Between Love and Colleagues (6)
As if uncorking a long-aged liquor to mark an anniversary, Yuchan devoured Minjeong's body without restraint. In truth, it had taken more effort than brewing the stuff, and the urge to claim his reward kept him from stopping. Even as he carried her limp, urine-soaked form to the bathroom—still buried inside her—he continued to ravage her. Minjeong wailed hoarsely from the shower floor, her voice nearly spent, her swollen pussy squirting with every thrust like a broken sprinkler. It had its own appeal, that puffy slit, though it would've been cleaner without the pubic hair. A minor regret.
"Haaah... haaang... again... I came again... haaak..."
The bathroom floor was drenched from her endless gushing. Sure, his cock felt good, but pissing herself after twenty-five years of virginity and twenty-five orgasms? What a pathetic slut with a loose urethra. Yuchan eyed the scant, clear fluid she squeezed out with cold disdain. Pretty or not, filth was filth. If she were his pet, he'd punish the accident harshly—but today, he just stroked her hair gently. Custom sex to his taste could come later. Above all, he had no intention of playing tightrope games with Minjeong. She was sharper and more decisive than expected; half-assed threats would likely backfire spectacularly.
Gulp! Gulp! Thick semen, undiluted from the start, flooded her womb. She didn't even protest the bareback creampie, just twitched her hips in delight. Drunk on pleasure, clearly.
"Hoo."
"Ahng..."
Pulling out his still-rigid cock unleashed a glob of semen from her quivering folds, foamy from the final pistons. Yuchan adjusted the water halfheartedly and scrubbed her body and the bathroom towel like livestock after a fair. No piss stench allowed. He roughly wiped Minjeong—still face-down on the floor—wrapped her in the towel, and hoisted her up.
"Haang...!"
"Pull yourself together."
Her body writhed with a weird squeak at the casual brush of his hand on her ass. Leave her like this, she'd catch a cold; take her to the soaked bed, worse. Yuchan dumped her on the sofa.
"Minjeong-ssi?"
No answer. Passed out, probably. No signs of stirring anytime soon. Leaving her in the living room, Yuchan headed to the bedroom. Sour stench hit his nose. He opened the window for air, then lifted the mattress whole. No waterproofing here, and after that fountain show? Springs soaked through. Ruined. Time for a smoke anyway—might as well ditch it. Gift her a new one later.
Yuchan shouldered the bodily-fluid-stained mattress carefully and stepped out. Lit a cigarette immediately. He'd spiced things up for stimulation, but post-sex cleanup filled his head.
"What a pain in the ass."
Harsh smoke stabbed his lungs, calming the boiled-over lust. Devouring Minjeong on impulse brought fleeting satisfaction and triumph, but emptiness yawned awake again. A thick, pitch-black void threatening to swallow him whole. Silence and nihilism were Yuchan's lifelong companions. Nothing filled his heart but ruining and destroying others—and most couldn't endure his "affection," crumbling under it. They broke just when he invested emotion... He wished they'd consider his hassle of sourcing new toys.
Yuchan dumped the bed in the trash and returned upstairs. Full lust vented, mission accomplished. Honestly, he'd rather ditch Minjeong and crash at home. But she was a coworker. The affair was consensual, no affection hit, but ghosting post-fuck tanked manners. Her body was worth more rounds—that slender waist and unreal ass were rare gems. A bit more hassle for that prize.
Suddenly, he wondered: if he were a normal guy, what would he think now? Adore the exhausted, sleeping Minjeong and pamper her? Or just go through motions because it's "normal"? He couldn't know. Probably never would, eternity or not. Nameless defeat crept in; he exhaled it with bland smoke.
An old memory surfaced unbidden. A girl's words he'd scoffed at then.
"That's why... I feel sorry for you, mister."
Maybe he'd once had a chance to understand everything. Yuchan extinguished his cig and flicked the butt into the sewer. Cheap sentiment. No one rewinds the past—like that butt, unsalvageable in the drain.
2. Spotting a convenience store on the way back, he grabbed a Monster drink—pink can, first time, but he loved energy drinks. He'd killed the door lock power on exit, so no passcode needed. Entering, familiar clutter greeted him. Half-empty can to his lips, he strode to the sofa where Minjeong lay.
"Minjeong-ssi, still asleep?"
