My Wife Is Not a Whore (1)
"Let go of me!"
A startled scream tore from my wife's lips. Shocked by the man's sudden move, she began thrashing violently, trying to wrench free of his grip.
"Heh heh. You'd be better off coming along while I'm still asking nicely."
That thug bastard. What the hell is he after?
"Why should I go anywhere with you?"
Still flushed, she spoke toward him. One wrist caught in his hand, her pupils trembled faintly.
"I just want to talk for a minute."
"So why?"
"You'll see."
When she showed no sign of coming willingly, the man pulled his phone from his pocket.
No way...
Something about the way he had followed her up the stairs had felt wrong. He had stared at her bare, exposed ass with a lecherous look, then pressed in close behind her and done something I hadn't liked the look of.
The man put a full smile back on his face and held the phone up for her to see.
"Oh my God...!"
Her eyes went wide as she stared at the screen. He only looked more triumphant, shoving the phone closer to her face.
"D-did you take a picture of me?"
"What? Surprised?"
Of course. He had almost certainly captured the full, fleshy curves of her ass and thighs, laid bare beneath the dress.
She had been climbing the stairs in a daze, never realizing she was putting every private inch of herself on display for a complete stranger.
"I-I'm going to report you."
It was clearly her first time dealing with anything like this; her eyes darted wildly. She had no idea I was watching the whole thing. She would have to get through this alone.
"Delete it. Right now. Or I'm calling the police."
"The police? Pfft... Go ahead."
"Let go of me!"
She tried to shake his hand off, but his thick fingers refused to release her. The tattooed man's face, so at odds with her innocent looks, hardened into something ugly.
"I said come along quietly."
"Delete it right here. Now."
"Hah... We really aren't getting anywhere."
In a flash, the hand holding the phone swung toward her face.
Click.
"Wh-what are you doing!"
He had photographed her face. Caught completely off guard, she lunged for the phone, trying to snatch it away.
"Whoa. Now I've got your face too."
That son of a bitch...!
"Hah... I'm not saying it twice. Should I just upload this to the internet?"
"Don't. I mean it—I'll report you. Let go of me!"
She reached for her handbag, trying to get to her own phone, but his pull made it nearly impossible.
"Shh... Come with me."
Seeing the panic on her face, he simply started dragging her. His eyes were fixed on the men's restroom tucked into the far corner.
The bathroom again?
What he wanted was obvious. The bulge already straining the front of his pants said everything about his state.
"Let—let go!"
Only moments earlier she had been moaning around some pathetic guy's cock. The afterglow of that man's cum still filling her pussy couldn't have faded yet.
Fuck... I can't let this happen.
The thought hit me hard and sudden: I could not just stand here and let her go with him. I had gotten off on the way he ogled her lower body—but this was too much.
"Seung-yeon!"
Her name tore out of me before I could stop it.
"Honey...!"
Her huge eyes found me. Her face, already flushed with panic, looked ready to break into tears at any second.
"Who the hell are you!?"
Where the courage came from, I had no idea. I hated fighting more than almost anything, and I always went out of my way to avoid thugs who looked like this.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Still clamping her wrist, the man looked me over like I was a joke. He was easily one and a half times my size, and up close the thick reek of alcohol rolling off him was almost choking.
"I... I'm her husband."
"Her husband? Is that right? Is this guy really your husband?"
He asked while looking at my trembling wife. His expression said it all: This loser is your husband?
"Let go of her hand. Now."
"Heh heh... And if I don't?"
"Ah!"
He yanked her hard against him. Already broken of any will to fight, she lost her balance and spilled into his chest.
For a second her full breasts surged and swayed openly in the neckline of her dress.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"Did you know your wife walks around with no panties on?"
He was completely unhinged. Holding another man's woman and threatening her, his face carried a kind of sneering contempt.
"Let her go right now!"
"Heh heh. This guy doesn't listen either. Just walk away. I've still got things to say to this woman."
"What...?"
He had one arm fully around her now, stroking her shoulder. A lewd smile spread across his flushed, drunken face.
"You took pictures. Delete them."
"How did you know? You saw that too? You've been watching the whole time, haven't you? You little shit."
"Wh-what are you talking about!"
"Ah~ Now I get it. You're a pervert, aren't you? You're the one who made her take the panties off."
Drunk, he was spouting whatever came into his head, staring at my face with a mocking grin as if he had figured everything out.
Fucking bastard...
The worst part was that he was right. I was the one who had made her come without panties. I was the pervert. A heavy, shameful feeling rose in me, as if some filthy secret had just been dragged into the light.
"A woman who looks like this doesn't just walk around without panties. Heh heh. Right?"
Holding her from behind, he began whispering into her ear. Her eyes, shaking with fear, locked on mine.
Then his hand slid slowly downward and clamped hard onto the full, bare curve of her ass, completely exposed under the dress.
"Ah! Wh-what are you doing!"
I heard her startled cry—and saw that bastard's face, teeth bared in a grin as he looked at her.
"You fucking piece of shit!"
I don't know where the courage came from. It had been a long time since my body moved ahead of my reason.
Thud!
I just charged him. He was bigger and thicker than me, but nothing mattered more than protecting her right then.
A chaotic scramble—thuds, impacts—
"Argh...!"
"Hah... Where the fuck does this little shit think he's coming from."
In the end, I was the one on the floor. I had thrown myself at him and swung, but my fist only cut empty air. His uppercut slammed into my gut and I went down, clutching my stomach, completely KO'd.
"Hhk... ngh..."
Fuck. I can't even breathe.
"Honey...!"
My wife's voice rang in my ears. She was already crying; her voice shook hard.
"Oh my. What's going on over there?"
"Is someone down?"
That was when it happened. Voices rose in the distance. People had spotted me on the ground; the murmur of a gathering crowd was getting closer.
"Haa... You lucky fucking bitch. Count yourself fortunate today."
Startled by the sudden crowd, the man reeked of booze as he vanished. Even as he left, he licked his lips, eyes still fixed on the rolled-up hem of her dress and the lower half of her body.
"Honey! Are you okay!?"
Free of his arms, she dropped to her knees and tried to pull me up.
"Hhk... hah... I'm fine..."
I still couldn't catch my breath and tears stung my eyes, but the humiliation made me want to get out of there more than anything.
Above all, I knew several men's eyes were raking over her body. On her knees, lifting me up, her backside would be completely on display.
Fuck... Only I get to see that.
She was my wife. Only with my permission could anyone look at her body. I needed that to be absolute.
That my wife was not some whore who offered herself to anyone who asked.
"Honey..."
I lifted a hand and wiped the tears from her face.
Only a little while ago she had looked at me like I was an insect, furious. Something in that expression had shifted.
Was getting beaten worth it...?
Either way, she seemed genuinely moved by the sight of her husband throwing himself into a fight for her.
"I'm sorry, honey..."
She reached out and held me tight. On her tiptoes, I could feel her dress riding higher.
Hah... Other guys are watching.
With the dress hiked up, her pale ass would be fully exposed—but there was nothing I could do about it now.
I had no choice but to let her do what she wanted.
"Don't leave my side again."
"Okay..."
She nodded shyly. Looking into her eyes, I saw something like trust, like faith, taking shape there.
Whatever had been about to shatter between us was slowly setting again, still wet, still fragile—but holding.
Seung-yeon. You're my wife.
You're not a whore.
With her face still flushed and burning, hot breath slipped from between her lips as she looked at me.