Spoiling the Old Virgin Team Leader on Her Special Day
Yeongung grabbed my wrist and dragged me out for a date. We strolled along a famous path where couples love to walk, window-shopping. A fancy dinner at an expensive, mood-lit restaurant. Since it was my birthday, he offered to buy me a stunning outfit from a luxury boutique—but I politely declined the overwhelming gesture. It was the kind of date you'd see on the news during Christmas, something I'd never experienced because I'd never dated a man. In truth, it wasn't special at all; it was cliché as hell.
These were the sorts of things that seemed utterly mundane until you fell for someone—things you'd doubt could ever be fun. "Still want to hit one more spot? That cool with you?"
"I-it's already 10 o'clock..."
"I booked a hotel, but heading straight in like it's any old night feels kinda lame, right?" He grinned slyly, then added, "Or do you wanna rush off to the hotel just the two of us?"
"......♥"
Maybe because we'd gotten closer, he tossed out flirty, borderline sexual harassment jokes. His arm around my shoulders slid down to my waist, wrapped in my office skirt suit, and I couldn't deny it—I just shot him a pouty glare. God... why does he have to be so damn handsome...♥
This cookie-cutter dating routine didn't bother me one bit. Being leashed and led around by a hot younger guy like this? It thrilled me every time, making my heart race in the best way. Romance looks boring from the outside, but from the inside? Totally different. Even cliché stuff changes when it's with the right person. Sticking close to someone you like (well...), monopolizing their affection—it was way better than I'd ever imagined.
"...So tonight it's a bar, huh."
And the finale? The swanky bar in the hotel. Not some dive reeking of cheap soju like last time—this was a birthday treat, with killer views, smooth jazz, and an intoxicating vibe. The cover charge alone (*Cover Charge: the bar's base price including service and entry fee*) was no joke. Even for a birthday, scarfing down freebies felt awkward, but Yeongung just shrugged it off like it was nothing.
"Whew, a light whiskey to start, then on the rocks after?"
"I'm no expert on booze, so I'll follow your lead, Yeongung."
"Haha, I only come here occasionally for the atmosphere myself."
We sipped premium liquor slowly, savoring it. The drinks were really just an excuse—this was basically an upscale café where we chuckled softly and chatted.
"Mmm, Yeongung-ssi..."
I'm no heavy drinker, so my tongue loosened fast. I chewed on the brutally salty olive garnish from my martini, gnawing away.
High on the best mood of my life and the booze, I sneaked a glance at his still-gorgeous side profile and mustered the courage to ask something. "Yeongung-ssi, you know you're a total weirdo, right?"
"Mm, yeah, I hear that a lot."
The cocktail was strong; he swallowed it leisurely, Adam's apple bobbing. He chased it with sips from a specific brand of cola—quirky choice—then flashed a grin. "Got any burning questions left for a weirdo like me?"
"Well... honestly, I don't care anymore what you do for a living."
That super suspicious first meeting, with another woman there. But now? No urge to dig into his secrets. At first, I'd suspected a scam. But this guy—with his killer looks and bottomless cash—could live it up with any woman he wanted. Why bother hiding anything from a mere office drone like me? Even if I'm a competent team leader at a big corp, I'm still just a cog. He'd never once asked me for money; hell, he got patriarchal mad if I tried spending. Any doubts like that were long gone.
But this? This I had to know. "Why... me, of all people...?"
"Pardon?"
My slurred words hit the air, and heat flushed my face. My defenses were so down, I sounded like some airheaded girl fishing for love confessions from her crush. Embarrassing. Luckily, he didn't catch the intent right away, so I cleared my throat—ahem!—and rephrased. "I mean... honestly, a guy like you could date any woman you wanted...?"
"......"
"But I don't get it. Why be so nice to a pain-in-the-ass like me...?"
Yeongung drained his glass. The perfectly round on-the-rocks ice clinked as he set it down. "Didn't I mention it before? This is when a woman is at her absolute most beautiful."
"......"
