Since I'm Your Noona, I'll Drop the Formalities (1)

If you landed a strike, they multiplied whatever you'd just bowled by two. Or something like that.

I didn't actually know how bowling scores were calculated.

"What the…"

"Woojin-ssi, you're not very good at bowling, are you?"

"……"

Double.

Staring at a score that was barely half of Lim Jiwoo's, I felt a… a different flavor of defeat settling in. Something that had nothing to do with the game.

"Let's just go, Woojin-ssi. I worked up an appetite bowling so hard. You're hungry too, right?"

"Yeah, well… I guess so."

"I won today, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dinner's on me. I'll get you something good."

"Sure, sure…"

…This was pissing me off.

More than losing at bowling itself, it was that triumphant look on Lim Jiwoo's face that really got under my skin.

If I had to reduce her expression to a single character of laughter, it would be a lone, mocking heh. Not two of them. Just one.

I followed her as she walked with that faintly sneering look on her face, back down to the underground parking garage, and we got in the car.

"Should I head toward your place, then?"

"Yes. There's a decent sushi place near my apartment. Let's go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there."

"Sounds good."

I punched the address I'd dropped her off at last time into the GPS and pulled out of the garage.

After about twenty minutes of driving, we arrived at the officetel Lim Jiwoo lived in.

"Just park here. It'll be much easier to walk from the building and come back."

I followed her suggestion, left the car in her building's lot, and stepped out onto the street.

Early evening, late March. The weather that had felt faintly warm just a little while ago turned chilly the moment the sun started to dip. I found it pleasantly cool, but Jiwoo clearly did not — she shivered now and then as we walked.

"Uugh…"

"Are you cold?"

"Not cold cold. Just a little chilly."

She was already wearing a jacket, and I was in an ordinary sweatshirt, so it wasn't like I had a coat to offer her. The problem was probably the short shirt she had on underneath — the wind kept slipping right up under it.

"Which way, sunbae?"

"Hm? Oh — that way."

"Let's hurry, then. You look cold. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠We'll eat and get you inside."

Picking up the pace seemed like the best move, so I did — and then something slid in and wrapped itself firmly around my arm.

Of course it was Jiwoo. She clung to me the same way she had in the elevator. Tight.

Which meant her chest was crushed against my arm, squeezed into a shape that was, in an entirely different sense, very nice to look at.

That was about as direct as physical contact could get, and yet she still managed to make it look coy. That was all in her face.

"Mmnh…"

When I turned my head, she looked up at me with a smiling squint, as if to ask what the problem was.

"I'm really cold."

"I can see that. Let's eat and get you home."

"Mm. Okay."

To her credit, she had the sense to let go of my arm the moment we stepped inside the restaurant.

The sushi place was every bit as good as Jiwoo had confidently promised. We ate until we were comfortably full, stepped back outside, and started walking toward her apartment again.

"Aah…"

It had been warm inside, but the chill hit the moment we were back on the street. Jiwoo slipped her arm around mine again, casual as anything — except this time there was no smiling squint. She was looking at me with an expression I could only call sulky. Or maybe pouty.

Then something seemed to occur to her, and she broke into a little grin.

"That's right, Woojin-ssi."

"Hm?"

"We made a bet earlier. Do you remember what the stakes were?"

"If I won, you were going to start calling me sunbae…"

"But I won."

"And?"

"What do you mean, and…"

She shoved her lower lip out in a full pout and thunked her cheek against my shoulder.

"You don't remember what the bet was?"

"I remember."

"What was it, then?"

"That you'd get to do whatever you wanted with me today."

"Mm. So you do remember."

Good boy.

That was the look she gave me — the look of someone praising a person beneath her — and then she let go of my arm. She took a small step back, stretched my arm out to the side, and slipped straight into the space she'd made, right against my chest.

She pressed her breasts into me, brought her face even closer, and wrapped her own arm around my waist. Then she glanced at my hand, which was still sticking out uselessly to the side, and her face went sulky all over again.

"…Are you just going to stand there like that?"

"What am I supposed to do, then?"

"You're supposed to do this too."

As she said this, the hand she'd hooked around my waist started stroking slowly up and down. For Jiwoo, it was almost clumsy — whether she meant it that way or not, I couldn't tell, but the slight awkwardness only made it feel more deliberately coy.

Flattery works best when you commit to it. Jiwoo seemed to understand that principle perfectly.

"You're not going to? You said you'd do what I told you today."

"……"

I slid my arm around her shoulders. She rewarded me with a thoroughly satisfying eye-smile and started guiding me toward her building.

The actual skinship lasted less than five minutes, but the fact that she had controlled me for even that short stretch seemed to please her enormously. She smiled the entire walk to her front door. She was still smiling when she let me into her apartment.

"Come in."

She held the door and waved me in first, and there was a conspicuous ease about her — though the flavor of it was different now. This wasn't the smile of someone enjoying the fact that she'd put me on a leash. This was just… ease. Plain and simple.

