Declining Industry Worker
Virgins are an extremely troublesome species.
They want so many things, yet they never actually know what they want.
In the simulations running inside their heads, the standards climb endlessly high. But they have never actually done it. That is where the gap forms. The moment real experience arrives, the little inconveniences pile up and disappointment sets in.
"How was it?"
"It was fun. But…"
"Yes?"
"I should have worn something lighter."
He already knew that. Especially the severe delusions of this twenty-three-year-old spinster.
If she had dressed lightly, she would have decided it did not feel like a proper date.
A water park. To enjoy it properly you had to come out in thin, comfortable clothes. But then the atmosphere would not hold. It would never satisfy this virgin’s fantasies.
Thud!
So they rode a motorboat instead. A light tour of the upper reaches of the Bukhan River and back.
"Next time let’s do it that way."
"Next time?"
"You don’t want to come with me again?"
"Sometimes… it might be all right."
A water park in name only. Flying boats, wakeboards, water slides, floating trampolines—plenty of variety, and plenty of people enjoying them. He and Rachel watched the guests from a distance.
A little lingering regret is better.
The aftertaste lasts longer that way. A virgin’s imagination would explode inside her head. Actually riding the attractions was a hassle in its own right—water splashing everywhere, the need to shower afterward.
"Want to take one more lap on the boat before dinner?"
"You said you’d treat me to something delicious, didn’t you?"
"It won’t be better than this, but…"
"Ah."
As a virgin who wanted to stay neat and clean, the thought clearly bothered her. He had already factored that in.
Smack!
He had been needling her from the first meeting. A light brush of lips and her face flushed scarlet.
"Why do you keep kissing me…"
"You don’t like it?"
"It’s not about liking or disliking yet!"
Pure virgin reaction. Yet the earlier look of open displeasure was gone.
There’s a gap, after all.
She could not simply brand him a bad man when she had also spent an enjoyable time. Her head must be a mess. He had built an atmosphere where getting angry felt embarrassing.
"That’s a man’s instinct."
"Don’t you know that depending on the situation it can become a crime?"
"Once a good woman like you gets taken by someone else, it’s already too late."
He guided her understanding, pulling her out of reason and into the realm of feeling. He held her gaze steadily. Flustered, she pressed her lips shut again.
Squeak—
She said nothing until they stepped off the motorboat. She needed time to sort her thoughts.
"Are you taking me seriously?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you say those terrible things? Especially this afternoon…"
"Ah, that was because I felt like raping you."
"Kyaa!"
They moved from boat to shore. Startled, Rachel nearly lost her footing. He caught her by the waist. Even after she calmed down she could not meet his eyes.
"When a woman this attractive appears, instinct orders you to make her yours."
"S-stop…"
"I want to pin you down and claim you as mine."
"Stop teasing me…"
He whispered against the back of her neck until her pale ears burned red. She had no resistance. Rachel’s pleading voice finally signaled surrender.
As if she doesn’t secretly want a man to do exactly that.
Waiting for a prince on a white horse was every virgin’s common trait. This one was a severe case. Always sharp-edged, never yielding a single word. In truth she wanted someone who would crush her flat.
"You don’t like assertive men?"
"Th-that’s vulgar!"
"I thought you’d be the type who stays bossy even in bed."
"Ugh."
Economic knowledge superior to Rachel’s. A personality that would take the lead in a relationship between man and woman. With those two things alone, a woman like her fell surprisingly easily.
There simply aren’t any such men around her.
Knowledge aside, her looks alone were extraordinary. No man standing in front of her would dare treat her rudely. She had pouted again, lips pressed tight. But once they reached the restaurant and she watched the fish sizzling on the grill, curiosity won.
"What kind of fish is that?"
"Eel. You’ve probably had it as sushi."
"Ah, that fish!"
Her gourmet instincts kicked in. Before she was an investment mind she was a food lover.
Her palate is ridiculously picky.
Take her to a Michelin place and she barely reacts. She has eaten every delicacy under the sun since childhood. Yet even for Rachel this was an interesting sight. Eel looked and tasted different from ordinary fish.
Sizzle…!
"You grill it like this too?"
"When you taste it you’ll be surprised."
"We’ll see whether that’s bluster or not."
She turned her head as if uninterested, but a gourmet’s instincts could not be denied. She swallowed hard. Anyone would, faced with neat rows of grilled eel.
"Here, try it. Just a pure piece of eel first."
"I’ll try it."
Anyone could see her fingers were itching. The tip of her chopsticks trembled, and it was not because she was clumsy with them.
She put it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, determined to savor every note.
"I expected something like salmon, but it’s much cleaner. Soft and fluffy texture, with the crisp skin giving a lovely accent."
