Lee XX's Confession 5
I can still picture my first day of work as clearly as if it were yesterday.
Worried about me more than he let on, Cheol-hwan had been blowing up my phone with messages since first thing that morning.
I pretended otherwise, but I was just as nervous as he was. The thought of seeing Auntie again after so long had me pouring real effort into how I looked. I bought a decent-looking suit set at a nearby outlet, picked up a pair of height-boosting dress shoes, and the day before even splurged at a salon for a pomade cut. Once I was fully put together, I almost looked like a National Assembly aide at a glance. Whatever else I was, I had definitely shaken off the military-brat look for good.
Come to think of it, I was buzzing as if I were headed to a blind date instead of my first day of work. Even I found it so ridiculous that a snort of laughter slipped out. Fussing over my appearance had put me behind schedule, so I scrambled onto the subway and headed for Cheol-hwan's place. Auntie's car was already parked out front in the upscale residential neighborhood. Following the instructions Cheol-hwan had given me ahead of time, I waited by the car for her to come out.
"Oh my, Young-jun. It's been so long."
The moment her voice reached me from behind, a current seemed to jolt through my entire body. I spun around in a hurry and bowed my head in greeting.
"It's been a while, Auntie. Have you been well?"
"Yes. It really has been a long time."
She hadn't changed much at all. A two-piece suit that showed off the curves of her figure, coffee-colored stockings, and high heels. There wasn't a trace of the years on her face—if anything, she almost looked younger. Everything Cheol-hwan had said about her pouring enormous money and time into her appearance was clearly no lie. Her figure, especially, seemed even better than before. He'd mentioned she never skipped yoga or Pilates no matter how busy she got, and a woman who took care of herself really did look different. Or maybe it was that maturity and sensuality had only grown richer with age. Just looking at her was enough to make my cock stiffen with a hard surge of blood.
"Young-jun, you look ready to get married. Our Cheol-hwan still seems like a baby. Is it because you went to the military?"
She looked me up and down with surprised eyes. The little kid she'd known since childhood had suddenly shown up as a man, and she clearly couldn't quite believe it.
"Thank you for giving me the chance to work. I'll be in your care."
"Oh, no—I should be the one asking. Thank you for helping me out."
"Not at all. I'm the one who should be grateful. I'm going to work really hard, Auntie. Ah—no. CEO."
"CEO? Hohoho. You can just keep calling me Auntie."
"No. When we're working, we should keep personal and professional separate. From now on, during business hours, I'll call you CEO."
"Hohoho. Our Young-jun really has grown up. Do whatever's comfortable."
"Yes, CEO."
"Shall we get going, then?"
"Yes, ma'am!!"
And that was how my first day as Auntie's personal chauffeur began. Five days a week, nine in the morning to six in the evening. Between driving and running errands, the mountain of work that came with being a personal driver left me with barely a free moment—but I don't think I ever once thought of it as hard. Just being able to spend most of every day with Auntie was reward enough for everything.
Separately, watching Auntie's daily life from up close showed me just how relentlessly busy she was. Looking at her, I finally understood that successful people always have their reasons. She lived her days broken down to the minute. Nonstop meetings with company executives, client meetings, entertaining business partners, and, in whatever scraps of time remained, her personal upkeep. She was living days so packed that even ten bodies wouldn't have been enough.
That day, too, was probably one of those that rushed past in a blur. We were hurrying to a client meeting when her voice suddenly floated up from the back seat.
"Oh no. What am I going to do?"
"What's wrong?"
"There's a run in my stockings."
I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw her with her legs crossed, inspecting the calf of her stockinged leg. Just as she'd said, a long run had opened up along the back of her calf.
"What should I do? This is an important meeting."
"Want me to run to a convenience store nearby and grab a pair?"
"Would you? Sorry—Auntie's making you do all sorts of things."
She had nothing to apologize for. Having her sit in the back seat every day with those stockinged legs crossed was the only reason driving never got boring. That was why I always tilted the rearview mirror just a little downward on purpose, so I could take in her whole body.
"I'll be right back."
I parked in front of a nearby convenience store and hurried inside. It was the first time I'd ever gone into a convenience store to buy women's stockings, but instead of feeling embarrassed I was almost excited. The idea that Auntie would put on a pair I chose was strangely thrilling. The colors she liked were coffee or nude. I was carefully scanning the display when I found a regular coffee-colored pair and started to reach for them—then stopped. On the very bottom shelf, something else had caught my eye. After a brief moment of hesitation, I grabbed that pair instead and headed for the register.
Once I'd paid, I hurried back to the car and handed her the stockings.
"Huh?"
