Episode 6: The Secret in Dahee's Panties
Episode 6) Secretions in Da-hee's Panties
The money from exchanging NA12CL24's 30 million won worth of coins had just been deposited into my account. Once today's requested amount comes in, my bank balance will be... roughly 47.5 million won after deducting insurance and utility bills.
Of course, it's a huge sum. Enough to make me swell with pride. But I still don't know that bastard's motives or reasons.
Well, in the process, I ended up kissing Assistant Manager Ara and taking all sorts of lewd photos... Ah! I quickly opened my phone's photo album.
I almost screwed up. Of course, Da-hee isn't the type to snoop through my phone, but you never know with people. I couldn't just delete everything outright, so I uploaded them to a private cloud service and wiped the photos from my phone.
Haaah.
This'll make for some precious material later.
...Wait, no. That wasn't what I was thinking earlier—in fact, it was the opposite. I was thinking that this really shouldn't be happening. Obviously. But what am I doing right now? Even if we didn't go as far as sex, didn't I already kiss Assistant Manager Ara?
Honestly, I was practically on the verge of cumming.
While taking photos of Ara, I was fully erect, leaking pre-cum like crazy. It was almost like I had already ejaculated. It was the first time in my life I'd ever produced that much pre-cum. Was I really that turned on? Enough for Ara to smell it and tell me to go wipe myself off.
"Premature, premature,"
Ara teased me. I never thought I was into femdom or anything like that, but there was something oddly thrilling about being toyed with by her mischievous energy. I also remembered how she outright suggested we cheat.
"Guess I really don't have any resistance to women, huh?"
Even though an absolute beauty like Da-hee was waiting for me at home, the animalistic pull toward other women was still there.
"No, don't think like that, you idiot."
Right, I shouldn't try to rationalize these cheap desires to cheat as some kind of instinct. Just like Da-hee asked, one woman is enough for me for the rest of my life. Isn't that admirable in its own way?
"More than anything, it's the only way to make up for the insane things I've done."
All that netorare bullshit—I really hurt Da-hee deeply. She barely managed to overcome it, but if I went and cheated on her now? Oh, there'd be no coming back from that.
Beep-beep-beep.
I was home. Da-hee didn't seem to be back yet. I sent her a text.
I actually lied about not being home yet, planning to hide and surprise her, but I ended up overcomplicating the lie and awkwardly missing the perfect timing to reveal myself.
What do I do now?
Ah, whatever. Since I've already gone this far, might as well commit. I hid my shoes inside the balcony storage and decided to squeeze into the blanket closet in the bedroom. Since the winter blankets were out for laundry, it was completely empty.
Ah.
I immediately regretted it. It was hot. Not that I hadn't expected it—I even brought a towel in with me—but the blanket closet was still sweltering. Just as I was about to leave, beep-beep-beep—Da-hee walked in.
"Phew, it's so hoooooot!!!!!!"
Da-hee whined loudly. Kinda funny. She's never acted like this in front of me before. Guess she still has some hidden quirks I haven't seen. So I decided to keep watching a little longer.
"Where's the damn AC remote?!"
The moment she entered, she turned on the lights and started searching for the remote. Adorable.
"It's too hoooot,"
she muttered to herself, sniffling as she turned on the AC. The blast of cold air made me want to bolt out of there even faster, but I held on a little longer. I wanted to see Da-hee when she was alone. If I'm being completely honest, I can't say there wasn't a hint of netorare curiosity either.
Like, does she secretly call other guys when I'm not around?
Not that I think the current Da-hee would ever do something like that, but still—just a pointless curiosity and maybe 1% anticipation (?) or something.
"Phew."
Da-hee stood in front of the AC for about three minutes, letting the cold air hit her, then immediately stripped and grabbed fresh underwear from the dresser before heading to the bathroom. About 30 seconds later, the sound of running water started. I barely endured the suffocating heat and carefully slipped out of the blanket closet.
Haaah.
I let out the same sigh Da-hee had earlier. But then, right in front of my eyes—
At first, I thought it was vaginal discharge. No, to be completely honest, my first thought was that it was dried cum. But I dismissed it—No way, right?—and figured it must just be discharge. It's the middle of summer, and if her period's coming up, she might be producing more than usual.
I cautiously sniffed it. There was a faint mix of sweat, a slight urine smell, and a barely-there sourness lingering on the panties, but no floral scent. Or rather, I couldn't detect one. I was curious about what this secretion really was, but for now, I satisfied myself by taking a silent photo with my phone. NA12CL24 would probably love this.
Originally, my plan was to ambush Da-hee while she was showering, but after seeing this, I wanted to dig deeper. So after cooling off under the AC and wiping my sweat with a towel, I carefully climbed back into the blanket closet. The door creaked slightly as I closed it, and I thought I'm screwed, but thankfully, the sound of running water must've drowned it out.
