My Wife's Trainer (1)
When I stepped out of the shower, my wife was drying her wet hair. The body that had been slick with sweat was now clean and smooth, her skin glowing with a fresh, luminous sheen.
"Oh. You're back, honey?"
She looked at me and smiled sweetly. She was always beautiful when she smiled, but the bright, refreshed look she wore after a workout made her feel like a goddess who belonged to me alone.
Except…
Flanking her on either side stood two people I was less than thrilled to see.
"Ah. Does your husband need to come along too?"
The trainer and the part-timer, who had finished showering and gone outside ahead of us, were standing around my wife, deep in conversation.
"Sorry?"
The trainer looked me up and down as he spoke.
Come along where?
I glanced at my wife, trying to get a read on the situation.
"Well, it's hot out today, so we were thinking of grabbing a quick beer. Want to join us?"
The trainer said it loudly, watching my startled face. His tone was thick with a confidence that left little room for refusal.
"A beer?"
Beer. On a day like this, a cold beer would normally be more than welcome—but I had no desire to drink with a pair of muscle-bound men. Especially not men who kept casting those suggestive looks at my beautiful wife. My stomach wasn't that generous.
"Oh my. That sounds great. Come on, honey, you should come too."
She urged me on with an innocent face. The woman who had been drenched in sweat only moments ago now looked at me with a clean, bright expression. Who could resist that kind of charm?
"If it's hard for your husband to join, we can just go by ourselves. That'd be fine, right?"
The pretty-boy part-timer cut in from the side, as if he had been waiting for exactly the right moment. He was practically pushing me for an answer.
"Ah…"
I could see his eyes drift toward the cleavage visible between the cups of her sports bra. For a second, the thick, heavy things I had glimpsed in the shower room flashed through my mind.
I swallowed dryly.
Just imagining them set off a flood of thoughts that absolutely should never be allowed to take shape.
"Fine… what the hell. Let's go."
"Cheers!"
Four five-hundred-cc mugs of beer clinked together. The beer hall was fairly large, but nearly empty, so we had taken a corner table by the window.
Beside me sat my lovely wife, still glowing with the vitality of a finished workout. My eyes kept drifting to the soft swell of her breasts between the white sports bra stamped with its athletic brand logo.
And across from me, on what should have been a perfectly good evening, sat a copper-skinned man flaunting his angry muscles and a pale, pretty-boy type, clinking their glasses together.
They talked in booming voices, trading crude jokes as if they had been born with lungs the size of furnaces.
"Haha. Really?"
My wife laughed and reacted to their stories. Whether she was genuinely enjoying herself or simply being polite, from the outside she looked completely absorbed in the atmosphere of the table.
"So what about you, hyung-nim?"
At some point the massively built trainer had started calling me hyung-nim.
Hyung-nim, my ass…
His forced familiarity was far from welcome, but I was playing along for the sake of the mood. All I wanted was to get home, lay my wife's warm, ready body down, and take her with all the fevered fantasies that had been building up today.
The thought that maybe—just maybe—my dead cock might respond the way it had last time filled my head completely.
"Honey, are you okay?"
After a few rounds, her pale skin had flushed a deep red. They kept mixing soju into her beer and topping off her glass without pause, and she kept sipping it down, little by little.
"Mm. Of course~ I'm fine."
She said it as if nothing were wrong, but I could tell at once that her tongue had loosened just a little.
"Take it easy."
I whispered it into her ear. They paid no attention and kept pouring into her glass.
Their capacity for alcohol was as enormous as their muscles. Empty beer mugs and soju bottles piled up in front of them like a small mountain. Whatever they found so endlessly entertaining, they kept locking eyes with my wife and chattering away with gusto.
Of course, they never once glanced in my direction.
"So, do the two of you still do skinship?"
The pretty-boy part-timer looked back and forth between me and my wife as he asked.
"Oh, come on, Soo-hyuk~ Of course we do. We do skinship."
Her face went red as she answered him right away. Soo-hyuk kept smiling at her with that polished, handsome face the whole time.
"Then… do you have sex a lot too?"
"Hup—!"
I nearly spat out the five-hundred-cc beer I had been drinking.
Had I heard that right? Asking if we had sex? What kind of rude question was that?
I stared at Soo-hyuk with a look of pure disbelief. His face held nothing but curiosity—an expression free of malice—as he looked at my wife.
"Th-that kind of question is a little too—"
"Aww~ We used to do it a lot, but these days not so much."
What?
An astonishing answer slipped from my wife's mouth. I had been about to call out how rude Soo-hyuk's question was. Even if he was close with her, a question like that was still out of line.
But her reaction was nothing of the sort. She took his words as a joke and cut me off, carrying the conversation herself.
"Whoa~ And you've got someone like Seung-yeon?"
Soo-hyuk fired off another question as if her answer had delighted him.
