My Friend's Mom, Jeong-ah (2)
"Hey. Jeong Dongho. You hear me? What the hell are you doing with my mom's picture?"
Seongdae glared back and forth between me and my phone, his brow furrowed in that signature scowl of his.
"Huh? What?"
A sudden instinct told me I shouldn't answer this one honestly. Something about the way he was looking at me said that if he found out I was texting his mom, he would lose it.
She messaged me first!
I wanted to scream the truth at him from the inside.
"That's my mom's chat profile, isn't it?"
Seongdae's brow furrowed even deeper.
"Uh... yeah."
Ah, crap. The second that already-old-looking face of his scrunched up, I found myself agreeing without thinking. The moment I confirmed it, Seongdae took a big step closer.
"You texting my mom?"
"Yeah..."
"Why?"
"......"
"I'm asking you. Hey, Jeong Dongho. Why the hell are you texting my mom?"
"Ah. The thing is, your mom sometimes packs me food and stuff. And today I ran into her on the way to school, and she said she had something to ask me! She messaged me first!"
The excuses tumbled out of me like a machine gun. I glanced at Seongdae's face the second the words left my mouth. He stood there with his arms crossed, staring straight at me, looking like he was turning it over in his head.
"Alright. Fair enough."
Whew. A sigh of relief slipped out of me.
Seongdae was a simple guy — if something made sense to him, he would accept it and move on. But if he couldn't understand it, or it didn't sit right, he would latch on like a rabid dog and never let go.
"But why were you looking at my mom's picture?"
"I was just curious. I wanted to see a family photo, I guess."
The words came out of nowhere, and I didn't even mean them. Wanted to see a family photo? It was a line I had thrown out on the spot to tug at Seongdae's sympathy. The law of the jungle. So this was what they meant by a weakling's improvisation.
"A family photo?"
"Yeah. You wouldn't know, but... sometimes I miss that kind of thing."
Seongdae stared at me with an unreadable expression.
Please. Please. Just let it go. Looking at your mom's picture, having dirty thoughts — it isn't like her body's wearing out from it. I put on the most pitiful face I could muster, desperate not to poke the bear that was Seongdae's personality.
"Hmph... you little shit. Family, huh. That's just embarrassing..."
"Sorry if that made you uncomfortable..."
"I thought you were jerking off to my mom or something."
Whew. This guy was a goddamn mind reader. Popular kids really did have sharp instincts. If we hadn't been at school, I might already have had my pants down and my dick out over the phone.
"If something's bothering you, just say so. We're friends, aren't we?"
Pfft. I almost laughed out loud.
Friends? Since when had he ever thought of me as a friend? We only knew each other this well because we lived in the same villa and our parents knew each other. Otherwise I would have been Seongdae's punching bag and lunch-money mule a long time ago. That much was obvious.
"Yeah. Thanks, really."
I put on a face of genuine gratitude. Under the force of Seongdae's presence, my dick — which had been standing at full attention — had wilted off to the side. The school uniform pants were tight, and it was more than a little uncomfortable. I had no choice but to slip a hand into my waistband and adjust myself. A bead of moisture had gathered at the tip.
Ha... if I were home right now... I could just...
One bikini photo of Seongdae's mom and I was this swollen. For a moment, the image of her naked body flashed through my mind again.
Dongho... don't do this to your friend's mom.
A distant voice of conscience seemed to call out from somewhere far away. Alright. Get a grip, Jeong Dongho.
I was still fondling myself with my hand down my pants when a strange feeling made me look up. Of all times, why now? My eyes locked dead-on with Suyeon's, sitting right next to Seongdae.
Heo Suyeon. Pale skin, a slim figure, always hiking her uniform skirt up above her thighs — a provocative girl. Suyeon had gorgeous legs and always wore that haughty expression, which had earned her the nickname Ice Princess. Ah, and she was also Seongdae's girlfriend. Rumor had it she had been held back a year from causing too much trouble at school. That was probably why she and Seongdae got along so well. So that made her the same age as me?
It just so happened that the moment Suyeon glanced back, my hand was right there, stroking my crotch. Her face hardened the second she saw my hand shoved down the front of my uniform pants. It was a look that said, What the hell is that guy doing?
Haa... what kind of day is this. Why is everything going like this.
"Shit."
Suyeon looked straight at me, furrowed her brow, and mouthed the word. We were pretty far apart, but I could read her lips perfectly. She wouldn't take her eyes off my waistband. I was just as frozen, hand still buried in my crotch, too startled to move.
How was I supposed to get out of this naturally? Today was turning into a day that demanded improvisation at every turn.
I put on an awkward smile and gripped my still-rigid dick. Thanks to the tight uniform pants, the outline of it was clearly visible, trapped between my thighs. Then a brilliant idea hit me. I would do a little method acting — pretend someone was coming through the door — and throw Suyeon off.
Huh?
I widened my eyes in an exaggerated look of surprise and stared at the front door of the classroom. Genius. Absolute genius. She had to have fallen for it. In that instant, I shifted the thing that had been pinned against my left thigh back to the center.
Yes! That looked natural.
Once I had rearranged myself, I slowly slid my hand out of my waistband. How about that. Method acting at its finest.
Hah...
When I turned my head back, Suyeon was still looking at me. This time her gaze on my crotch was even more blatant.
Failed... ah, whatever.
I made a point of not looking away from Suyeon's eyes, pretending I hadn't noticed a thing. Our eyes met as she stared a hole through my pants. For a second, I thought her face flushed a little pink. Was I imagining that?
Ding-dong-dang-dong.
