How to Train a Gold Medalist's Thighs
A peaceful morning. My son scrambled into his shoes, then hesitated at the door as if he'd forgotten something.
"Mom, Taeyang's really coming at three, so... make sure you're ready, okay?"
Oh my god, this kid!!! How many times does he have to say the exact same thing... Fine. Ugh.
"Yes, yes, I know! How many times do I have to say it? Mom heard you the first time."
I walked him to the door and gave his back a light push.
"Off you go, then. You'll be late for your professor's lecture, sweetie."
"Ah... okay, Mom. I'm heading out."
And with that, my precious son was finally off to university. Phew. Left alone in the living room, I carried the empty dishes from the table to the sink, running through my plans for the day in my head. We had soybean stew yesterday, so something different today... curry? Or bulgogi?
[Mother, this is honestly so delicious.]
Heh heh. The image of Taeyang eating so eagerly popped into my head, and a smile crept onto my face all on its own. When you live alone, nothing beats a home-cooked meal — I know exactly how much that means.
Right, a nice hearty curry it is. But... hmm. First, I suppose I should do these dishes.
Scrub scrub, squeak—!
After finishing the dishes, I checked the clock. Still not even ten in the morning. Hmm, five whole hours to go?
I sat on the sofa for a bit, flipped on the TV, scrolled through a few channels, then glanced around the living room. Oh, look at me! Quit lazing around and get to work. Things were a bit cluttered when Taeyang came over yesterday. Might as well clean.
First, straighten the cushions... tidy up the things on the coffee table... pick up the socks Minho had strewn across the floor...
Oh my? By the time I finished cleaning, I was drenched in sweat, so I had no choice but to shower and pick out fresh clothes. Hmm... my usual white t-shirt and hotpants.
Wait, no? We're having a guest today — should I dress up a little? ...I stood in front of the closet deliberating for a moment, but in the end I reached for the same old combination. What's the point of dressing up? It's just the boys coming over. I swiped on a little lip balm in front of the mirror and headed straight for the kitchen — all for Minho and Taeyang, who'd come home starving after class!
By the time I was well into making the curry, it was already 2:40. Oh, time flies— Riiing! Just then, my phone chimed with a message.
Huh? So he'd arrive before Minho... which meant, for a little while, it would just be me and Taeyang alone together. Hmm, what's the harm~ He's my son's friend.
Exactly three minutes after sending my reply, the doorbell rang. Ding-dong. The moment it sounded, I hastily hung my apron over a chair and hurried to the entrance.
"Oh my, you're already here! One sec, I'll open up right away!"
"Yes, ma'am!!!"
Click, clack.
"Come on in~"
"Haha! Hello, Mother! I brought cherries."
Taeyang beamed brightly, holding out what he'd brought, wearing that sweet, easygoing smile of his.
"Minho's not here yet, right? Ahaha, his class runs until four, so... I guess I got here a bit early."
"That's fine! Come in, come in — it's hot out."
"Yes ma'am~"
Shuffle. Taeyang neatly removed his sneakers and lined them up by the door. Just as polite as yesterday. Such a well-mannered boy, this Taeyang... no wonder he's Minho's friend.
"Oh? Is that curry I smell? Wow, I LOVE curry."
"Oh, you like curry?"
"Yes, I love it so much...!"
Taeyang made his way toward the kitchen, nose twitching like a boar scenting a sow.
"Mother, is there anything I can help with? We have some time before Minho gets here..."
I waved him off.
"No, no, you're a guest. Sit down and relax on the sofa — it's almost done."
"Aw, come on, hardly a guest. I'll be over all the time, anyway."
Taeyang grumbled halfheartedly but obediently made his way to the sofa. Plop. Then he picked up the remote and turned on the TV as naturally as if it were his own home.
"Mother, mind if I watch some TV?"
The sheer nerve — asking after already turning it on. Haha, but... his voice is so adorably cute, how could I possibly call him out on it? He's precious, so I'll let it slide~
"Sure, go ahead. Make yourself at home."
I returned to the kitchen and stirred away at the curry pot. How peaceful...
With the curry bubbling gently and variety show chatter drifting from the TV, the scene looked like any ordinary afternoon — the kind where you'd never guess a male was stalking his prey.
Sitting on the sofa, I turned my head just slightly, pretending to watch the TV.
"Oooh~ nice~"
And then, like a male in heat, I drank in the side profile of the female standing in the kitchen. Every time Harin's arm moved to stir the pot, I could see her chest jiggling faintly inside that white t-shirt. The pervert even wears a bra, but~ looks like it can't fully contain those uselessly enormous udders~ kikit.
"Mother, what do you put in your curry? I've been trying to make it in my dorm but I keep messing it up."
I turned on the sofa and called out toward the kitchen. My conversation hook worked instantly — Harin answered right away.
"Mmm... potatoes, carrots... onions?"
"Oh, so you sauté the potatoes first. Gotta remember that."