"Good, right? Eat plenty."
"How am I supposed to eat the side dishes that came with it?"
"Ah, those are for wrapping…"
Her earlier shyness lasted only a moment. True to her gourmet nature she quickly grasped the charm of eel.
A delicacy you can’t get from ordinary fish.
She could not resist the temptation. Before long she was eating in earnest without caring who watched.
Thud!
She laid a piece of eel on a leaf of lettuce, brushed it with haeseonjang sauce, and arranged a neat slice of ginger.
Perilla leaves are the orthodox choice, but…
Just as Koreans often cannot handle cilantro, foreigners tend to find perilla leaves overwhelming. Besides, the lettuce here was specially delicious—grown in the field right in front of the restaurant. Unlike store-bought, it had almost no bitterness; you could eat it raw and still enjoy it.
"How’s the wrap?"
"Korean wrap culture is fascinating. Almost like a vegetarian’s utopia. Nutritionally excellent too."
"Just eat comfortably."
He wanted to introduce her to the Korean tradition of getting hit with a spoon for talking nonsense at the table, but he held back.
Patience.
She was already lost in the food. Eel was an ingredient that people who truly understood flavor could not help but love.
Clink!
And good food without alcohol felt incomplete. He had prepared a traditional Korean liquor.
"You can drink, right?"
"Yes. Is it soju?"
"I’m not particularly fond of soju."
Ureongi rice cheongju. A rare hundred-year-old brewery’s product, uncommon even in Korea.
It has a different charm from sake.
The flavor and aroma were far more complex. The body was thick enough that you truly felt you were drinking liquor.
Gulp!
The nose carried the savory scent of grain mixed with the richness of grain syrup. The taste was sweet, thanks to the high glutinous-rice content.
Even the vanilla note is heavy.
After purchase it had been aged several months; that was how it developed. A liquor with a fairly strong personality of its own.
"It pairs well with the food. I could drink as much as I want."
"I told you I’d treat you to a delicious meal."
"At this level I can admit it."
Considering her gourmet standards, that was high praise—praise even Michelin chefs rarely heard.
Of course the advantage of tasting something for the first time helps.
A country’s food and liquor. Eating them was always interesting. She smiled more brightly than she had all day.
"It was delicious."
"Was it?"
"Especially the charcoal cooking method—it added aroma to a fish that could easily have been bland…"
She was a little tipsy. She chattered on about her culinary philosophy.
The most delicious thing here is probably you, though.
She never noticed. When they stepped out of the restaurant the sun had already set. They walked through the cool night air. By the time Rachel came back to her senses—
"Where are we?"
"We checked in on the way up."
"Checked in…?"
"You knew and still came, didn’t you?"
They were already inside the hotel room. Listening patiently to her endless chatter had paid off.
Smack!
He sealed her noisy mouth with his own and drove a leg between her thighs so she could not move. She did not know what to do. Her eyes went wide and she thrashed, but the groundwork was already finished.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
She seemed to be trying to say something. Her lips were blocked, and he had no particular desire to hear it.
Pop!
He began undoing the buttons of her blouse. His fingers traveled naturally downward.
I already know every one of your erogenous zones.
They slipped inside her panties. She clenched her thighs with all her strength, trying to push him out. The pressure was enormous—enough to hurt the leg he had wedged between them—yet
Creak!
it soon gave way. He brought his fingers to the entrance of her sex and slid them just far enough to tease without penetrating.
Don’t push inside yet.
He stroked only the outer folds. The growing wetness on his hand told him everything.
"You felt that?"
"Y-yes?"
"Your pussy is soaking wet and you’re still playing coy."
She was on the verge of dripping, yet he had not brought her to a fully satisfying peak.
This one is a complete virgin who doesn’t even masturbate.
If nothing had changed from his previous life, that would be true. Until she met him she had never even touched herself. That did not mean she lacked interest. Careful, steady conquest always produced a response.
"Have you ever been pregnant?"
"Of course not!"
"Looks like today’s the day."
"?!"
The atmosphere. The coercive situation. A virgin’s imagination detonated. Her face flushed crimson as she was toyed with one-sidedly. Her body, slowly loosening, finally gave him the reaction he wanted.
"Felt good, didn’t it?"
"I-I don’t know about things like this…"
"Then I get to enjoy myself too. Come on—suck it."
The leg still trapped between her thighs. He jerked it upward. She flinched and clamped her thighs tighter, which only made the strength drain from her calves. A light shove was enough to topple her balance.
"Ah… ahh…"
Rachel collapsed onto her knees. Right in front of her eyes appeared a man’s penis—something she was seeing for the first time in her life.