"Oh…"

"Sit wherever you'd like. Can I get you some tea?"

"I'd love some."

"What kind? I've got something that's good for digestion, something that's calming… I like tea, so I have a lot."

"The calming one sounds good."

"Okay. Give me a minute. Make yourself comfortable."

While Jiwoo disappeared into the kitchen, I sat on the living room sofa and looked around. A quick survey of the place told me exactly where that ease had come from.

"This is your place, sunbae?"

"Of course it is."

"That's not what I meant. I mean… do you own it?"

"It's not in my name. Technically it's my dad's."

"Ah…"

So it was just the ease of coming from money.

Never mind what the unit itself was worth — every inch of the interior radiated comfort. Brand-new furniture. Family photos that practically exhaled good breeding. An atmosphere of quiet luxury that belonged to the apartment itself.

"If it's not too forward — what does your father do?"

"Dad? He runs a hospital down in Busan."

That tracked.

"So you're from Busan too?"

"Seoul, actually. Not long after I started working, Dad got transferred to Busan, I think? Mom went down with him."

While Jiwoo clinked around preparing the tea, I pulled up her page and skimmed it.

That I was the one who decided her promotion exam, and that this was a secret. That she had to satisfy my stamina if she wanted the points. That she was to keep provoking me. And the fourth — that she wouldn't hesitate to initiate physical contact.

The first three I could treat as locked in. The fourth was a little too vague for what I wanted out of tonight.

I thought about how to rewrite it.

Either way, Jiwoo already expected to end up overpowered. That was what she was aiming for — she'd keep poking at me until she got it. All I had to do was let those provocations actually piss me off, then give her exactly what she was asking for.

I just happened to want to see a particular look on her face while I did it. That was the only reason I'd written the remark that way.

Anyway.

"Here."

"Thank you, sunbae."

I thanked her briefly as she set down a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠small tray with two cups, then picked up the one with the faint green tint. It looked hot, so I took a careful sip — and whether it was the tea or just my imagination, something in my head did start to settle, just like she'd said.

My head, maybe. The rest of me was a different story. My cock was already running hot, and the reason was sitting right next to me.

Jiwoo set her own cup beside mine and sat so close we were practically sharing a cushion. Then, as if that weren't enough, she hooked her arm around mine.

"You have to do everything I say today, Woojin-ssi… How does that feel?"

"What's there to feel? I lost the bet. That's all there is to it."

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to be feeling?"

"What if I told you — since I get to do whatever I want with you — to just give me the points without taking the exam? What were you planning to do then?"

"Give them to you. A bet's a bet."

"Hnn…"

She made a small, thoughtful sound and rested her cheek on my shoulder the way she had outside.

I'd already deleted the remark about not hesitating to touch me. So how was I supposed to read this?

Obviously it wasn't that she'd suddenly developed real feelings. Jiwoo knew she was beautiful. She knew it very well. And she knew exactly how to use that fact for maximum return.

The return she wanted right now was, of course, promotion points. She'd been trying to squeeze them out of me with light physical contact, and every time, I'd given her nothing but lukewarm reactions.

By this point, the points themselves were beside the matter. Her pride was stung, and sheer stubbornness had taken over — she was going to seduce me one way or another.

As if to confirm the theory, she kept one arm hooked around mine and set her other hand on my thigh. Then she started stroking. Soft, slow passes of a soft hand, and the half-hard cock I'd been nursing since we sat down filled even further.

Given the size I'd set it to, there was no hiding it. Fully hard because of her, it tented my pants so obviously it was almost comical.

"Woojin-ssi. So today, you're going to listen to me? You're going to do as I say?"

"Yes. I'll do whatever you tell me to, sunbae."

"In that case…"

She glanced down, caught sight of the problem, and let out a little snort of laughter.

"Since I'm your noona, I'll drop the formalities?"

Coy. Deliberately, foxily coy — like the kind of popular senior girl in college who could hollow out a freshman with nothing but a smile.

"You can call me noona today too. No — you will call me noona."

With the matter of titles settled, Jiwoo grinned, wide and pleased, and the hand on my thigh began to creep, little by little, toward my cock.

She tapped it with a fingertip. Confirmed it was standing at full attention. Then she pressed down properly, testing just how hard it was.

I figured that was as far as she'd go.

I figured wrong. She reached for the zipper of my slacks, like she intended to take it out entirely.

"You're doing this now? Shouldn't we wash up fi—"

"Stay still."

"……"

She shut me up in a voice that was more tease than command, then drew the zipper down in one long pull. Her hand slipped inside, tugged my underwear down, and my cock sprang free on its own — swollen, heavy, and already standing.

"What? Why are you already hard?"

"Well, sunbae— I mean. Because noona is pretty."

I told her the truth, exactly as it was, and she grinned again, clearly pleased. Then a flicker of consideration crossed her face.

"…Wanna shower together?"