Handjob Parlor Eden

Ha... fuck... not a single normal fucking bastard among these bitches or bastards.

I was one to talk, sure, but the second I finally got a seat and sat down, the guy was just staring at girl-group photos. A sigh slipped out of me on its own.

I quietly moved over to the far end of the counter, crossed one leg, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.

I was sucking it down nicely when the buzzer went off again—beep. Just once this time.

I reflexively checked the CCTV. Inside the elevator some old hag was waiting with something balanced on her head.

The glasses-wearing bastard shot me a look.

Fucking prick’s already establishing the pecking order.

I found the round button the glasses shithead had pressed earlier, walked over, and hit it.

The elevator doors opened and the old woman, carrying a round tray covered in newspaper on her head like she’d done it a thousand times, set it down on the huge table in front of the counter and vanished just as fast.

It was clearly a jeyuk jeongsik set meal.

I thought about going straight over and demolishing it, but held back for now.

“Go ahead and eat.”

“Yes.”

The fact that he didn’t even tack on “hyungnim” was basically him declaring I was his errand boy.

I wanted nothing more than to smash the glasses bastard’s skull and rain down dual curses right then and there, but I had to face reality and swallow it.

I walked over, parked my ass on the sofa next to the giant table, and happily wolfed down the arrived jeyuk jeongsik.

While I was eating, the buzzer went off several more times.

Each time, the glasses bastard glanced my way and pressed the round button himself.

Even a fucking dog doesn’t get bothered while it’s eating—what’s your problem?

Two more girls came crawling in.

Probably clocking in for their shifts.

Since I was sitting on the sofa with my back to the elevator, I unfortunately didn’t get to scan their faces.

Next time I ate, I decided, I’d sit on the sofa right by the hallway entrance so I could get a proper look.

“When you’re done eating, just leave the tray at the first-floor entrance.”

“Yes.”

Without a word of complaint I picked up the empty tray I’d cleaned out, rode the elevator down, and left it at the building entrance on the first floor.

I needed another smoke anyway.

With the face of a man who’d already lived his whole life, I pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between my lips, and quietly lit it.

I was mid-drag, enjoying it, when a woman approached the building.

Compared to the ponytail bitch from earlier, this one had soft light-brown long wavy hair and was wearing a white open-shoulder blouse that left her collarbones fully exposed—pretty fucking sleek style. She brushed past me and went inside.

Under the pale-pink miniskirt, her long slender legs radiated a lewd, musky heat that scrambled my eyeballs.

Her face looked sharp overall, but it still fell into the pretty category.

That bitch looks pretty tasty too. Not quite as good as the ponytail one earlier, but still.

Watching her take the elevator, the odds were high she was one of the whores working at our place.

I’d find out once I went back up.

I finished the cigarette, rode the elevator back up, and returned to the counter.

The glasses bastard was staring holes through an A4 sheet and scribbling something furiously.

“This is the count ledger. I’ll explain it, so listen carefully.”

“Yes.”

The glasses bastard pointed at the A4 and turned into an explanation machine, motor running full speed in his mouth for a long stretch.

In short: the girls’ stage names were written in a row on the first line in the order they clocked in. When a reservation came in, unless the customer specifically requested someone, you stuffed them in by clock-in order.

He also taught me how to mark reservation times and whether it was a designated request or not.

Even a middle-school dropout with a bird brain wouldn’t have any trouble with it.

Four stage names were already written on the count ledger: Hyojin, Dambi, Eun-ha, Nabi—in that order.

Matching faces, three girls were confirmed, and if the long-wave bitch I’d just run into downstairs had come up here, that made exactly four.

I locked Hyojin’s stage name into my head first.

She looked young and, for now, was the tastiest-looking cunt of the bunch, so she made a solid target.

The buzzer went off again—beep.

I checked the CCTV. Some cock was riding up.

Didn’t look like the knife-scarred bastard or Dongpal hyungnim.

But the glasses bastard didn’t look at me.

He picked up the cordless phone, glanced back and forth between it and the CCTV, and the buzzer sounded once more.

Again he completely ignored me.

Then he seemed to search for something on the cordless and dialed somewhere.

The cock on the CCTV answered his phone.

“Boss, did you make an eight o’clock reservation?”

From the glasses bastard’s words, it was clearly a customer.

A moment later he hung up and finally looked my way.

I quickly stepped over, pressed the round button, and the elevator doors opened right after.

“This way, boss.”

The glasses bastard smoothly greeted the customer who’d crawled in and guided him to the first room down the hallway.

