Between Affairs and Cars #1
“Fuck… ah… so fucking good… ah… keep going…”
Kim Ji-ho. When they first met, she'd just come back from maternity leave. Even after ten years at the company, she still seemed like the type who struggled with work, making occasional mistakes. We shouldn't have fucked in that company car, Han Dae-jin thought. Somehow, after getting chewed out so harshly she started crying, he'd stroked her hair, suddenly kissed her, and then pounded her like a dog in heat. He'd committed a massive fuck-up by pumping another man's wife—a woman barely a year out from giving birth—with his cum. And the result? From dawn till morning, he'd been slamming into Kim Ji-ho's ass, lost in sex.
As Han Dae-jin thrust from behind, tapping her ass cheeks, she switched positions this time, letting him mount her from above. Spreading her legs and parting her pussy lips with her fingers—the same ones that had birthed her daughter—Han Dae-jin shoved his cock in right away, slipping his fingers alongside it. It was his own little countermeasure.
“Ah… ah… you gonna cum inside again?”
“Of course, you fucking slut.”
Han Dae-jin picked up the pace until he unleashed his second load deep inside her. His semen trickled down her ass. Kim Ji-ho wiped it up with some tissue and grinned.
“Should I get the pretty girl surgery? You always shove your dick and fingers in together.”
“Why?”
“Just 'cause. You look like it hurts.”
“Nah.”
As Han Dae-jin brushed it off, Kim Ji-ho pulled birth control pills from her handbag and popped one. She still had a husband, no plans for a second kid with him—he'd even gotten a vasectomy—and getting knocked up now would mean unavoidable divorce. The two barely managed a shower, threw on clothes, and headed to the office twenty minutes away.
At work, their HR department head and senior colleague, Min Hee-yeon, greeted them warmly.
“Oh? What's this? Coming in together?”
“Ah, we live in the same direction. She gave me a ride,” Han Dae-jin said casually.
“Yeah? But from your place, Ji-ho's house is on the opposite side of the company, right?”
Min Hee-yeon's sharp jab made Han Dae-jin cough awkwardly and slink to his seat. Kim Ji-ho had already vanished. The morning office was still quiet.
“Be careful, seriously. What if you get caught?”
Min Hee-yeon, the HR head, muttered.
“Eh… life is what it is…”
“No one lives life having affairs. And Ji-ho just had a kid not long ago—how can you already be doing this shit?”
She hissed under her breath just as the team leader arrived. Han Dae-jin and Min Hee-yeon stood to greet him, and Kim Ji-ho, who happened to be grabbing coffee from the break room, bowed too.
Han Dae-jin's job was settling the miscellaneous expenses for this shitty company that barely broke even, clinging desperately to one client. He bought supplies—not raw materials, mostly—and handled errands. Sometimes he had to take Kim Ji-ho along, and every time, he'd fuck her brains out, burning extra hours. After work, she was just a dutiful wife to her much older husband, obedient to her in-laws. But with him? A feral beast starved for rough sex.
Did Han Dae-jin excel at it? Hell no. With his shit attention span, he botched details on approval docs constantly, forcing the team leader to fix them for CFO sign-off. He still couldn't figure out how he'd passed probation and kept the gig.
Strictly speaking, Kim Ji-ho was his superior in general affairs—general affairs manager. But she wasn't some genius either; she got reamed by the team leader just as often.
Mid-task, Han Dae-jin glanced at Kim Ji-ho. Beneath her slutty outfit peeked her irezumi tattoo. The first time he'd stripped her, that massive ink covering her shoulder blades and arms had stolen the show over her tits or pussy.
“I've played around a bit.”
Not long after their first fuck, when he'd asked about the tattoo, she'd blown cigarette smoke in his face—right in some back corner of the company lot that wasn't even the smoking area—and dropped that line. She always smoked out back to dodge stares from the male-heavy office.
Lunchtime hit. Han Dae-jin headed out with colleagues, Kim Ji-ho, and Min Hee-yeon. As Min Hee-yeon paid, guys from another department around his age poked him.
“What the hell, man.”
“Your YouTube, dude. Saw that winding vid—fucking sick. You train somewhere?”
Min Hee-yeon, walking ahead, turned with a smirk.
“Dae-jin, you street-racing again?”
“Ah… just a light drive.”
“You fucking idiot? The Avante 3 isn't a sports car. And why pull that shit? It's dangerous as hell.”