Pop. I rose quietly from the sofa.
"Mother, is it okay if I come take a closer look? I'm really curious how you make it..."
"Of course, of course. Look here — see, you give the potatoes a quick sear in the oil first like this. That way they don't fall apart later, even after a long simmer."
At my words, the female did her very best to demonstrate, stirring the pot with the ladle as she explained.
"Ah... so that's how it's done. But wow, Mother, your hands are huge."
Of course, yours truly doesn't actually listen. Instead, I pointed at the ladle-holding hand of Harin's.
Naturally. Oh-so-naturally. I brought my own hand up beside the female's and laid them side by side, palm to palm, as if comparing.
Press.
"See? Mine's this tiny."
My hand sat right next to the back of Harin's hand.
"You're right, Taeyang, your hands are so small. It's adorable, honestly~"
"Hehe, thank you."
Then Harin set the ladle down, took my hand, placed it on her own palm, and playfully compared our sizes.
Ohhh, you fucking minx, you—
"Wow, it really is tiny... it's not even half the size of mine?"
"Geez... your hand is so warm, Mother."
Slide. My fingers twitched, ever so slightly, against Harin's palm.
"Mother! You said you used to be an athlete, right? Minho told me~ don't tell me... is that why even your hands are this firm?"
"Probably from all the training, yeah? I run warm, too — sweat a lot, hands run hot."
Harin squeezed my hand gently, opened it, squeezed it again, kneading it playfully.
Squeeze, squeeEEEze.
"You're like a baby! Awwww."
"A baby...? Haha, no, Mother, you're just too big."
This fucking bitch just called me a baby? Dared to poke at MY complex? Oh, you're done. You're caught, you're caught.
I was planning to take this slow and gentle, but fine — I'll just use you like a filthy fucking toilet~ Ooooh. But not yet, not yet, so the performance continued. I kept the cute little mask firmly in place, let Harin fiddle with my hand to her heart's content, and took one step closer to the female.
Sniff... sniff... Kim Harin's scent hits my nose and — ah, the smell of a female... Body wash fragrance blended with sweat... the smell of a living, breathing woman...♡ SEXX!!!
Think I'm in the mood to touch some thigh today?
"Mother, but a gold medal — that's really incredible, you know? Your legs must have been insanely fast! Right?"
"Well, I suppose...?"
"Could I touch your leg? I'm just curious what an athlete's muscle actually feels like."
"What— out of nowhere? Touch my leg? You weird little thing."
That instant, I caught it — the female's tone hadn't hardened at all. Oh, this is going to be easier than I thought?
"Oh, it's totally pure curiosity! I learned in class that athletes' muscle fibers are different from regular people's... I'm really, really!!! curious!!"
I cooked up a plausible excuse on the spot and widened my eyes into the most earnest, pleading expression I could manage. When a bratty tantrum comes out of a face as small as mine, no woman on earth can say no. How about it, dear auntie? I look just like an elementary schooler begging for candy, don't I? Kikit.
"You get curious about the strangest things. Fine — which part are you curious about??"
KA-YA, jackpot~
Future Toilet-chan stuck one leg out toward me of her own accord, inviting me to touch it. The thigh muscle beneath her hotpants was firm and beautifully defined.
Heh heh, you think I haven't already mapped out Harin-chan's personality? That bold, breezy, big-sister streak of hers. The way she reflexively treats anything small as a child. A stumpy little baby-faced guy like me whining that he wants to touch her legs? To her, it registers as about as threatening as a kitten asking for pets.
Then let's see what you've got! Time to taste it.
"Really? Thank you so much!"
The moment permission left her lips, I bent my knees and crouched down — bringing my eyeline exactly level with Harin's kneecap. Gulp.
My hand touched the female's calf. At first, I made a show of genuinely examining the muscle, measuring it like a good little student.
"Whoa... it really IS different~ right here... the density is on another level compared to normal people."
Chomp—! I pressed my entire palm flat against her calf. Feeling the warmth of skin meeting skin, I traced the smooth, springy flesh and— ssliiiide— slowly glided my hand upward. Past the calf, around the back of the knee, and then my hand arrived at the thigh.
"My my, Mother, you are SO solid."
"Mmhm."
SqueeEEze. I gripped the outside of the female's thigh, trying to wrap my hand around it. Ohhh... A circumference one hand could never encircle. Her soft thigh flesh oozed up between my fingers, burying them — pure paradise. Fuck, this is unreal. Like running my hand over a top-grade cut of meat with the juices practically running down. Firm in just the right places, soft underneath, like a slime...♡
"Nnh... could you go a little gentler...?"
Gentler...? Did this female just give an order to a male? Insolent bitch...!
Time for a little lesson. Deliberately, I slid my hand further toward her inner thigh and pressed down. SSQUEEZE—!
"Hnnk?!"