Then he came back to the counter, picked up the landline, and dialed 0.

Riiing… riiing…

The phone rang loud enough that the waiting room for the girls had to be right across the wall from the counter.

“Hyojin-ssi, room two.”

Whether he got an answer or not, the glasses bastard said his piece, hung up the landline, and parked his ass back in the counter chair.

About ten minutes later, the clack of heels echoed from the hallway, suddenly cut off, then came two knocks on a door followed by the sound of it opening and closing.

That had to be Hyojin going in to work the room.

The glasses bastard must have heard it too; he stopped what he was doing and stood up.

He grabbed a ballpoint pen and wrote “8:00” under Hyojin’s name on the A4.

Seemed like he was checking the time. To the left of the time he’d written the number 1.

Hyojin, first customer, 8:00.

Something like that, I figured.

The glasses bastard and I zipped our mouths shut again and spent more time in silence.

Fuck, this isn’t some silent prayer session—this is fucking miserable. My legs are killing me too.

That was the truth.

While the glasses bastard who looked younger than me sat in the counter chair sucking honey, I was standing ramrod straight like a borrowed barley sack, my 190-centimeter bulk just killing time.

I never imagined that simply standing could be this hard.

You might think I could just flop onto the sofa in front of the counter, but on my first day of work, flipping off the senior and parking my ass on the sofa was realistically impossible.

My position at the handjob parlor Eden was brand-new Junior Night Manager, after all.

On top of that, the glasses bastard focused only on his own work whether I stood or not.

I was fretting over what to do when the cordless phone’s ringtone shattered the silence wrapping the counter.

The glasses bastard picked it up, glanced at it, then turned his eyes back to the computer monitor.

Without thinking I followed his gaze. He seemed to be accessing some site, then opened a small window, typed numbers, and hit Enter.

The small window spat out a string of numbers that overlapped with what he’d just entered. He glanced at the cordless again, then back at the monitor, scribbling numbers diligently.

Apparently he was typing the phone number from the cordless into the small window and searching it.

Once he entered everything after the 010, a single matching number came up, and only then did the glasses bastard press the cordless button and start talking.

“Yes, boss.”

While talking he moved the mouse cursor over the number in the small window and clicked. A memo packed with tiny writing appeared on the monitor next to the phone number.

The memo was crammed with stuff that was hard to make sense of.

Probably stage names and dates and the like.

But fuck, who the hell was this Kkotnim bitch that this bastard had only ever seen her cunt over and over?

Seeing “Jimyeong” written next to her, it looked like he’d completely ignored every other pussy and only ever come to see that fucking Kkotnim.

None of the cunts who’d clocked in today used the stage name Kkotnim.

I started thinking I might have to revise my plan of fucking Hyojin first.

“Kkotnim hasn’t clocked in today, boss.”

Sure enough, the cock who’d called to book started by asking for Kkotnim.

“How about Nabi, boss?”

While talking, the glasses bastard seemed to carefully study the memo on the monitor, then slowly stood, looked at the A4, and spoke.

Earlier he said we stuff them in by clock-in order, fucking bastard.

He was spouting something completely different from the bullshit he’d fed me when explaining the A4.

By pure clock-in order, the next bitch after Hyojin was Dambi, so of course the reservation should have gone to Dambi first.

But the glasses bastard skipped everyone and recommended Nabi, who’d clocked in last.

“Yes, the size is fine, boss. Yes~ yes~ nine o’clock? Got it, boss~”

After hanging up, the glasses bastard opened the drawer under the computer desk, pulled out a memo pad, and wrote something with a ballpoint pen.

Reservation time, the incoming phone number, and the stage name of the girl going in.

My head suddenly got complicated.

Because right in front of my eyes the glasses bastard had done something completely different from what he’d taught me earlier.

I couldn’t hold back the curiosity.

“Can I ask something?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Earlier you taught me we take reservations in the order they clock in, but Nabi clocked in last. I don’t get it.”

“Ah~ ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠normally what I explained earlier is correct, but…”

The glasses bastard turned into an explanation machine again, motor running full speed for a long stretch.

The proper way was to take reservations by clock-in order, but for the customer just now, when he punched the number into the monitor and saw the memo, it was a Jimyeong regular for Kkotnim. She hadn’t clocked in, so pass. He’d already seen Hyojin and Eun-ha, so pass. The remaining girls were Dambi and Nabi, and if the guy’s taste was the type that went for Kkotnim Jimyeong, Nabi was closest to Kkotnim’s style, so he’d used his own discretion and ignored clock-in order—that was the bullshit.