Whew. The class bell saved me just in time. Today... what a goddamn shitty day this was turning out to be.
I couldn't focus on class at all. Time crawled, and for some reason my heart was racing. All I could see in my head was Seongdae's mom that morning — that loose short-sleeved shirt, the cleavage peeking out. My dick, going hard and going soft under the desk on repeat, felt almost pitiful today.
Sorry, Seongdae. Imagining things in my own head is my business, isn't it? Every time Seongdae's mom popped into my mind, I rationalized it to myself — it was just imagination.
Ding-dong-dang-dong~
Class over. Cheers and groans erupted from the kids in the room. Another day survived by the student-ants, grinding away to become soldier-ants.
Five o'clock.
The second homeroom ended, Seongdae slung an arm around Suyeon's shoulder and walked out of the classroom. Where were Seongdae and Suyeon headed? They sure as hell weren't going to a study hall. A pointless curiosity flickered through me, but the world of popular kids was something a loser like me couldn't even begin to guess at.
I packed my bag slowly and headed home.
What did Seongdae's mom want to ask me? Seongdae's grades? No. That couldn't be it. Seongdae had given up on studying back in middle school. There was no reason she would ask me about his grades now. Seongdae's love life? Even less likely. Why would she ask an outsider like me about her son's girlfriend situation when he was dating Suyeon, the hottest girl in our class? Adults could tell a loser from a popular kid even faster than we could. Seongdae's mom would know perfectly well which side I was on...
I felt a little gloomy for no real reason.
Lost in all those thoughts, I found myself standing in front of the four-story multi-family house I lived in. With a faintly trembling mix of anticipation and unease, I pressed the doorbell of Unit 102.
Ding-dong.
From the other side of the door came the slow sound of footsteps.
"Who is it?"
A faintly excited woman's voice leaked out through the door.
"Ah — it's me, Dongho."
Bee-ro-ree.
The door opened, and Seongdae's mom was standing there.
Hah.
The moment the door swung open, I let out a small gasp inside. No — it might have slipped out of my mouth.
The first thing that hit me was Seongdae's mom's thighs — so full they looked ready to burst — sheathed in a pair of thin gray leggings clinging to every inch. Up top she was wearing a crop top, but she had thrown a thin black knit cardigan over it. The buttons weren't fastened, so a gray sports bra and her pale, exposed navel were on full display. On top of all that, she was breathing a little hard.
"Hah... hah... Dongho... you're here? School let out early today, huh...?"
"Yes. Were you working out?"
"Mm. I try to do a little every day around this time, but it's harder than it looks."
"I didn't interrupt you, did I? I can come back later."
This damn mouth of mine. Trying to be polite, and out came words I didn't mean at all. Please. Please don't tell me to come back later. I want to keep looking... right now...
"No, no~ It's fine."
Beads of sweat had gathered along Seongdae's mom's forehead. She took the hair tie from her wrist and started gathering up that long, loosely waved hair. At the same time, a lush, smooth armpit came into view. Not a single hair on it — Seongdae's mom's underarm glistened as if a faint sheen of moisture had settled there. It looked like a sour-sweet scent would come pouring out of it. For a second I pictured myself burying my nose in that armpit and breathing her in deep.
Hah. I'm going to die. I really am.
Blood was rushing south again. Seongdae's mom, her hair now neatly tied back, wiped the sweat from her hairline. Those little beads of sweat along her forehead seemed to carry a faintly indecent scent of their own.
How is even her hairline sexy.
A yoga video sat paused on the living room TV.
"You can finish if you want."
"Hmm... then do you want to sit for a bit? It should only take five minutes."
Seongdae's mom slipped off the thin cardigan she had been wearing. Without meaning to, I started scanning her entire body from top to bottom. She must have felt that gaze, because she looked embarrassed.
"These clothes are a little... too tight, aren't they? I've put on some weight..."
She tied the cardigan around her waist. Ah, crap. Big mistake. I had completely failed to manage my eyes. She would have read every filthy intention in that up-and-down look. The way a man scans a beautiful woman — reading that kind of hunger is a beautiful woman's instinct. I wanted to gouge out these eyeballs of mine for blowing my poker face.
"Not at all~ You're really beautiful. Your figure is way better than that yoga instructor on TV."
"Oh, you~ Such a sweet talker."
"I mean it. I really think that."
I put extra weight on the words so she would know I was sincere.
"Don't make yourself uncomfortable on my account. Just do it the way you always do. I'll feel better that way too. And give me that cardigan."
I said it as naturally as I could, careful not to raise any suspicion. I wanted to dissolve whatever wariness she still had left. Take that cardigan off your waist and hand it to me, right now. I held out my hand with the most innocent expression I could manage.
"Mm... this is embarrassing..."
"It's fine. You need to see where you're engaging the muscles, right?"
"That's true. So you work out too, Dongho?"
"Of course. I follow along at home every day."
I lied without so much as blinking. The only yoga I had ever known in my life was Yoga Fire from Street Fighter. And I was pretty sure that wasn't the same yoga.
Seongdae's mom hesitated for a moment, then took off the cardigan and handed it over.
Yes!! I cheered on the inside. Today my method acting and my improvisation were landing pretty well.
With the cardigan gone, the wide flare of Seongdae's mom's hips came into view. Her whole body — that curving, pale figure in gray leggings and a sports bra — was showing off an angry, furious kind of beauty.
Hah...!
I couldn't believe my eyes.
It was a camel toe. An unmistakable, full-on camel toe.
The blunt, clam-shaped outline at the crotch of her leggings was stamped there in sharp relief, every contour on display.