Park XX's Confession 13
Manager Park stared for a long while at the soaked crotch of my wife's leggings, his eyes boring into that dark, wet patch without a blink.
She was lying face-down with her hips tilted just slightly upward—a pose she never could have held if she had truly been asleep. It was obvious she meant to give him a clearer view of that dampened slit through the fabric.
He swallowed dryly and glanced once toward the master bedroom where I was hiding. Then he checked something on the phone in his hand. My guess was that he was confirming the message he had sent me earlier—the one claiming he was heading home.
Once he saw that the alibi was safely delivered, Manager Park slowly peeled off his outer jacket again. With that cover story in place, he must have felt certain that whatever he did to my wife from this moment on would be a perfect crime.
Just as I expected, he aimed his phone at her rear and started filming. He focused especially hard on the slick, dark stain spreading across the crotch of her leggings. In the entire history of his secret filming, he had probably never been able to shoot so freely, so unhurriedly.
He crouched, stood, shifted angles—working with the feverish concentration of a photographer possessed by his art. What mattered most, though, was my wife's reaction to being filmed.
She knew perfectly well that Manager Park was photographing her body and her wet pussy, yet she kept her hips raised in that inviting tilt. At times she even twisted her pelvis a fraction so the curves of her ass would catch the light more provocatively.
Every time she struck a more explicit pose, he moved around her, pressing the camera in close to every inch of her. She looked completely shameless, like some cheap outdoor model with no hesitation about putting her body on display for the lens.
After a long stretch of filming her from behind, Manager Park suddenly lowered the phone and simply stared down at her. It was clear he had taken enough of her rear and now wanted the front. But he could hardly just roll a sleeping woman onto her back without reason.
The Manager Park I knew was nothing like Assistant Manager Oh; he was not the sort of man who could casually put his hands on my wife's body. Unlike Oh's bold nature, Park had always been a little timid.
True to form, he fretted in place, unable to invent a decent excuse, and began chewing at his nails. His dilemma did not last long, however. My sharp-eyed wife had already read his character perfectly.
“Mmngh…”
All at once she rolled onto her back with a sleepy little moan, the motion so natural it looked accidental. The sudden movement froze Manager Park solid where he stood, as if he had turned to ice.
To put him at ease she immediately began breathing deeply through her nose again, snoring softly, pouring every ounce of effort into looking utterly unconscious. Thanks to her performance he managed to calm himself and raise the phone once more.
Her face was flushed a warm pink. Even lying flat, her full breasts kept their proud, rounded shape, and she presented them openly for him. Manager Park went right back to filming with fresh enthusiasm—and again he zeroed in on the wet crotch of her leggings.
Perhaps she wanted the shots to look even dirtier; she casually bent her knees outward into an M-shape. He shoved the camera right between her thighs so that the soaked outline of her pussy filled the foreground while her heavy breasts rose soft and full in the background—exactly the composition you see in every amateur porn video.
He kept shooting after that, thoroughly enjoying himself. The problem came next.
Once he had filmed to his heart's content, Manager Park simply stood there with a greasy little smile, reviewing the footage over and over. He did nothing else to her. At most he licked his lips while glancing back and forth between the video and her sleeping face.
Watching that pathetic display, I wanted to throw open the bedroom door and scream at him. At least pull your cock out and jerk off, you useless bastard!
What had been so easy for Assistant Manager Oh seemed impossibly hard for Manager Park. The sheer frustration of watching him nearly drove me insane. I was just starting to despair over the man who couldn't even take what was being handed to him on a platter when, once again, my wife made the first move.
“Hnn…”
She let out a soft, almost moaning sound and rolled onto her side. Then, as if something itched in her sleep, she began scratching herself here and there with one small hand. At first I thought a mosquito might have bitten her—but that was not it.
The pale little hand that had been scratching near her arm drifted, almost casually, toward her hip. After a few idle scrapes over the leggings, her fingers slipped straight inside the waistband.
Once under the fabric, her hand no longer looked like it was scratching. She was kneading her own ass slowly, deliberately—exactly the way a woman warms herself up before she starts to masturbate.
Manager Park stood with his mouth hanging open, completely at a loss. Any man would have been stunned: right in front of him a woman had shoved her hand into her leggings and was openly massaging her own buttocks.
She caressed both cheeks in turn, stroking and squeezing them with lazy affection. The longer she did it, the wetter the crotch of her leggings became. You could actually see the fabric darkening as more of her juices soaked through.
One thing must be made clear: she never reached farther to touch her clit or finger herself. She simply kept her legging-clad ass thrust out toward Manager Park while she fondled it with her own hands. And still the slick fluids poured out of her. In that moment she was nothing more than a bitch in heat.
Manager Park looked like he was frantically trying to decide how to handle the unbelievable scene unfolding before his eyes. After a long hesitation he slowly raised the phone again. I felt a fresh wave of disappointment, thinking he was only going to film some more—until he stared blankly at the device, then gently set it down on the living-room floor.
Quietly he took off the jacket he was still wearing. My wife kept kneading her own ass, deliberately goading him. He drew a long, careful breath, then slipped open his belt buckle and shoved his dress pants down. In seconds he stood there in nothing but his underwear, staring down at her.
Ah, so he's finally going to jerk off, I thought.
But then he stripped the underwear off as well.
I was surprised he even had that much boldness in him. What shocked me far more, though, was the size of the fully erect cock that sprang free. It was a rare monster—easily as thick and long as the black cocks you only ever see in Western porn.
The moment that massive thing appeared, it was as if the very air in the living room changed. My wife, who had been steadily massaging her ass, suddenly went still. That was the instinct of a female who has just caught the scent of a powerful male.
After a brief pause her hand started moving again, squeezing and rolling her cheeks once more. As if that were the signal he had been waiting for, Manager Park began to close the distance between them.
The nearer he came, the more finely her fingers trembled against her own flesh. Even while pretending to sleep she could not completely hide the shaking of her nerves.
He stepped in until his knees nearly brushed her hips. Startled by how close he had gotten, she stopped caressing herself. Manager Park simply stood there looking down at her face. She kept her eyes tightly shut, giving the performance of her life as a deep sleeper.
After staring at her for a long moment he began to stroke his cock slowly. Finally, I thought, he's going to finish himself off.
And then—
Huh?
Without warning he stretched out behind her and pressed his body flush against her back, spooning her tightly. In an instant the two of them were locked in a side-lying position. I had been certain he would only masturbate; the sudden move left me speechless.
What the hell is he trying to do?
The next second Manager Park simply grabbed the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down with brutal force. The fabric skidded to her mid-thighs in one rough pull. Her bare ass and the glistening, swollen lips of her pussy were completely exposed.
My wife went rigid as if she had been electrocuted. Because she had been pretending to sleep all this time, she could neither protest nor move. She had been thoroughly caught in her own trap—and there was no one left who could help her.
What stunned me even more was what Manager Park did next. Without a single second of foreplay he simply lined up that enormous cock and drove it straight into her cunt in one savage thrust.
“Hhk—!”
A strangled, scream-like moan tore out of her as that massive thing forced its way inside. It was only natural; she had taken a cock that size with no warning and no preparation at all.