He added that even though he’d made a mess of the order from the first booking, stuffing reservations in by clock-in order was an ironclad unwritten rule that had to be kept, and as long as the total counts matched at closing, it was fine.

Simply put: base the girls’ bookings on clock-in order as much as possible, but if unavoidable you could skip the order and book someone else—just make sure the order was straightened out by closing.

You had to match the total counts excluding Jimyeong. Today Hyojin, Dambi, Eun-ha, Nabi had clocked in that order, so at closing the totals excluding Jimyeong for Dambi, Eun-ha, and Nabi couldn’t surpass Hyojin’s, and Eun-ha and Nabi’s totals couldn’t surpass Dambi’s.

After listening to all the glasses bastard’s bullshit, my head started to hurt.

There were a fuckton more things to consider than I’d expected.

With a middle-school dropout bird brain, it didn’t look like something I’d learn in a day or two.

But I couldn’t give up.

“It’s complicated to learn on day one, but once you do it you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, it does seem that way.”

“You haven’t greeted the girls yet, right?”

“No.”

“It’s going to get busy soon, so go say hello while it’s quiet.”

“That would probably make the work smoother.”

“Yeah. You need to know the girls’ features too so booking is easier.”

The glasses bastard stood and led the way down the hallway.

My head still ached from cramming so much in, but the thrill of finally meeting the shop girls properly sent endorphins flowing and I settled down.

I followed the glasses bastard into the hallway. There was a passage on the right that seemed to lead to the girls’ waiting room.

At the end of the passage was a kitchen, and inside the wide-open room the girls were each absorbed in their own things.

The walls of the waiting room, ceiling excluded, were completely covered in large mirrors.

“This is the new manager starting today.”

The glasses bastard quietly addressed the girls.

In that instant the bitch sprawled out looking at her phone, the bitch doing her makeup in the big mirror, and the bitch watching TV—three cunts total—all turned their heads at once to look at me and the glasses bastard.

“You’re huge. How tall are you?”

The one watching TV slowly stood and spoke to me.

First time seeing her; probably one of the girls who’d clocked in while I was eating the jeyuk jeongsik.

She looked pretty tall and had a seriously voluptuous body.

The tits straining to burst through her loose short-sleeve T-shirt looked like C-cup or bigger at a glance.

Her face had some years on it, but it was decent enough to look at.

Her impression wasn’t great.

The most fucking annoying part was that the bitch was wearing sweatpants and a short-sleeve tee.

She’d change into her floor outfit when she went to take a customer, sure, but right now all I saw in front of me was a bitch in sweatpants.

“One-ninety.”

“Wow~ about the same as the big manager.”

She was probably referring to Dongpal hyungnim.

“Hyungnim seemed bigger, though?”

The TV-watching bitch locked eyes with me and kept coming closer until she stopped at a distance where our bodies almost touched.

Fuck, this bitch is hot—I like it.

One more step and those massive tits would have pressed against me.

Scanning her up close again: height looked over 170, long hair with a reddish tint and a light wave, thick lips that looked like they’d suck cock well, tits that were more than C-cup and ready to explode any second, long well-shaped legs, and an ass that looked plenty big for her frame.

My cock automatically tensed up.

The TV-watching bitch turned around and blatantly showed off her firm ass right in front of my eyes.

“How’s this?”

Having spun around in front of me, she looked toward the other two cunts and raised her right arm, palm flat above her own head.

Meaning she wanted them to check how much taller the new manager was than her.

My cock, reacting to the bitch’s combat-ready body, swelled and hardened against my will, and the tip of the glans, ready to punch through my pants, lightly brushed her ass.

Ah… fucking bitch.

I’d been killing time standing around, and suddenly I was making skin contact with my cock against the ass of a cunt with a killer body.

Luckily the bitch didn’t seem to notice; she just kept looking at the other two without any reaction.

Even in sweatpants, her ass up close looked as firm and big as her tits.

The urge surged to strip off the sweatpants and panties right then, bend her over, and ram my about-to-burst cock into her from behind.

“Manager’s a full head taller.”

The one sprawled out fiddling with her phone answered.

The bitch who looked barely past twenty still had baby fat; her face was round and plump.

She’d piled on the makeup, but it didn’t quite suit her face yet and looked a bit floaty.

Her skin was fair, and while she wasn’t quite at the level you’d call a beauty, she was the kind of ordinary girl you see every five seconds on the street.