At first, I couldn't see much through the narrow gap in the closet door. But if I closed one eye and pressed the other right up against the slit, I could make out a little more. A short while later, Da-hee finished showering, dried her hair, and sighed, "Phew," before standing in front of the AC again. Then, still naked, she flopped onto the bed and started tapping away at her phone.
Probably texting me.
At this point, I was torn. Should I just come out now? Or wait a little longer? I decided to stay put for now.
To my surprise, Da-hee suddenly yelled, "Ugh, so annoying!" Huh, that's unexpected. Maybe because of the heat. Ah!
"Is her period coming soon?"
If her period's approaching, it makes sense that she's been more irritable lately—and the discharge in her panties, too. And if that's the case...
Heh heh.
Da-hee slid one of the towels she'd used to dry herself under her hips. She was getting ready to masturbate. Right before her period, her libido naturally spikes. Ah! That explains why she's been so responsive and proactive lately.
Haaah.
The unease I felt earlier when I saw the stain in her panties completely melted away.
"Ah..."
Da-hee's solo session began. I carefully pulled out my phone, opened the silent camera app, and positioned it through the narrow gap in the closet door to start recording. The quality was slightly worse than the regular camera, but in this situation, it couldn't be helped.
"Mmm..."
How long had I been filming? Just as my arm was starting to ache, a memory suddenly resurfaced.
The time I lost Da-hee to that bastard Kang Tae-yang.
No matter how much I'd been conditioned by netorare porn and doujins, seeing your girlfriend or wife actually sucking another guy's dick and getting railed by him in real life makes your entire body tremble violently.
I know.
That innocent (?) girlfriend of mine—in some other guy's house, in a motel I didn't know about, or even out in the open—completely naked, making excited faces while having sex, doing filthy things with another man... The first time you see that, no matter how much you've trained yourself with netorare media, the shock is incomparable.
It's like the difference between seeing a car crash in a movie and experiencing one yourself.
And once the shock starts to fade, thoughts like "I should've tried that too," or "That's the kind of play I'd be into," or "I should've made her wear that outfit," flood in—ridiculous regrets and frustrations. For me, it was loose socks. Spanking wasn't really my thing, though.
[From Sky Frog: I went through the trouble of sending you those pics, so why don't you cover them in cum and send me some shots?]
So I came on the photos and sent them back...
He sent me the photos from that actual day—the ones where he turned Da-hee into a complete mess.
Hmm.
Even now, when I look at those pictures, I can't help but wonder—was that really from just one guy? Sure, if he had hyperspermia, maybe. But honestly, no matter how I look at it, that doesn't seem like the load of a single man. Da-hee kept her mouth shut about it, but if that's the case, then her body count isn't just Min-ho (1), me (2), and Kang Tae-yang (3)... It could be more. Not that it really matters.
Either way, what I'm doing now with Assistant Manager Ara isn't even a tenth of what that bastard Tae-yang did. And yet, even this much is enough to send ordinary people with slightly kinky tastes into absolute ecstasy.
But what really does the most damage isn't the physical stuff—it's the psychological toll.
\\
It was a rare weekend when I managed to get some proper sleep after a long, frustrating day. But then, in the dead of night, he sent me a video—Da-hee, sweating profusely, moaning as she came.
It wasn't just moaning. It wasn't screaming either.
She just clenched her eyes shut, her whole body trembling, slick with sweat as she reached her climax.
Watching that, I felt such a crushing sense of defeat that I ended up jerking off right then and there.
And if that orgasm was from anal?
Hah.
Getting creampied by him, taking it in the ass, experiencing multiple orgasms with another man—none of that actually pissed me off. Hell, I even found it hot. But what really got to me...
Was seeing her come home afterward and lie to my face with that same blank expression, like sex with me was nothing but a chore.
That stung.
No, more than that—it was pure despair. The crushing realization that I could never make her feel like that.
Why couldn't I?
But then, the flip side was watching those same videos—seeing Da-hee's eyes light up as she begged for more, demanding pleasure with a hunger I'd never seen before.
That stirred something twisted in me.
A fetish born from my own inferiority complex.
I still remember it vividly.
How utterly wrecked she looked—tongue lolling out, coated white with residue, like some filthy whore who'd been fucked within an inch of her life. She looked at least ten years older in that moment.
And ever since then, I've had a thing for that.
The coated tongue.
(Though only when it's Da-hee.)
She reached her second orgasm barely thirty minutes into her solo session. With a wet shlurp, she expelled something—whether it was gas or squirt, who knows—before collapsing onto the bed, spent. A while later, she dragged herself to the shower.
