The Daughter's Sin is the Mother's Sin (9)
Yujeong's hair had long since been rinsed clean of any soap suds. Yet she still kept her eyes squeezed shut as if the bubbles made it unavoidable, and I continued to gently massage her scalp and nape, pretending there were still plenty left.
The pleasant sensation slowly melted away the rigid expression of anger and fear she'd fixed on me. Before long, she wore a drowsy, languid look, as if she might drift off to sleep right there if I let her.
Does she think she's at a paid massage parlor or something? It was a long night ahead, and I had no intention of letting her relax like that.
I slid the hand stroking her nape forward—carefully, but just as swiftly—and grabbed firm hold of those breasts, each one as big as her head.
"Gah! Wh-what are you—"
"—Don't say that. Not when you have such pretty tits."
I started buttering her up again to keep her from resisting.
You're the best. I've had countless women, but none like you—not for me, anyway. These huge tits, this ass... perfect. From the moment I first saw you at the entrance ceremony, delivering your little speech, I got hard. I wanted to bury my face between those thick thighs under your pencil skirt and those sheer black stockings. I wanted to nuzzle into your armpits under all those layers of blouse and suit jacket, breathe in your scent. Not a single day passed since without you on my mind.
My hands kneaded her breasts as my voice dripped with honeyed lust.
They were massive, alright. I'd already known they were unrealistically huge just from eyeing her naked body, but feeling them for real made it hit different—way better than looks alone. And it wasn't just size. The shape was gorgeous: perfect teardrops. Despite their heft, they had insane bounce, constantly trying to slip free from my palms no matter how tight I gripped.
But at the same time, I could see why Yujeong had such low self-esteem despite a body like this.
It was too much. These tits were obscene. Who the hell would compliment them without it sounding sexual? Even innocent praise would twist into something lewd because of these demonic udders, regardless of gender.
If they'd been just a bit smaller (say, Yujin's size), she'd have gotten "nice body" compliments left and right and built some confidence. But they were too big—backfired completely.
If Yujeong had even a shred of her daughter's attention-seeking streak, that misunderstanding never would've happened. But no—she was the polar opposite of Yujin, a repressed woman who hated the spotlight. That's why she'd never realized her own worth.
Didn't matter to me, though. Hell, it was perfect for me. There's an old saying about excess being as bad as deficiency, but no one ever said that about excess tits. The more tit, the better. The ancient sages must've known it too—that's why they didn't use the character for "breast" in the phrase! ...Or not.
Anyway, stepping in for her late husband, I planned to teach her the true value of these tits. I mashed them like dough, flicking her tiny pink nipples—cherry-sized at most, comically small against her massive rack.
"How long... are you going to... keep groping them? Let go already."
Even naked in the tub while I molested her chest, she spoke in that strict chairwoman tone, like she was still perched in her office chair.
But words were all she had—no real pushback. She just kept her back ramrod straight, avoiding full body contact like my cock was poison.
I ramped up the flicking on her nipples, fingers flying up and down faster. The little cherries swelled to full size, their pink deepening to red.
"Hah... ha... nn... "
Her stern voice finally started to melt.
The shower water had filled the tub halfway—half-bath level. Time to cut it off before it got too deep.
Too much water would overheat us, make breathing tough, and dull the fun of groping her tits. No way I'd let that lower her nipple sensitivity.
So I lifted the foot I'd wedged under her ass. I'd planned to tease her pussy with my toes like her tits, but this mom of a Yujin-sized daughter had her guard up tighter than expected—impossible to work with.
I could've forced it with my hands, but after all the flattery while suppressing my rage? Nah, that'd waste the effort on this slutty bitch.
I stretched my legs forward. The tub was spacious enough, but I pressed my thigh right up against her waist, nearly enveloping her lower belly.
She must've thought I was coiling around her waist to trap her—she tried to stand.
"Ah, hn. W-wait a sec!"
How many "wait a secs" was this bitch up to? Like I'd stop just because she said it. She sure as hell never listened when I said it...
My earlier distraction over her tits sharpened my edge again. I poured more force into my flicking finger and the hand ripping at her breast.
"Hnnngh! ...Nn. Kh, hm."
