A Table Already Set
Galleria From — a site Dan-woo had not set foot in since logging on after his very first stream.
In the Streamer Gallery there, they had already crowned him Gallery King and begun to sing his praises.
Somewhere beyond his knowledge, a seismic shift was underway in Twitch's male-streamer scene.
"It's... quiet."
"Yeah..."
The moment the stream ended and I shut the computer down, the house fell silent. Without so much as the usual hum of machinery, I could have sworn a low drone was ringing in my ears.
Noona, who had been groping my chest even during the broadcast, went strangely well-behaved the instant the stream cut off. The atmosphere itself was ready — we could have started at any moment — and yet neither of us could take that one step forward. We just sat there like that.
Her hand fidgeted on my stomach. She showed no sign of moving on her own, so I laid my palm over the back of her hand and laced our fingers together.
"Ah... Dan-woo?"
Startled, she tried to pull her hand free, but I tightened my grip and drew it up to my face. I rubbed my cheek against her palm for a moment, then traced her fingers, one by one. The touch was slender and delicate and impossibly soft. Before long I had brought her hand to my lips.
"Wait— not there... hhn!"
I stuck out my tongue and licked her index finger. The scent of her skin, maybe — a fragrance no fabric softener on earth could manufacture — but the taste itself was surprisingly ordinary. Just skin. A faint saltiness from the sweat of hours pressed together, and nothing else.
Index to middle. Middle to ring. I moved from finger to finger, and in no time her hand was slick with spit. By then, lust had overtaken her nerves; her breath came hot and ragged.
"Noona."
"Haa... haa... what...?"
I turned my head toward Se-a, who looked ready to pin me down at any second. Why was she still holding back, even now? I couldn't begin to guess what was going through her mind. I only knew it wasn't what I wanted — so I showed her instead.
"Why are you looking at me like tha—"
I sealed whatever she was about to say with my mouth. Is this the average virgin of the Reversed World? We'd come this far and she still wanted to talk. At this point, even with a scarce male sitting right in front of her, you'd think she'd come on more aggressively.
"D-Dan-woo... ah!"
She broke the kiss midway to call my name. I had no idea what she meant to say next, but I doubted it would be anything good. So I didn't let her finish. I caught her lower lip lightly between my teeth.
"Who talks like that in the middle of a kiss?"
"Nnh..."
Was she embarrassed that I'd caught how unfamiliar this still was for her? Her face flushed, and she made a small, helpless sound. The kiss had already broken, so I shifted my position — turning from where we'd been facing the same direction until we sat looking at each other. That meant standing up once, which meant letting go of her hand, and the way she clung to my fingers, refusing to release them, was a little adorable.
I kissed her again and reached my right hand around the back of her head, my left curling behind her neck to hold her by the shoulder. I held her there and kissed her harder than before, until she shoved me back.
"Wai— mmph...! Hold on...!!"
She put real force into it. She must have been desperate. When our mouths parted and I looked at her, her face was scarlet and she was gasping for air. She still wasn't used to kissing — she hadn't figured out how to breathe through it.
Me? I'd gotten the hang of breathing on the very first kiss. Was that talent?
I watched her catch her breath and settle, then kissed her again. The third time, she took it smoothly. Sensing she could handle more, I moved my hands from the back of her head to the front — stroking her throat as if to tickle it, tracing the shell of her ear, following the line from her collarbone out along her shoulder.
Her ears are sensitive.
That was the spot that drew the biggest reaction. I wasn't about to waste it. I scraped a fingernail along the curve of her ear, then swept my fingers behind it.
"Mmh..."
Her earlobe was soft as jelly. Even a detail that small was enough to make me think she was perfect in every particular. By the third kiss she had learned to breathe through it, and from that point on we didn't separate for a second — kissing until I started to wonder if her lips would bruise.
Then she suddenly flinched, broke away, and spoke — her hand coming to rest on my cock.
"Hhn! D-Dan-woo...? This is... haah..."
So that was the soft, springy pressure I'd been feeling against the head. My fully hard cock had been jabbing into her stomach. Truth be told, I hadn't been thinking clearly either. From the outside it might have looked like I was leading her, but this was my first time too. And for the past few days, even if I hadn't shown it, holding back an erection had been genuine work. I'd finally let myself go, since I didn't have to hold it in anymore — and I'd been so lost in kissing her I hadn't even noticed I was hard.
"It's... why is it so... are all men this big?"
Ah. That felt good. I finally understood why the men on the old Earth got so hung up on size. It might have been their own pride talking — but when a woman acknowledged it, when she was genuinely impressed, the satisfaction that filled you was no small thing.
