Crumbling Everyday Life (2)

Of course, that wasn't the question Yujeong had actually wanted to ask, but I had zero reason to give her a straight answer anyway.

"Looks like we've cleaned up enough. Shall we head out? It's about time the pharmacy selling morning-after pills opens…."

I picked up Yujeong's clothes and handed them to her. She took them, but instead of putting them on right away, she just stood there for a moment before setting them back down on the bed. As if it wasn't time to get dressed yet.

Yujeong circled around the side of the bed and approached where I was standing. As she walked, she let the gray towel draped over her body slip downward. Her breasts were still partially covered by the white towel over her nipples, but that did nothing to hide the full upper swells thrusting boldly toward me once more.

I'd stared at, groped, sucked, and fucked those tits all night long, but my eyes were drawn to them anyway.

I shot her a sly, knowing smile, as if to say, What the hell is this about? But Yujeong glared back at me with a stern expression utterly at odds with the melted, gooey face she'd worn last night.

The bitch from last night had transformed back into the strict chairwoman.

"Don't get the wrong idea!"

She shouted as she perched on the edge of the bed right in front of me. Without hesitation, she reached out with both hands toward my crotch. She yanked my pants down roughly, as if they might rip, pulling my underwear down with them.

Her right hand shot out and gripped my already hard cock tight.

"This is just sex. Processing. To keep your filthy hands off my daughter… to purge this disgusting thing from your body…!"

Yujeong's left hand clamped onto my balls. I was caught off guard by the unexpected move. She looked up at me, her tongue flicking unconsciously across her upper lip.

Gazing up at me with my cock and balls suddenly seized and frozen stiff, she yelled,

"Don't hold back—squirt it all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out quick! All this filth!"

She glanced at the trash can overflowing with my used condoms, then immediately engulfed my cock in her mouth.

Her technique was still crap, amateur blowjob skills at best, but I appreciated her newfound enthusiasm and came fast.

I showered her shitty oral work with endless praise. I slipped my hand inside the towel, tweaking her nipples.

Claiming she'd already cleaned up and didn't want to get dirty again—or maybe using that as an excuse—she swallowed my load. I hadn't even forced her to.

*

Before regressing, I'd gone to the pharmacy students frequented and bought some morning-after pills.

Unlike Yujeong, the middle-aged pharmacist lady— a real ajumma—eyed me, with my youthful looks, and the mature-looking woman leaning against the glass door outside (her face hidden, but her vibe and curves screamed ripeness) back and forth. She flashed me a knowing smile, like she got the picture.

I had no interest in flirtations from a genuine ajumma like her, so I ignored it, paid, said thanks, and left.

Yujeong snatched the plastic bag from my hand like she'd been waiting, didn't even say goodbye, and vanished down the main road. She walked fast despite her heels, desperate not to be seen with me.

There was no trace of the woman who'd so tenderly sucked my cock just before we left the motel.

A bit annoyed, I considered following her and smacking that ass, but I let it go.

My phone's notification screen was flooded with missed calls and texts.

I called Yujin.

Yujin's voice screamed like she wanted to kill me right that instant.

"Men's bathroom at the park, inside a stall."

"Fuck, you disgusting piece of shit… cut the bullshit—"

"With your mom."

"W-what? Mom? You're with my mom?"

"Yeah. Wanna hear? She's squatting under me while I'm on the toilet, fingering her pussy, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠face buried between my legs, sucking my dick."

My voice dripped with mockery.

Yujin finally realized I was messing with her and sucked in a huge breath. She was about to unleash a torrent of curses that could shatter my eardrum with her future idol main-vocal pipes—

Click.

I hung up. No need to listen to that crap.

I got home. School was in two hours, but I was dead tired and wanted to crash, even briefly. No dice.

It was a face I'd longed to see, but not like this. Not right now.

I eyed Yujin's outfit. She was dressed for school, so the uniform wasn't weird in itself—but on her, it felt off. She looked like the perfect rule-following student her mom Yujeong would approve of. The top button strained against her massive tits, threatening to pop.

I'd just come from seeing Yujeong's, so it didn't hit as hard, but those two huge mounds were still way bigger than average, drawing my gaze relentlessly.

And her skirt was long, with proper black stockings—no bare skin or the fishnets no student should wear, the kind that drove guys insane.

Why the getup? Had her mom fallen from chairwoman to bitch, so now Yujin was vowing to go from delinquent to model student?

Whatever. Her clothes didn't matter to me. I'd strip her and make her slutty soon enough.

She'd probably dressed thick and modest like armor, dreading my touch.

"What the hell? Stalker? Following me home…? How'd you know where I live?"

I bantered upon seeing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her at my doorstep, but I already knew why she was here.

She must've gotten my address from the cops when she reported me as a rapist.

I wasn't convicted yet, so that was straight-up illegal—but expecting common sense from this city's police was a fool's game.

"You alone?"

"Yeah, just me."

I turned my back to her and opened the door to my house.

I played it cool, but my heart pounded. Something so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠obvious I'd overlooked hit me: they knew where I lived, just like I knew their places. I wasn't the only one who could strike—they could hit me too.

Even my home wasn't safe anymore. I worried about Mom—not Yujin’s mom Yujeong, but my real one. I needed to get her out with some excuse before those bitches targeted her.

Lost in those thoughts, I stepped through the open door. Yujin boldly followed me inside, right up to our entryway. Dealing with both mother and daughter now sounded exhausting, but no point stopping her.

If she was jumping into the trap on her own, that was a gift.

"Home alone too?"

Yujin asked.

"Yeah. Unlike your mom, who was busy sucking my dick all night, my mom's out working her ass off."

I mocked her again as I bent to take off my shoes—then froze at a weird gut feeling. Instinct.

Yujin's compliant attitude. Her suppressed anger.

Something was wrong.

Suppressing anger? Yujin?

From what I'd investigated pre-regression, she'd never held back her rage. She exploded regardless of the situation.

And it wasn't just that. Her outfit was off too.

Would the Yujin I knew show up all covered up and prim out of fear of my hands?

Hell no—she'd flaunt even more skin, daring me to try. That's who she was. So why this?

I'd barely slept in two days, endured police questioning, and cum dozens of times overnight—my brain was fried, so the answer didn't click right away.

Instead of puzzling it out, I turned to ask Yujin—or rather, her tits—directly.

A kitchen knife flashed into view. I'd seen it before—its curved blade like a hwando, memorable.

Ah, got it. It was from Yujin and Yujeong's kitchen last night when I'd snuck in.

My foggy, fatigue-addled brain suddenly spun at full speed.

Why? Oh, right.

Yujin was swinging the knife straight at my eyes, survival instinct kicking into overdrive like never before.

Even with death closing in, my male instincts locked onto the thick thighs flashing under her flipped-up skirt.

"Die."

Yujin didn't scream it. She meant it for real. She genuinely wanted me dead, so she kept her voice low to avoid drawing attention, swallowing all the insults she craved to hurl.