That's when I finally rushed to the front door and swung it open, pretending I'd just gotten home.
"Da-hee, I'm back!"
"Oppa, why are you so late...?"
Her expression was unreadable—somewhere between annoyed and teasing. Still, the way she scrambled to cover herself (not that she needed to) was kind of cute.
"Sorry, got held up."
She smirked. "You weren't out meeting another girl, were you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Let's just eat. What do you feel like?"
"Anything. But Oppa, you're all sweaty. Shower first. You stink."
"Yeah, yeah."
After washing up, Da-hee suggested we eat at a bone soup place nearby, so we headed out for dinner.
"Oppa, what's on your mind?"
"Dunno."
...I really don't. Maybe it's because I spent the whole day taking lewd photos and videos with Ara, whispering all sorts of filthy things in some twisted game of seduction. Or maybe it's because I just secretly filmed Da-hee masturbating earlier.
Either way, seeing her so calm now is... stabilizing.
"You're making a weird face. Did something happen?"
"No, nothing special. Why? Do I look off?"
"You just seem... off. Like something's bothering you."
Maybe.
"Nah, I'm fine. What about you? Anything happen today? At work, or with anyone?"
She hesitated before answering. "Oh! Dad asked about you. Wanted to know what you thought about things. I told him you agreed, so he was really happy. Said he always wanted a son. He's planning to renovate the house a bit come autumn—expand it a little, and even talked to the neighborhood rep about securing an extra parking spot for 150,000 won a month."
Ah.
"Da-hee."
"Yeah?"
I had to choose my words carefully.
"I'm really grateful your dad's thinking about our marriage, and I know his plan is the most realistic option we have right now, right?"
"Yeah."
She answered cheerfully, but I could already hear the unease—and irritation—creeping into her voice.
"But I think we should treat that as a last resort. Maybe we should try finding our own way first? Like, honestly, spending five years as a matrilocal son-in-law right after marriage..."
"Matrilocal son-in-law? What era are you living in? Dad would never make you do anything like that!"
"That's not what I—"
"I get it. You want to be independent, enjoy newlywed life. Fine. But do we even have the money for that?"
We do.
Almost 40 million won already. By this time next year, close to 50.
But I can't exactly tell her where it's coming from.
"Your dad said he'd help if we're serious about marriage. Said he's got about 50 million set aside."
"Fifty?!"
But she still sighed. "Even that's not enough. We can't even get a jeonse [lump-sum rental] with that. Between your place's deposit and mine, we'd need at least 150 million to get into an apartment."
I tried to respond, "Well, that's true, but—"
But she cut me off.
"Oppa, do you even want to marry me? Because if not, just say it. You admit it's the only realistic option, but if you're refusing, then it must mean you don't."
The happiness from earlier was gone—now she was furious.
...Maybe it's just her period.
But if I say that now, it'll only make things worse.
"I'm leaving. I'm not hungry anymore. Pay with my card. Eat two bowls if you want."
She tossed her card at me and stormed off.
This has never happened before. Throwing a tantrum, inconveniencing others—she ordered and just left.
At this point, I was pissed too.
The restaurant owner nervously approached. "Uh... what would you like to do?"
"Guess I'll eat what we ordered."
The food came, and I forced myself through nearly two servings. I felt sick, which just made my mood worse.
Back home, Da-hee was face-down on the bed—probably had been crying. I stopped by a bakery on the way back, just in case she was hungry.
Then I apologized.
"Da-hee, I'm sorry. I just—"
"Just drop it! Let's pretend it never happened. I don't even know anymore."
I stood there awkwardly as she buried her face in her arms.
"Oppa, you've done enough to me already. You know if I went to the police right now, you and that bastard would both be arrested without a word in your defense, right?"
I quietly bowed my head.
"But I still want to make this work. I force myself to endure all the fucking memories that pop up a hundred, two hundred times a day. So what the hell do you even want from me?"
...Was that it?
I sighed, slumping to the floor.
Yeah. This is all my fault.
I should've just stuck to porn and doujins.
But no—I had to bring it into reality like some fucking lunatic.
The room was thick with silence for who knows how long.
Then, out of nowhere, Da-hee sat up.
"I'm going out for some exercise."
"Exercise? Now? Where? You didn't even eat."
"I skipped last week because of my period, and this week I've just been lazing around because of the heat. I'll just walk around the neighborhood park. I need to cool off."
And with that, she left.
But wait—she wasn't on her period?
Then that discharge earlier was...
No way.
Fuck.
She hadn't even changed—just walked out in that same loose dress from earlier.
About two minutes after she left, my phone rang.
It was Choi Ara.
"What now?"
< To be continued >