"I'm a little special, aren't I?"
There were any number of conditions for becoming Grade 1. The two hardest were ejaculation frequency and genital size. Frequency meant twice a week or more; size meant thirteen centimeters or longer, with a girth of at least twelve. Of course, those numbers were difficult to hit on paper — but the men of this world were happier with a lower grade. A higher one just meant more obligations piled on your back.
Even accounting for the Grade 1 standard, I'm a bit ridiculous.
I didn't know what this body had been like before I arrived in it, but since then I'd been capable of finishing three times a day or more. The size, too, would have qualified as well-endowed even by old-Earth standards — seventeen centimeters, with a girth of fifteen or sixteen. At that point you could tell through a pair of pants that something was off. And Se-a was holding it in her actual hand, so it would have hit even harder.
"W-will it even go in? If it's this size... it'll reach here?"
She roughly measured the tent, then held that length against her own lower abdomen to compare. When she saw it reached just below her navel, she swallowed.
Does she know? That looking like that drives me insane.
If she knew and was pretending she didn't, she had the talent to be an actress, not an Escort Officer.
"What? Scared?"
"A-a little."
Her voice carried a thin thread of worry and unease beneath the heat. I took the hand that was still wrapped around me, pulled it free, and guided it down inside my pants. The shape came through even more clearly over my underwear, and we both flinched.
"Haa... haa... D-Dan-woo... ah!"
She slowly coiled her fingers around me over the fabric, squeezed, released, squeezed again — then suddenly yanked her hand out, scooped me into her arms, and stood.
"Noona?"
She didn't answer, just breathed hard and started walking. I followed her gaze and saw where she was headed: the sofa in the center of the room.
This duplex, I swear!
It was no help at all. The bed was on the second floor, so she had no choice but to lay me out on the sofa. I thought that as I watched her set me down.
"Dan-woo... hh... haa..."
She buried her face in the crook of my neck as I lay there and drew in a long, deep breath, then let it out. To get even closer to the scent, she had one knee up on the sofa and her whole upper body pressed flush against mine. If you paid attention, she really did love the way I smelled. Scent fetishes were pretty common, apparently.
The whole time, her hand never left my cock. The faint pleasure of that awkward stroking was a pain that wasn't quite pain — the particular agony of wanting something stronger and not being given it.
"Se-a..."
I called her name in a voice tangled with desperation and rapture. The desperation was that I couldn't feel more. The rapture was that, in trying to give me more, she had slipped her hand inside my underwear.
And then something I hadn't expected happened.
"N-noona?"
"D-Dan-woo. I'm sorry!"
She yanked her hand back out and lurched to her feet. I called after her in confusion, and she apologized out of nowhere and started walking toward the front door.
What... what is this...
I stared blankly at her receding back.
I've lost it. I've lost it. I've lost it.
Se-a berated herself with every step toward the front door. She had been lying on the sofa, breathing him in, sliding her hand into his underwear — and then—
Se-a...
That pleading voice. In that instant, she had come back to herself.
An Escort Officer, of all people — a man who almost got raped... and it's only been a few days!
Dan-woo had said things that sounded like permission, but that was only because she was his Escort Officer. It was not because he had gotten over what happened. And still she had gotten carried away — kissing him, touching him through his pants, scooping him up on her own and laying him on the sofa to bury her face in his scent. And at the end of all that, she had put her hand inside his underwear and tried to touch him directly.
That fact drove into her like a blade. The knowledge that she had tried to handle a man who was still recovering, however she pleased, hurt.
She needed to cool her head. Then she needed to report this honestly — take whatever punishment came, or be replaced as his Escort Officer. Something. She had to do something.
She reached the last interior door before the front entrance.
"Lee Se-a."
Dan-woo's voice.
"H-huh?"
He had called her by her full name. She spun around, startled. He looked nothing like the Dan-woo she knew — restless, and angry besides.
Why?
Is he disappointed in what I did? Or does he resent me? Because I... betrayed his trust?
Every reason that surfaced was worse than the last, and none of them would leave. While she piled worst upon worst, Dan-woo kept coming. Then he was right in front of her, and he caught her by the wrist—
"Ah!"
—and shoved her roughly back against the wall.
"D-Dan-woo? Why..."
Her knees had bent slightly when her back hit the wall, and when he rose onto his toes their mouths were close enough to touch. Se-a started to say something. Dan-woo covered her lips with his, pushed his left hand up inside her sweatshirt, and closed it over her breast.
The touch through her bra, and the bare skin-on-skin against the uncovered upper swell of her chest, sent a shiver through her. The first time a man's hand had ever found her bare skin — and the touch itself was electric.