Inner thigh — just a few centimeters below the hem of her hotpants. Just as I predicted... the softness there was on a completely different plane from the rest of her leg. THIS is marbling, baby, ka—ya!
For the record, if you come on too strong too fast, the auntie might get suspicious, so — pacing. I eased off.
"Ah, sorry about that."
I pulled my hand right off her thigh and apologized with impeccable manners. Then, for phase two, I laced in needlessly technical jargon and praised the female with all my heart.
"Wow~ your adductors are seriously developed too. KA-YA!! Track athletes really are built different. Absolutely amazing."
"Uhm, is that... so?"
"Yes, right here, right here."
Tap. With suspicion cleared, I pressed my palm back against the female's thigh. The moment my thumb dug into the soft flesh of her inner thigh— something twitched, ever so faintly, deep inside the female.
"Hngh!!♡"
Ohhh~ what a dumbass~
Gasp. I'd just let out a moan. I've lost my mind — what am I doing... so embarrassing, how mortifying. Here's this sweet boy, politely rubbing my thigh, and I'm... feeling something. How shameful can you get, you idiot. Ugh, if I had to excuse myself — it's just that it's been so long since another person's hand roamed over my body... and it felt... kind of nice... ahem.
But whether some worthless female feels anything or not is of zero concern to a true male. I kept my hand moving, gliding up the soft inner slope of the female's thigh. Sliiide. Soon my fingertips were on the verge of slipping under the hem of her hotpants. Suuup~
The tips of a child's fingers reached the boundary of her crotch — the hot, damp territory — until they were nearly, nearly there.
"Nnh...!"
No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, the body is honest when it comes to pleasure, and the moans kept leaking out of her mouth.
"Nngh... mm...! Hnn♡"
Tremble, tremble, squEEEZE—! Her body responded to the pleasure, and her thighs clamped down around my hand in pure reflex.
"Ah—! S-sorry, Minho's mom! My hand slipped...!"
Taeyang must have heard my moan, because he hastily yanked his hand away and backed off. I clutched my thigh with one hand and caught my breath.
"Haa... hnn..."
My earlobes were already burning red.
"N-no, it's fine. You just startled me a little... it's okay, really."
Awkward silence... God, this is mortifying. What is wrong with me. Sigh. If there were a mouse hole nearby I'd crawl into it. But sitting frozen like this would only bury the mood deeper into the gutter, so I waved my hands and forced out a smile.
"Ahaha... Taeyang, ahem, sorry. For making that weird noise all of a sudden..."
"No, no, I'm the one who's really sorry. I got so focused on your leg that I, um... I made a mistake."
"....."
Heh heh heh. That sensation from my fingertips just now. Damp heat, and a sticky, faintly slick wetness. Our female seems to have excellent sensitivity too... Grade 2. The only reason she's not Grade 1 yet is because it's simply not time. After a little more conditioning, I can hand out the Grade 1 rating anytime. Grade 1... the pinnacle... gold medal...
Suddenly, I remembered the first time that dumbass told me about his dumbass mom. Back in the far corner of the lecture hall, the fucking idiot had stammered it out to me.
[Taeyang, my mom... she won a gold medal once.]
Ugh, yeah yeah, gold medal... gold medal... wait—?! That was the moment I decided to become best friends with this idiot. I mean, seriously — why would an ultra-popular department kingpin like me, Geum Taeyang, suddenly hang around with some invisible shadow like you? Ugh, disgusting... the mere fact that I have to associate with such a social leper. But your mom, though? SEX. Absolute smokeshow!!
I drank in Harin's figure from behind as she stood at the stove. Legs that cleared 170 cm with room to spare, a greedy ass hugged by hotpants. A white t-shirt clinging faintly to her back with sweat. The word smokeshow made flesh. When I think about claiming all of that someday, this much sacrifice is nothing. Krrrrgh, fuck, my heart's poundinggg—!!!
Fap fap! Ahhh, too excited♡ Calm down, calm down... Everything proceeds slowly. Home-grown fruit always tastes the sweetest. I put the polite, sunny mask back on.
"Uuu, Mother. I'm truly so sorry. I was so rude, wasn't I?"
"...Taeyang, it's nothing, stop apologizing. The curry's done — could you grab some plates for me?"
"Oh, yes ma'am!!"
And so the whole sequence of events passed peacefully, as if nothing had happened at all. But Kim Harin. Bitch. The communal cum-dumpster for little dicks. A garbage can for semen. Free pussy. A sex toy. A pleasure toilet. A cock-processing machine. A personal onahole. A cum receptacle. A fuck-house. A hole. Udder-cow. Friend's mom. A whore. A slut. A milk-livestock. Fucking bitch, and so on...
On the female who goes by so many names — in the spot on her inner thigh, right beside her cunt — there was now a mark no one would ever know about: the deep imprint of a male, stamped in like a seal under my fingertip.
Minho, I'll put your mommy to good use~ I'm going to keep working harrrd from now on, so cheer me on, okay~?