"Oh, please. Someone like me? I'm basically a full-blown ajumma now."
She smiled at him, looking embarrassed.
"What are you talking about? You're the hottest— I mean, the most beautiful woman at our gym!"
"Huh? First I've heard of it~"
"It's true. Some of our members come just to see Seung-yeon. There are even guys who ask me to introduce them to her."
The trainer, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, chimed in to back Soo-hyuk up.
I couldn't exactly disagree with them. My wife was the kind of refined, pure beauty anyone would fall for at a glance. Pale skin, wavy hair, a high nose bridge, and large, clear eyes—she was the kind of woman who still looked striking even with a mask on.
And in a sports bra that barely contained the swell of her chest, paired with leggings that put her full hips and thighs on full display, she was the kind of figure that would have been talked about endlessly among the men at the gym.
The thought of her being passed around in their mouths—teased, not quite harassed—made me feel petty and sour for no good reason.
"Come on, stop lying. I know my own wife."
I looked at the trainer and Soo-hyuk as I said it. Whatever they thought, she was still a married woman—my wife. Looking was one thing. What exactly did they think they were going to do about it?
"I'm serious. If I asked who wanted to go on a date with Seung-yeon, there'd be a line out the door."
"Oh, Soo-hyuk, you really do know how to talk."
When Soo-hyuk pressed the point as if he meant every word, my wife stepped in, looking shy, to mediate.
"You don't get jealous, do you?"
"Sorry?"
The muscular trainer, who had been watching in silence until now, finally spoke to me. It was the first time he had addressed me directly since we sat down for drinks.
"Jealousy. I was wondering if you don't feel any jealousy when it comes to Seung-yeon."
"Jealousy… We've been married a long time. Those kinds of feelings faded ages ago. Haha."
I gave him a good-natured smile as I answered. What exactly did he mean by jealousy? The sudden turn in the conversation made something in my chest flinch.
"So if Seung-yeon met someone else, that wouldn't bother you?"
"What?"
"Jealousy can be a form of interest in the other person. If there's no jealousy, I can't help wondering whether you really love your wife."
What the hell is this bastard talking about?
I hesitated, and the atmosphere at the table went cold in an instant. My wife was waiting for my answer too. For some reason, the words just wouldn't come out of my mouth.
"Th-that's…"
"Heh. Just kidding."
"Sorry?"
"I said I was kidding. Come on, have a drink."
The trainer lifted his glass with one thick, powerful arm, wearing a friendly smile. His strange question had left a bad taste in my mouth, but what bothered me more was that I hadn't been able to answer it. I found myself glancing at my wife for no good reason.
"Hoo… I'm starting to feel it now."
Time had already drifted toward midnight. After finishing our workout and drinking for hours, the bill was going to be anything but light.
My wife's pale skin was flushed a deep red, a rosy heat running through her whole body. The soft, tipsy smile on her face was remarkably beautiful.
I was dizzy from drinking quite a bit myself, but if I got drunk too, I wouldn't be able to look after her—so I was holding on to my senses as best I could.
"Honey. I'm going to the bathroom for a bit…"
She rose slowly from her seat. The full curve of her ass, wrapped tight in those leggings, caught the eye. The trainer and Soo-hyuk didn't miss the chance either—both of them seemed to be stealing looks at the valley between her swaying cheeks.
"Whoops."
As she stepped away from the table, her legs suddenly buckled. In that instant, the hand that caught her before she could hit the floor was not mine—it was the trainer's thick, powerful arm.
She ended up in his arms, practically sitting on his thigh.
"Oh my."
A startled little breath slipped from her lips. The sight of my wife perched on the split of his massive thigh muscles was almost unbearably sexy.
My beautiful, pale-skinned wife and the copper-skinned trainer with his massive build… I hated to admit it, but the two of them looked like a perfectly matched couple.
"Oh my. I'm so sorry."
"Not at all. If you're having trouble, I'll help you over."
The trainer patted her shoulder with perfect manners and helped her up. For a moment, her breasts—swelling softly between the cups of her sports bra—gave a little bounce.
"I'll just walk you to the door. The bathroom's outside, so it's dark and a little dangerous."
"Ah… I'm fine, really…"
"Come on, it's not safe. I'll get you there safely. I need to go myself anyway."
He took her arm and slowly guided her toward the door. She was thoroughly drunk, but she still seemed conscious of her husband—she glanced back at me for a second.
"Is that all right?"
The trainer must have noticed her hesitation, because he looked at me and asked. Hanging on his thick arm, my wife looked almost delicate.
"Sorry?"
"It's fine if I walk her over, right?"
"Ah… of course."
I had no choice but to go along with his suggestion. For some reason, in front of him, I felt an urge to act cool about it.
"See? He says it's fine."
"I'll be right back…"
She took the trainer's arm and slowly left the table. The faint flush on her cheeks as she went—was that just my imagination?