Pandora's Box (2)
“Mmm....”
My wife shifted in her sleep, turning onto her side as if caught in a dream. Soft, faintly lewd moans slipped past her lips, the kind that suggested whatever she was dreaming about was far from innocent.
Was I the one starring in that dream of hers? Once, I would have been certain of it. Now I wasn’t so sure. Somewhere along the way, an invisible wall had risen between us—thin, transparent, but unmistakably there.
I swallowed hard.
Sweet saliva pooled in my mouth as I gripped her phone. The knowledge that she had saved photos of her trainer Jang-woo’s body still hit me like a quiet shock. And right on its heels came the stiffening of my cock, swelling at the memory of that thick, heavy shaft of his, the one that had painted her face white with cum.
“Haa....”
Heat flushed across my cheeks. It felt as though I had stumbled onto one of my beloved wife’s most private secrets. The elegant, pure woman who had seemed to know no man but me turned out to be just as ordinary as anyone else.
I left the album that held Jang-woo’s pictures and opened another. True to her tidy nature, she had sorted everything into neatly labeled folders.
Selfies dominated, of course. Still only in her late twenties, her beauty was almost too radiant to be captured by a camera lens—luminous, dazzling.
Yes. This was my wife.
Photos from our dating days filled the phone as well, preserving every angle of that brilliant face. There she was on a summer beach, wearing a bikini for the first time: white fabric cupping the soft swell of her breasts, the narrow cinch of her waist, the graceful curve of her hips all laid bare.
Had she always been this beautiful?
My shoulders lifted with a quiet pride as I scrolled. That a man of no particular talent like me had somehow won a wife this lovely—it still felt like an improbable stroke of luck.
“Mmm.... nnh...”
She kept letting out those soft little sounds. What was she dreaming? The smooth skin of her bare shoulder peeked from the slip she wore, tempting me without even trying.
If my cock had been working the way it should, I would have shoved that slip up to her waist right then and buried myself to the hilt in her already-wet pussy.
Fuck....
I forced myself to focus and kept browsing. Food photos, travel shots, more selfies—nothing else stood out. Only those images of Jang-woo’s powerful body still nagged at me. Beyond that, she seemed to be hiding nothing.
“Haa....”
A sigh of relief escaped me before I could stop it. I had been half-afraid of finding some secret I was never meant to know, some version of her I had never seen.
Thank god. The Seung-yeon I loved—the woman I had lived with for years—was still exactly who I thought she was.
Fuck. What the hell am I even doing?
Suddenly the whole thing felt pathetic: me, following the instructions of some guy I had met online. Finding nothing on her phone only made the guilt worse, as if I had wronged her by suspecting her at all.
“Of course there was nothing...”
I muttered it under my breath and returned to her home screen. Disappointed by the ordinary contents, I began carefully erasing the browsing history so she would never know I had looked.
Then something caught my eye.
N Drive.
A strange prickle ran through my fingertips. The app sat tucked away in a corner of her otherwise ordinary collection of lifestyle icons.
I tapped the green icon with careful fingers.
“Ah....”
Luckily, it was already logged in. What greeted me were folders arranged with her usual neatness, sorted year by year.
2010, 2011, 2012... all the way to the present.
Each folder showed its size—some only a few hundred megabytes, others several gigabytes. As a working woman she would have work files stored here too.
What if her personal information was in there?
I opened the most recent one first—2021.
Just as I expected...
Last year’s folder held nothing special. Photos that seemed to sync automatically filled it, the same kinds I had already seen in her camera roll. Beyond that, only neatly organized personal documents: seals, family registers, ID copies.
So it was just a photo-sync folder.
Her meticulous nature had extended even to sorting pictures by year. As I worked my way backward, year after year, nothing unusual appeared.
Then I opened the folder from the year I first met her.
“Huh...?”
The days before I had ever known the woman named Oh Seung-yeon. That folder held versions of her I had never seen.
She looked so young...
Still early in her career, her face was softer, more girlish than I remembered. There she was wearing her employee badge, dressed in office attire, eyes full of dreams and ambition.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I looked at those old photos. A quiet pity stirred for the woman sleeping beside me now.
What if she had never met me?
