she turned her gaze. In his hand was a small, pretty bottle. “This is an oil made from some kind of fruit from the Mediterranean. Anyway, it’s made from that fruit.”
“Oil?”
“Not the kind you eat—massage oil.”
“Ah, massage oil.”
“Yeah. It’s great for relieving fatigue and supposedly prevents skin aging in women.”
“Really?”
Yoo-ri quickly took the bottle and examined it from every angle. Women were always weak to this kind of pitch. Do-hwan smirked as he watched her expected reaction, his eyes roaming over her body once more.