No reply, no "Where'd you go?"—but she was awake. No way she'd burrito herself head-to-toe in the blanket otherwise. Yuchan scratched his head and tapped her shoulder.
"Haa... I'm losing my mind..."
A deep sigh leaked from the shuddering shoulder. From her view, trauma: first time, pissing on the bed and him mid-orgasm. No wonder.
"Mumble mumble..."
Grumbling under the blanket, unintelligible. Yuchan yanked it off like stealing a toy; she dangled from it, whimpering "Hweeng hweeng."
"Nooo... nooo..."
Like a puppy robbed of its plushie. Static-frizzed hair made her look like a homeless guy evicted from his cardboard.
Yuchan gazed down impassively. Face beet-red, ears like boiled octopus. Tears welled with humiliated grievance.
"Uuuuuhhh..."
"Why get so embarrassed over that?"
Her utter shame oddly soothed him. Strange. Wanting more, he teased.
"You just pissed on the bed and me during sex. That's it."
"Ugh, seriously... I wanna die..."
"Don't worry, I don't care. Bed's outside now. Sorry—ruined it for nothing."
Silence, then more agony.
"Why switch to formal all sudden! Haa~ Do Minjeong, you crazy bitch..."
"I don't mind at all. Guess I was too good."
"...Really?"
She tilted her head, big eyes peering up. He nodded; her face twisted oddly as she muttered.
"Well... you were too good..."
Too intense for a virgin like her—fucking till blackout? Straight out of smut. Feeling the cool air, she suddenly clutched her chest. Naked under the blanket—shame had blinded her till now.
"I've seen it all. What's hiding now?"
"Still~ You were naked too then. And drop the formal. If you wanna preserve my last dignity, treat me casual like before."
Post-sex revert to polite felt like distance to her. Yuchan unbuttoned his shirt.
"Should I strip again?"
"Sounds good."
Minjeong seemed hooked on his body—no flab, all sexy muscle. Still vivid in her mind. He obliged, stripping and sitting beside her. She snuggled like a girlfriend, skin-on-skin electric.
"Haa... I said cum outside, but you creampied twice. Gotta grab morning-after tomorrow. Pharmacy sell it?"
"Got one here. No prescription hassle."
"Ugh, still shady. Should I pregnancy-trap you?"
"Eh, nah."
Even if she did, he'd coldly push abortion without blinking. What face then? Learning his glamorous facade masked empty darkness—contempt? Terror? Passion ebbed; she looked glum. Guilt over the pleasure high, no doubt.
She hooked her arm in his, burying her face.
"Oppa, but... what about Nayae?"
Yuchan was dating Nayae. Minjeong knew, seduced him anyway. No nerve to demand breakup post-fuck. But possessiveness lingered—giving her first made him special. Did he fuck Nayae as rough? Fluffy image: diligent Nayae questioning at academy, perfect daughter-in-law vibe, boys' gossip fodder tits. Imagined under his fit body, gasping. Guys like young and busty, right? Confidence dipped.
"Why no answer?"
"Sorry, thinking."
"Yeah, you got a lot on your mind."
If she'd heard someone cheat with a coworker, she'd despise them. But "affair if others, romance if me"—Yuchan didn't repulse. Few men breeze past that guiltlessly. Her allure worked; joy. Yet guilt stabbed sharp—stealing another's man. Self-loathing peaked amid desire to continue. Just reordered turns; no handing him over. Not just charm—the bodily bliss unforgettable.
"For now..."
"Wait!"
Minjeong cut him off before lips parted. Fear of his words; preempt.
"Even if you stay with Nayae, I don't care. Just meet me sometimes... deal?"
Yuchan was surprised. Her pride and jealousy bent in plea. Expected breakup demand, not "second place okay." No visible hurt either. No serious dating experience meant no realism here?
"We meet daily at work, but... you know what I mean by 'meet'?"
She wagged a finger like lecturing class. Her compliant dodge deserved reward.
"Like this?"
"Kyaa!"
Hand dove between her thighs. She yelped at the sudden probe. Brushing coarse pubes, fingers kneaded slick labia.
"Acad... yeah... this kinda meet..."
Late learners bite hardest; unleashing 25 years' lust today? Light presses soaked his fingers. Maybe wet since sitting naked beside him. He kissed her, groping her breast. One more round obligatory.