With her looks and her easy charm, men must have swarmed around her. Her reserved, proper nature would have kept most of them at a distance, yet if she had wanted, she could easily have married someone rich and handsome.
Instead she had chosen me for love alone. A love with no other purpose. That was why I loved her—and the only thing I had ever been able to give her in return.
Cute...
Pictures of her at work, of the hobbies she had before marriage. She had always loved cooking, always loved good food. Those photos didn’t look so different from the woman I knew now.
Wait...?
Near the very end of the album, one photo stopped me cold.
What is this?
In the dark room I almost doubted my own eyes. There was my beloved Seung-yeon, smiling brightly—and beside her, arm draped around her shoulders, stood a man I had never seen.
Who the hell is that?
Sunglasses, a wide grin, tall and handsome in that clean, masculine way that turned heads. The background was the sea—an unmistakably exotic sea, somewhere in Southeast Asia. Dozens of photos of the two of them filled the folder.
Who the fuck are you?
I swiped slowly to the next image.
Haa... fuck...
With every photo my suspicion hardened into certainty. At every scenic spot, every tourist site, that same stranger stood beside her. The smiles were pure happiness. My beautiful wife beamed as she nestled into his arms. The dates hit hardest of all: these were from only a month or two before she met me, when she still looked so fresh and young.
She had a man.
When we first met she had told me it had been a long time since her last breakup. That she had met good people, that it had ended, that she finally felt ready again. Her careful answers to my careful questions had made it clear she didn’t want to talk about it, so I never asked again.
“Haa....”
Hot breath left my mouth. The urge to piss that had woken me earlier was gone; even the thirst in my throat had vanished.
Fuck...
I felt filthy. As if I had seen something I was never meant to see. The warm fondness I had felt looking at her younger self vanished under a sudden black cloud.
Yet my fingers wouldn’t stop. Like junk food you know you shouldn’t keep eating, I kept swiping, unable to look away.
Resort after resort, tourist spot after tourist spot—my wife and that man soaking up happy days together.
Videos....
Mixed in with the photos were videos they had taken there. I tapped one that stood out.
“Honey, the weather’s so nice.”
Her familiar voice filled the quiet room.
“Right? Glad we came, huh?”
“Yeah. I should always listen to you.”
On screen she cooed at the man in a honey-sweet voice, full of playful affection. He looked at her with open delight.
“C’mere.”
A soft smack of lips.
He leaned in and she kissed him. The kiss between my wife and that stranger played out right there on the screen.
Fuck....
I stopped the video in a rush. Something boiled up inside my chest. The hand holding the phone had begun to tremble.
Oblivious to what was happening inside me, the next video started automatically.
Again the beach, broad daylight. This time the man was filming.
“Feel good?”
“Yeah. It’s amazing.”
She was in the water, answering him with that bright, signature smile of hers. Anyone could see how happy she was.
Then she began to walk out of the sea.
“Hhk....”
A ragged sound tore from my throat. The sight of her emerging from the water was almost unreal.
Sunlight glittered on her wet, pale skin. But it was what she was wearing that punched the air from my lungs.
A white bikini.
The exact same white bikini she had worn the first time we went to the beach together.
“I’ve never worn anything like this before...”
I remembered how she had shyly covered her breasts in front of me that day. I had believed every word, flashing her a thumbs-up and pouring out praise about how beautiful she looked.
Now there was no shyness at all. Her breasts swayed freely as she climbed out of the water. The soaked fabric clung to her full thighs, outlining the deep cleft of her pussy in sharp relief.
She stepped straight into the stranger’s arms. With every step her breasts bounced as if they might spill free of the bikini top.
“I love you!”
“Aww. You like it that much?”
“Yeah. I love you so much.”
The video ended with her clinging to him, shouting that she loved him.
Fuck....
It felt disgusting. Hearing her say those words to a man who wasn’t me.
“Huu...”
But then why...
My cock was swollen to the point of bursting. Pre-cum had already leaked from the tip, soaking a dark patch into my underwear.
“Mmm....”
Beside me, my wife stirred again. One thing was certain: the man in her dream right now was not me.
The one making her moan like that—wasn’t it the man from these videos?
Slowly, I began to push my pants down.