The Hand That Lingers
I really am hopeless. Always clinging to him. Every single day. How could I even dream of meeting Samchon? When all I have to do is see him in real life. Just stay by his side. Feel him right next to me. Why go through the trouble when the dream barely even feels real anyway? When I wake up, all that's left is this faint, aching regret.
"But... in a dream, I can do whatever I want."
In reality, Samchon is bound by so many restrictions. The eyes of the world. Our own consciences. We're already struggling just to love each other actively, and yet everything around us keeps clawing at us, making us desperate. In a dream, though, I can show him my feelings as boldly as I like and no one can say a word. I can kiss him all I want, throw myself into his arms, and no one would point a finger. It's all up to me. I can like him however I want. Love him however I want.
Maybe that's why waking up from a dream about him always leaves me feeling even more disappointed. In the dream, we could love each other freely. Samchon didn't have to hide how much he wanted me. But the moment I open my eyes, everything vanishes like a mirage. All that's left is regret—so much of it that I just lie there stupidly, trying to fall back asleep.
Yet the drowsiness keeps fading, and wakefulness creeps in closer. The perfect ending to the dream slips away. In the end, I comfort myself by nuzzling against his chest while still wrapped in his arms. Neither of us has gotten up yet, after all. I just press myself closer to him a little longer. Until morning finds us, I'll stay glued to him and try to forget that impatient dream. Because I have something better than any dream right here—Samchon himself. I don't need to feel regret when I can touch and feel him for real.
But then...
"Huh? What?"
"How the hell do you even sleep like this?"
Samchon's voice comes from right beside my head. With my eyes squeezed shut and my body pressed against him, he must still think I'm asleep. Probably because my clothes had ridden up a little. Of course, I wouldn't know my own sleeping habits. How could anyone know how they look while unconscious?
But then it hits me all at once, heat flooding my face as I realize exactly what I must have done before falling asleep. Lying next to Samchon with my top pulled up. Pulling out my breasts right beside him. Calling his name, imagining him touching me. Him forcing himself on me... tormenting me... while I breathed in his scent... pictured him... and touched my own nipples, whispering his name over and over...
"He... he definitely won't notice, right?"
After touching myself, I'd fixed my clothes properly. I'm not that careless. There's no way I would've just passed out after doing something so risky right next to him. My clothes were back in place. My panties... well, they were soaked, so I couldn't change them, but surely the sheets weren't wet. It couldn't have been that bad... could it?
Uncertainty makes me panic. What if there's some kind of smell coming from me? This is all new to me. Having someone I like. Touching myself beside that sleeping person, breathing in his scent, imagining him. Getting so worked up that the desire overwhelmed me. It's all happening for the first time, so I'm filled with nothing but worry.
I should've gotten up afterward and taken a shower at least. Or changed my clothes, even. If Samchon thinks his niece smells strange... I really wouldn't know what to do.
So I just keep pretending to sleep. Still right in front of him. I'll check everything properly once he leaves later. I just have to keep acting like I'm in dreamland a little longer.
But then...
"Huh...?"
Suddenly, there's a strange sensation on my stomach. True to his kind nature, Samchon had pulled my clothes back down so I wouldn't catch a cold. But then... his hand starts moving.
"......"
Stroke. Stroke. He runs his palm over my stomach, right on top of my clothes.
This... this isn't something I've ever imagined. If he keeps doing this, there's no way I can stay still...
It isn't the first time Samchon's hands have touched me. He's patted my head before. Caressed my cheek. I've even licked his fingers. We've kissed—really kissed, the kind that leaves your mind blank. We did that as a gift for my twentieth birthday. Even now, just thinking about it makes me dizzy. But this is different.
"This... this is strange. It's strange, Samchon."
Stroking my stomach feels like cheating. This place has never been touched before. And he thinks I'm asleep. How could he... do something like this? What if I wake up? Things between us would become so awkward.
"Really... I... haah... haah... You can't. If you're going to touch me like this... then just wake me up and do it properly."
I don't mind him touching me. But doing something this dangerous... So Samchon really can't hold himself back either. He's a man too. The fact that he wants me is painfully clear now. Always acting so good, pretending to protect his niece, playing innocent—and now look at him. He can't control himself either, just like me. We're both willing to do things that could ruin everything just to ease the desire we feel for each other.
What if, on nights when I sleep deeply, he's always been touching me like this? If that's true, then... I don't need to feel guilty about what I've done beside his sleeping body either. In fact, maybe I could even moan loudly enough to wake him. After all, he's guilty too. Touching his niece is a far greater sin than a niece touching herself while thinking of him.
"Really... my stomach hasn't gotten flabby, has it? I don't have much fat there, but... just in case."
Soon enough, that familiar, dizzying heat floods my mind again. Last night, when I'd touched myself in secret, it hadn't felt anything like this. This is on another level—sharp, overwhelming, addictive.
"If he only touches me over my clothes... maybe Samchon won't feel too disappointed..."
I keep my breathing steady and quiet, curling up like I'm still fast asleep. I can't let him notice anything strange. If he finds out, everything will become weird. He'll panic, apologize, and swear he'll never do it again. He might even stop sleeping beside me altogether, stop holding me before bed. I have to suppress the growing heat somehow. Samchon can touch me, but I have to stay still. I can't let him know I'm awake. No matter how good his hands feel, I absolutely cannot get wet.
"But... he's not going to keep touching just my stomach, is he?"
His fingers had been lightly tickling my belly, but now his whole palm is pressing against me. He doesn't know it, but I'm actually quite sensitive there. If he keeps going, he'll think it's because of my stomach fat or something. It almost feels like he's telling me to exercise or watch what I eat. Not that it feels bad—actually, the fluttering in my chest from his touch is stronger than anything else. Why does my body have to react like this when it's not just my stomach he's touching? There's also my back. My hips. My chest...
Suddenly, he pulls me into his arms. Closer than ever, with no space left between us. Since I still have to pretend I'm asleep, I burrow my face into his chest. Breathing him in from this close, I notice he smells even more... aroused than usual. No, not aroused—how should I describe it? Like hormones? It makes my heart race and my head spin. It's the same scent that sometimes rises when I'm touching myself beside him. That unmistakable male scent. It's hard to explain, but whenever I catch it, desire surges through me.
He must be sweating from touching me. He can't stay still either. Then... his hand slides down my back.
What should I do? So there are places like that on my body too. People don't usually touch their own backs, after all. Except when putting on a bra. When Samchon strokes my back, I finally understand. Ah, so this is what it feels like to be touched here. He's teaching me something new again. That being touched on the back makes me lose my mind. That his hands are burning hot.
And then...
"Hah?!"
His hand reaches my waist. This place has never been touched either. Actually, aside from showering, most parts of my body have never really been touched at all. But thanks to Samchon—thanks to him touching his sleeping niece—I'm learning that every inch of me reacts to his hands. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it even with my eyes closed.
Then... finally, his hand settles on my hip.
"Not here, Samchon. Not here..."
"Haa... haah... hnnngh..."
If he touches me there right now, I really won't be able to hold back. I'll moan out loud beside him. The desire is already overflowing, threatening to spill over. If this keeps going... if he really does this...
"Mmm..."
In the end, I pretend to wake up just to make him stop. Thankfully, he quickly pulls his hand away. But the fire he's lit inside me... I have no idea how to put it out. Once he gets up and leaves, I'll lie here in the warmth he left behind and... just like last night... do something awful. Maybe if I imagine something filthy, this heat will finally fade a little.