Kim Ji-ho snapped unusually harshly, jumping in.
Truth was, Han Dae-jin didn't advertise his YouTube at work. It was just clips of tearing up public roads with club folks, occasional passenger cams—under 100 subs. But editing those vids gave him another string to his bow, letting him cling to this hellhole job. He handled deadlines like shit but nailed video edits, churning out decent low-budget promo reels that earned CEO praise. His announcer-style narration hooked the boss.
That chaos had saved him, landing him promo duties too.
They hit a nearby Chinese joint for lunch, scarfed uniform orders, coffee'd up, and returned. Along the way, Min Hee-yeon sidled up to Han Dae-jin. He eyed the curves under her glamorous fit.
She caught the stare and smirked.
“I hate love and war games. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“If you've got skills, try seducing me.”
“Don't have 'em.”
He grinned, brushing past her.
That evening, Friday hit. Han Dae-jin drove his usual route to Gimpo Coffee Special. With a beater like the Avante 3, faking car nut cred meant sim rigs there—the only option. Old-school belt-driven wheelbases, but good enough for him.
Ninety minutes later, he parked. His Avante 3 looked pathetic next to the neighbors: a Skyline GTO, Nissan 350Z, tuned Avante N, and that dream BMW F8X M3.
The Avante N caught his eye most—realistic upkeep, looked quick.
After eyeballing it outside, he headed in.
“Hey! KiwiChick's here?!”
The cafe owner greeted him warmly. KiwiChick—his other moniker here, from his YouTube channel. That was his identity around these parts.
The owner grinned, queuing Han Dae-jin's recent Avante 3 winding vid on the in-house monitor. Folks already nursing coffee or yogurt watched, impressed. On-screen, he braked precisely into blind corners, loaded the weight, then carved apexes and center lines like a pro.
They tossed compliments his way. Real or polite? Who knew.
“Yo, KiwiChick. New girl in your club? Chicks on YouTube explode views usually.”
The owner said while brewing coffee.
“Girl member? Oh, saw her in the group chat. Red Avante 3 Sport. Judo black belt or something.”
He played it cool. True enough—a few days back, she'd joined with a red Avante 3 Sport and martial arts creds. They'd met up; her wild public-road driving stuck out. He'd planned to pitch collab vids, but snag ahead.
Sipping coffee, lost in thought, a purple Avante 3 Sport pulled in. His club's vice leader, YouTube influencer Yoon Ha-rin with solid subs. She spotted him, played buddy-buddy, greeted warmly. Her mutt Dori wagged too.
Yeah. The problem was Yoon Ha-rin.
If she snagged the girl first for a vid, explosion? Dream on. Burned YouTube side characters didn't resurface unless legendary porn-tier.
Yoon Ha-rin ordered coffee; Han Dae-jin followed her out. The cafe's massive lot drew JDM crowds. As she lit a smoke, a Skyline B34 rolled in.
“Fuck…”
Han Dae-jin muttered irritably, eyeing the B34 and his Avante 3. Yoon Ha-rin smirked.
“What?”
“Fuck that heavy-ass thing cruising cafes?”
“What's wrong? Just street driving.”
She puffed smoke.
“Next vid plans?”
“Eh? Not sure. Hard to find decent car nerds lately… Shitty drivers piss me off, mild tunes turn poser…”
She flicked ash.
“Club's got some, right?”
He probed.
“Hm? Oh, that judo bitch.”
“Her?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Fuck. Gotta move fast, he thought.
“Nah, nothing.”
“Won't cut it anyway. Better filming Na-hee unnie swimfan—insta-famous—but she'd bitch about ruining her racing girl gig.”
Yoon Ha-rin tossed her butt anywhere, lit another. The owner's wife approached.
“Ha-rin! No smoking everywhere!”
She bowed, and they headed to the proper smoking area with Han Dae-jin. JDM owners chatted tuning shops. Night hit 10 PM; familiar cafe regulars and rides poured in.
“Yo, plans tonight?”
“Eh, maybe Dongmak Beach after?”
Ganghwa's winding beach run.
“Soon? Crew's coming later.”
“Sure, whatever.”
They went inside. Regular kids on sims waved. Outside, popcorn exhausts and revs blared. Han Dae-jin peeked: Avante N, Geni Coupe, and that red Avante 3 Sport issue. The girl was here.