What caught my eye most were her solid thighs. The lower body showing under her shorts looked, at a glance, like it would taste fucking amazing.

Overall plump—exactly the body type I liked.

In short, a body perfect for pounding hard.

The one looking in the mirror turned her gaze back and focused on her makeup again without a single word.

As expected, it was the tasty-looking cunt I’d seen while smoking at the first-floor entrance earlier.

Probably the one who’d clocked in last, using the stage name Nabi.

“This one’s Dambi, and the one looking in the mirror is Nabi-ssi.”

The glasses bastard blurted it out.

“I’m Eun-ha~”

The sprawled-out bitch with the solid thighs was named Eun-ha.

“...”

The one called Nabi, still doing her makeup in the mirror, kept her mouth zipped and didn’t say a word.

At a glance she seemed like the cool, silent type of bitch.

“What about you, manager?”

“Ah, just call me Jin-sik.”

Dambi kept talking while still staring into my eyes from breath-close distance.

“I’ll just call you Manager~”

“Sure, call me whatever’s comfortable.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Oh, same age as me, hehe…”

“I thought you were younger, so I’m a bit surprised we’re the same age.”

Actually she looked older than me. I was the one who’d been surprised when she claimed we were the same age.

“Where do you live?”

“Around here.”

The bitch had suddenly switched from height talk to a full background check, so I deliberately answered vaguely.

A silent protest that we weren’t that close yet.

“I’ll be at the counter, so take your time chatting. Nabi-ssi, you have a nine o’clock reservation.”

“Yes…”

Nabi, still fixing her makeup in the mirror, answered in a voice that barely crawled out, and the glasses bastard turned and left the waiting room before I could say anything.

“Can we drop the formal speech?”

Dambi shoved her head right up to my ear and whispered.

“Isn’t it a bit early?”

“Ah, right after meeting, dropping it feels weird? Okay, hehe…”

I didn’t mind Dambi coming on strong, but she and I had only been talking for about a minute.

Even if we were the same age, there was still an order to things, wasn’t there?

Of course, when making a joj-jib I preferred the fuck-first, date-later approach, but still.

Dambi seemed determined; she parked her ass on the door threshold and quietly kept talking.

Then she gestured and patted the empty spot on the threshold next to her, telling me to sit.

I walked over and deliberately left some distance as I sat beside Dambi.

“Want some coffee?”

“I’d love some.”

“Mix? Americano?”

“Americano, please.”

Dambi stood, dashed into the waiting room at lightning speed, opened the fridge, pulled out a bottled commercial Americano, handed it to me, and sat back down.

“It’s good.”

“Nice, right? I bought these.”

“Yeah, I’ll enjoy it.”

“Looking forward to working with you, Manager.”

“Same here, looking forward to it.”

For a while Dambi and I chatted about trivial things mixed with a bit of background check, losing track of time.

As if only Dambi and I existed in the waiting room, Eun-ha and Nabi didn’t say a word and focused on their own things.

Dambi seemed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠joined Eden not long ago.

Her previous place had been too far from home—round-trip cab fare was fifty thousand won, so nothing was left over. That was the reason.

The time wasted commuting was another big factor.

She added that she wanted to make a lot of money.

She said she wanted to escape this life as soon as possible and open a proper shop of her own.

The way her eyes sparkled while talking, it felt like she was asking me for a little help.

But I was just the brand-new Junior Night Manager at a handjob parlor.

I could barely keep my own mouth fed—how the hell was I supposed to help her?

Suddenly the door opened with a sound, and a seductive woman’s voice mixed with a deep, laughter-filled middle-aged man’s voice hit my ears so hard I could tell without looking that he was in a great mood.

Hyojin must have been coming out after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠working the room.

“Take care, oppa~”

“Yeah~ good work.”

Something got patted a couple times, and the clack of heels approached.

I heard the glasses bastard’s voice, then the elevator doors opening, and only the heel sounds were left in my ears.

Right after, a woman in a black mini dress with a deep plunge that fully showed her tits and a hint of panty came into view.

It was Hyojin.

She locked eyes with me but acted like she hadn’t seen me, walked past me and Dambi, irritably tossed a rolled towel into the big basket next to the washing machine in the kitchen sink corner, then pulled a toothbrush from the kitchen sink, squeezed out a thick blob of toothpaste, and started brushing like a madwoman.

A familiar smell stabbed my nose.

A smell that hadn’t existed until just now.

It was the smell of cock juice.