Prologue: The Minefield
She may be a legal adult, but she's a brand-new one—and we're a full ttidonggap apart, born under the same zodiac sign exactly twelve years apart. So why… me?
When I was her age, she was barely eight years old.
Sure, maybe she craved a dependable older brother, but most people would at least settle for a three- or four-year gap. This has to be a trap.
Picture a landmine sitting brazenly in plain sight, primed to blow the moment I take a single step. And yet my reason lost.
"I'm, like, soaked."
That one line from Ha-jeong was the killing blow. As if under a spell, I reached out my hand.
"…Haah-gh!"
Instead of a landmine, it was Ha-jeong's moan that detonated.
Yeon Ha-jeong. Twenty years old. Born January 2007—what was the exact date again? Whatever. It's May 2026 now, so even by international age she's nineteen.
She's a bona fide legal adult under the laws of the Republic of Korea, so what exactly is the problem with us about to have sex?
The problem is that I'm thirty-two this year. A girl born in the Year of the Pig, a full twelve years my junior, is splaying her legs in shameless invitation and welcoming my touch—and if I claimed there was nothing wrong with that, I'd be a liar.
Born in '07 means she missed not just the 2002 World Cup but the next one too, if you can believe it.
Of course, if there's a bigger problem than the age gap, it's the fact that I'm a perfectly healthy man with all my limbs intact. Which is to say, my cock is in perfectly working order as well.
In a situation like this, it's only natural for the cock to beat out the brain. A worthless brain is no match for a raging hard-on—it's stiffer, if anything.
I have no idea how any of that constitutes an excuse, but regardless, I reached out. Something warm met my fingers.
The plump mound beneath the indigo dolphin pants Ha-jeong was wearing became a taut guitar string under my hand. The moment I began to play, she shuddered and let out a scorching breath.
"Haaah-♡"
Could there be a lovelier melody in all the world?
What had been warm gradually turned damp. Her panties were already drenched through, and now it seemed the dolphin pants hugging them so snugly were getting soaked too.
I mean, why would anyone wear a flimsy scrap of cheap fabric as pants when it's barely better than going without underwear?
The honeyed slick that came away on my fingers cooled almost instantly. Blame the air conditioner, blasting away all day in this heat.
Ha-jeong had thrown her head back in her excitement, leaving her no chance to peek downward. Seizing the opening, I slipped my hand free of the dolphin pants and brought it slyly up to my nose.
As it cooled, it gave off a faintly sour tang—and my cock surged even harder at the scent. I hadn't known, until this very day, that I had that much more hardness left in me.
So this guy was capable of a second liberation, huh.
"Why'd you stop? Keep touching me…"
Ha-jeong murmured it with a shy little expression. She was telling me to outlast the air conditioner.
It wouldn't be an easy fight, but I resumed my guitar performance, unleashing handiwork worthy of Jimi Hendrix himself.
"Haa… aah…♡"
One thing was certain: at least Ha-jeong's breath was beating the air conditioner without contest. The instant that warm exhalation brushed my ear, a trickle of something like melted ice cream—Cowper's fluid—came dribbling from the tip of my cock.
If I compared my boxer briefs and Ha-jeong's dolphin pants now, it would honestly be too close to call which was more thoroughly soaked.
How on earth did it come to this?
Barely two days ago, the body entangled with mine had belonged to Ha-jeong's mother. Ha-jeong knew it, too. Even a makjang drama script would get flak for writing it this way.
Oh, right—to be precise, I should say stepmother. Cho A-ran. Thirty-seven years old. My sex friend. A woman blessed with breasts of truly boundless magnitude.
Her hobby, whenever the chance arose, was sneaking over to my place behind her husband's back for long, leisurely sessions of sex—and her daughter Ha-jeong knew all about it. What A-ran herself doesn't know is that her own daughter sees the whole affair with perfect clarity.
That's right. A woman who knows nothing. She hasn't the faintest inkling of this situation either—couldn't even predict it, let alone sense it coming. The fact that her daughter is convulsing under the touch of the man who tutors her and warms her mother's bed.
"Keep touching me. There you go…♡ Rub it nice and wide. Like that, keep going…♡ Haaaah!"
Every syllable out of Ha-jeong's mouth lands like a lash against my ears, again and again. Her shamelessness is inherited, drop for drop, from the very stepmother she shares no blood with.
Ah, I can't stop now. At this rate my underwear is going to lose its battle with elastic and give way entirely.
Unlike Ha-jeong's panties, these snug boxer briefs of mine don't have a convenient side-flap design. I hastily withdrew the hand that had been ravishing her, then scrambled to drag my pants and underwear down in one motion.
With my cock—freshly liberated for the second time—staring her in the face, Ha-jeong's eyes went round as saucers.
"Whoa… the veins…"
The veins? Ah, so that's what she meant. What's the big deal about that?
Determined to show her something truly impressive, I clenched and released the muscles at the base, over and over. In time with each beat, my cock flopped like a fish just hauled out of the water.
"Ooooh, something's coming out of it. That's amazing."
Huh? She doesn't know what pre-cum is? Don't tell me…
While I was still reeling from the unexpected shock, Ha-jeong had already shucked her pants and panties down her legs. She spread them into an M-shape, settling into a posture ready to receive a guest at a moment's notice. The movements were utterly practiced.
Right. There was no way she was a virgin. No one starts out this shameless.
Come to think of it, she'd given off a strange, carnal aura from the very first day we met. For all I know, she's had far more spectacular sexual experiences than I have at thirty-two.
Could I really give her something so blissful she'd forget all those experiences? Could I pull off movements spectacular enough to measure up…?
Unbelievable. I'd already reduced myself to the status of a mere customer. What choice did I have when she was hawking her wares this shamelessly right in front of me?
Was I truly going to devour A-ran's daughter? Was my sex life finally crossing over from mere adultery into the full-blown territory of incest?
How did I end up floundering like a piglet in heat, mired in the steaming swamp of mother and daughter both—the mother the parent who hired me to tutor, the daughter the student receiving the lessons?
I wailed inwardly. My cock wailed louder.
[WEEEOOO— WEEEOOO—]
Was I finally hearing things? Had my brain hit its limit?
[WEEEOO— WEEEEEOOO—]
Faint, but that was unmistakably a siren. Whether it came from a fire truck or a police car, I couldn't begin to tell.
If it's a police car, is it coming for me? Pfft, as if.
It's an auditory hallucination. Some corner of my flimsy reason was trying to flash a red alert, and apparently this was the form the warning chose to take.
Right. Pull myself together. Somehow, I have to break out of this situation.
Sun Tzu preached the wisdom of knowing your enemy and knowing yourself. But how could I possibly know the intimate inner workings of Ha-jeong's particular brand of depravity?
First she begged me to become her stepmother's sex friend, and now she's asking me to become hers.
Merely peering into that abyss looks perilous enough to kill a man. So—knowing the enemy is off the table for now.
Fine. Let's start with knowing myself. Which means it's time to look back on my long, disaster-strewn past.