She'd clearly felt it—whimpered like a bitch in heat—then tried playing innocent again. Fat chance I'd buy it.
I slid both hands up and pinched her nipples between thumbs and forefingers. Hard. Like a crocodile's jaws on prey. Like a press machine flattening silicone.
Yujeong, half-risen with her ass up, froze as the pull yanked her tits downward. She figured I'd rip them off if she stood.
I eyed the cleft between her lifted cheeks. Wet from the water, sure—but not all water's the same. Tap water from the faucet and pussy juice from the slit? Worlds apart. Same color, but the texture tells. Or screw texture—instinct knows. My cock knows.
"Fuu—"
I blew a puff of breath down her crack, like checking a poker hand face-up on the table.
"What the—? Ha— hiiik?!"
Her ass quivered wildly as she let out the cutest squeak. A thin trickle ran down her inner thigh—same hue and sheen as the bathwater. But I knew. My dick throbbed, screaming to plunge in now, make this near-expired bitch fulfill her role at peak ripeness.
Her arousal confirmed my teasing was working. But I held back.
I pressed my sole to the faucet with my raised leg. Hot water stopped. She sighed in relief—panting, heated—and sank back down.
I kept the leg extended, thigh flexed hard to bulge the muscles. Showing off for her—and yep, she pretended not to look but couldn't tear her eyes from my thigh, her pussy twitching openly.
Back at my old school, I'd skipped class for soccer in shorts every PE period—my legs were bronzed tan, thighs solid and ripped, nothing like the beer guts on guys her age.
Classic milf behavior...?
A young thing—or Yujin—wouldn't fixate on thighs. Face or shoulders, maybe. But this womb on menopause countdown, hornier for cum than any other age? She craved my testosterone-pumping quads.
Poor creatures, milfs are... Guess I had to fuck her senseless.
I almost sneered, "Craving to touch it that bad, auntie?"—but barely held back.
Sure, it'd be hilarious watching her blush to suicide-by-tub, then smack that ass raw. But milfs sulk way harder than girls when you call 'em out.
A young hottie like Yujin? She'd laugh it off: "I'm no auntie!" Milfs—even top-tier ones like Yujeong, outshining girls in looks and body—desperately crave lost youth as their prime fades. They envy it, resent it...
Most guys don't give a shit about that baggage.
They just pick the tastier, hotter, fuckier pussy.
So tonight, I'd remind this clueless milf her true worth—as breeding stock.
My goal: drown her in syrupy, sticky-sweet reward sex so intense it'd revert milf-Yujeong to bitch-Yujeong.
No "auntie" slips tonight. Every pet name: unnie. Unnie becomes [girlfriend], girlfriend [hey, Lee Yujeong], cutie [snugglebug] for milf-loving couples, and snugglebug devolves to [bitch-slave]—my personal tit-rug, pussy-onahole, piss-toilet, etc. Patience was key.
Enough gawking time. She stared longingly at my submerged leg, then flushed deeper, snapping her head down in shame.
A bitch-milf catching herself lusting over a man's thighs? Peak humiliation.
Perfect—time for the finisher.
I'd been whispering embarrassments in her ear—love you, you're gorgeous, I like you—then switched gears.
"Truth is, I wasn't that into Yujin."
"What?"
"She's not my type. ...Not saying she's ugly or anything."
Silence, then she whipped around to face me. Up till now, she'd been too cowardly to even glance at my face—or dick—head bowed, body limp to my touches. Now? Fire in her eyes.
Motherhood, huh.
"You... played with my daughter?"
She glared like she'd kill me depending on my answer. Fists clenched fierce.
"Yeah."
"You little fuck—"
I shoved my face near hers—kiss-close—to shut her up, spilling my prepared line like emotional vomit.
"Know why? I was after you. Everything to get close to you."
"...What?"
"Your daughter's scrawny next to you."
Would it land? She was enduring this for Yujin—would my lie shatter that very reason?
Could I kill off "mother" Yujeong and revive "bitch" Yujeong?
Yujeong whipped her head away in shock.
Her true reaction? Unclear.
If no dice, drop the act—brutal rape-fuck time.
If it worked, double down: sweet, cloying reward sex.
Which would she pick?
Either road led to her hell. But at the end, the sweeter path might be the crueler one.