Same smooth answer as always. Guess he really meant it. He spouted weird crap about thirties being peak, MILFs being the best—but damn if he wasn't sincere about loving women this age. I swirled my cocktail glass, still baffled by the fetish. "Dunno... most people think the opposite..."
"Sigh... looks like I need to drive the point home for you, Yuarum."
He reached for my glass. Plucked the olive floating loose on its toothpick, popped it in his mouth with zero shame, and replied. "Obviously, not just any woman."
"......"
"Age alone doesn't cut it. It's the mature women who click with me. And the older they get, the more it changes them overall."
"...Yeah, sure. Wrinkles pop up here and there, sagging worries kick in..."
He chuckled. I'd spilled my insecurities with a bitter whine, but Yeongung just laughed, leaning closer with a delighted look. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Nah, that's exactly it."
"...Huh?"
"That's what changes in your thirties."
He stared right into my face, inches away. "Guys don't give a shit, but women? Once that number flips to 3, they start overanalyzing everything. Fretting over every little change, complex after complex, paranoid someone'll notice, dodging age talk like the plague."
"......"
"Nothing's really changed that much, but it's so damn cute I can't stand it. That's the appeal. For me."
What could I say? Unconventional taste. Nothing fit but "weird." A hobby so bizarre, even hearing the reasoning didn't make it click. Then Yeongung leaned in closer, hot breath tickling, shoulder pressed tight to mine. His hand slipped under the bar counter, out of the bartender's sight, as he whispered.
Above all, this age is when a woman's innate genetics finally shine through.
Squeeze, squeeze♥ "Ngh, ah...!"
In your twenties, everything's pretty no matter what. But thirties? The fluff fades, leaving only the real you.
"Y-Yeongung...♥"
"Yeah? Something wrong?"
He played innocent. All while groping my drunk thigh, bold as hell. Straight-up invading my skirt in public. We'd only met a few times, and here he was treating me like his woman. Fingering the inner thigh, no less!
Bars are dim by default. As long as you're not screaming, no one cares what you do—perfect for sneaky touches.
Stroke, stroke♥ Mmm, something's rising up...♥
That's why I didn't hate it. Hiding from prying eyes just stoked my pent-up frustrations higher. Ngh, I want my jotjip fingered...♥ Like before, pounded senseless by that huge cock...♥
Work's triumphant high had my dopamine pumping already. Press, press♥ I wished he'd skip the teasing and just ravage me. Booze sated, now for something even better. Turning into a total bitch in heat...♥
They say late nights are dangerous, and here I was, completely at this man's mercy. Lately, getting called a "MILF jotjip" in the heat of sex sounded just fine—I wanted it now♥
"Anyway, that's what I mean—loving women who've ripened even more specially."
"Ah...!"
Just as I was really feeling it, he pulled away. His hand had been inches from my core, but he turned his head at the last second. Sly fox. He'd clocked how much I was enjoying the touch and yanked it back to tease me into a frenzy.
"Yuarum, you look extra hard to resist tonight."
"......"
He knew damn well and savored my reactions. Infuriating how he could read women like a book. But clink!
"Whew, time to quit messing around."
"Ah...!"
He stood leisurely, offering his palm like a gentleman. I glared a bit, then took it. What a control freak, I thought, rising—then trip!
"Ah!"
To anyone watching, it looked like I'd stumbled forward. But he'd tugged, pulling me straight into his chest. My light blouse smeared with makeup and loose powder—totally intentional. Looming over me, Yeongung whispered in my ear, lewd and low.
Ready for me to pound that MILF jotjip, Yuarum?
Gulp...♥ Birthday service—gonna slam it deep and sticky tonight.
♥
The rough talk from our last fuck, flooding back. Hearing his casual banmal commands in public? Not offensive—arousing. My womb clenched just listening. My desperate crotch couldn't hold back; I clung to him, letting him lead.
Falling hard...♥
Turning into his jotjip, plain and simple. Obeying this younger man's every order like a proper MILF jotjip. Squeeze♥ Grip my ass harder...♥ Treat me like a total jotjip...!
And I didn't hate it. Getting swept up by an alpha male's potent pheromones? Pure female instinct.