Just as expected, she looked a little flustered when she saw what I'd bought. Of course she did—I'd handed her a pair of glossy black stockings with a sleek sheen. The kind she would never normally wear. A pair chosen entirely according to my own tastes. Just the thought of making her put on stockings I'd picked out was enough to make my cock start throbbing hard. Playing dumb, I spoke to her as she hesitated with them in her hands.
"Sorry. That was all they had at the convenience store."
"Really? Hmm..."
"If you don't like them, I can go get something else."
"Hmm... No, we don't have time. I'll just wear them."
When everything went according to plan and she was about to put on the stockings I wanted, the excitement nearly drove me out of my mind. Eager to see her in the glossy black ones as soon as possible, I started to open the door and step out—to give her space so she could change comfortably in the back seat. But then she looked at me oddly and spoke.
"Where are you going?"
"Sorry? I was just going to step outside for a bit. Aren't you changing in the car?"
"Pfft. Between us? Just start driving. We don't have time."
To my surprise, she intended to change her stockings right there with me still in the car, as if it were nothing. The unexpected situation made me cheer inside.
"Yes. I'll get us moving, then."
I started the car, carefully hiding how pleased I was. Of course every nerve I had was fixed on Auntie in the back seat. And thanks to the rearview mirror angle I'd adjusted so carefully in advance, I could steal a full look at her changing her stockings without any trouble.
She hiked her skirt all the way up to her waist with complete composure and began peeling off the pantyhose she was wearing. In the process, the line of her hips, her ass, and her thighs were all laid bare. Even sitting down, there wasn't a single fold of belly fat on that body. I swallowed dryly and kept glancing into the rearview mirror for all I was worth.
Once she'd completely stripped off the coffee-colored pantyhose, she slipped one toe into the glossy black pair I'd bought and carefully began to draw them up. The snug nylon of the black stockings slowly clamped around her smooth calves and firm thighs. She crossed one leg and then the other as she worked, changing them with real skill. Her hands were so quick that in the blink of an eye she had finished and was already tugging her skirt back down over her thighs. Do all women change stockings that fast? The time I got to watch had been shorter than I'd hoped, and I couldn't help feeling disappointed.
Sitting at an angle, she stretched her legs a little forward for a final check of her lines. Her calves and thighs, wrapped in the glossy black stockings, gleamed with a wet-looking sheen. They looked so taut and plump that a single light touch of a finger might make them burst. My mouth watered on its own, aching to lick and suck them right then and there. Auntie seemed to like the glossy black pair, which she was trying for the first time; she smiled faintly. I spent the whole time staring into the rearview mirror with my mouth hanging open.
That was when it happened. She suddenly lifted her eyes and looked straight into the mirror. Our gazes met, and I jerked mine away in a panic. Seeing that, she gave a little snort of laughter and spoke.
"Young-jun."
"Yes??"
"If you stare that openly, Auntie gets really embarrassed."
Caught peeping at her—my face went red up to the ears as I floundered.
"Pfft. What good does staring at Auntie's legs do you? There's nothing to look at."
"Ah... that is... I-I'm sorry."
Only then did I understand why she had changed her stockings so fast. My blatant staring had made her uncomfortable, so she'd gotten them on as quickly as she could. Watching me sweat and panic, she looked at me as if she found me cute and went on.
"Still, thank you, our Young-jun."
"Sorry?"
"You were looking because Auntie is pretty, right? Aren't you?"
"Huh?? W-well, yes..."
"So I'm grateful. The older a woman gets, the harder it is to get that kind of look from a man. Aigoo, now that I've said it out loud I sound like such an old lady, don't I?"
"N-no. Auntie—no, CEO, you're really beautiful."
"Really?"
"Yes. Of all the women I've ever seen, you're the prettiest, CEO."
"Our Young-jun is good at adulting. Knows how to keep his superior happy."
"It's not like that... I mean it! CEO!"
"Hohoho. I might have to give our Young-jun a bonus."
When I put on a little performance for her, she laughed like a girl. Still—thanking me for secretly ogling her body. Normally, irritation or anger would have been the natural response. I couldn't decide whether she was reacting that way simply because I was her son's friend, or whether, just as she'd said, she was starved for a man's gaze. Was Auntie lonely, maybe? The thought made me snort with laughter the second it formed. A diligent, high-achieving son. A husband who made good money and was kind. The idea that a woman living a life everyone would envy might be lonely—that was ridiculous.
While I was lost in those scattered thoughts, we arrived at the meeting place before I knew it. I dropped her at the building entrance and, as always, parked in the lot and waited. Then, thinking I might as well clean the inside of the car a little, I took the cleaning supplies from the trunk and opened the back seat. In that moment, something lying on the floor mat under the seat caught my eye. I carefully picked it up with my fingers.
It was the coffee-colored pantyhose Auntie had been wearing.