The Dress Suits Her Perfectly
I pause my hips and rise up from Ayoung's back. A short, wet squelch echoes from where I pull out, but she doesn't even seem to notice. Her face buried in the sheets, she's barely managing to catch her ragged breaths.
I grab the phone from the nightstand. The name floating over the recording screen:
Dearest Son ❤
My lips curl up on their own.
I grab Ayoung's shoulder as she lies prone and roll her onto her side. Her limp body turns without resistance. Strands of hair drape over half her face, and her one exposed eye stares blankly at the ceiling. I shove the phone screen right in front of her face. Her pupils trace the letters on the display. Shock floods her dazed eyes. Her mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.
Ayoung jerks her head away. She buries her face in the pillow and flails her hand. No, don't answer it. But I press accept right in front of her. Then I turn on the speaker. Her whole body goes rigid, like an electric current's ripping through her. Slowly, her head turns back from the pillow. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. She swallows dryly, forces her trembling jaw still, and squeezes out a voice.
"……Hello?"
"Mom."
Woochan's voice fills the quiet room.
"You feeling okay today?"
Right then, I press my body tight against Ayoung's back as she lies on her side. Her eyes lock on me, watching what I'm doing, and her face drains to ashen gray. Wide-eyed, frozen—no words, no movement. The fact that I'm holding the phone ties her limbs like invisible ropes. Savoring her reaction, I rub my rock-hard cock between her ass cheeks. Every graze makes her back shudder.
Ayoung twists desperately to glare at me, mouthing the words: Stop it. I just smile and slowly rock my hips. The tip of my cock slides lazily over her soaked pussy. Woochan's voice rings out from the receiver again.
"You've been tired lately, right?"
"……I'm fine now."
Ayoung forces her quivering voice steady. To hide her uneven breaths from Woochan, she bites her lip hard, releases, repeats. Her eyes widen. Her head snaps around.
"Wh……why?"
"Thought we'd have dinner together tonight. It's been a while."
Her gaze darts frantically. She whips her head around, searching for something. She wants the clock, but naked on the bed, she can't see one anywhere in the room. Her anxious eyes flick to the nightstand, the wall, back to me. I mouth to her: Plenty of time.
"……When are you coming?"
"Around 6, I think."
Ayoung draws a sharp breath to reply.
"Ah…… o…… tonight—mmph!"
I don't miss the opening. I angle the tip of my cock downward from between her cheeks, line it up with her entrance, and thrust my hips forward.
Schlup.
Slowly but relentlessly, her slick, loosened insides part with almost no resistance. The head pushes through hot walls, burrowing deep. Ayoung's mouth freezes mid-word. She desperately claws back her focus. She grits her teeth, swallows the moan rising in her throat.
"Nngh—!"
"Huh?"
Woochan's questioning voice echoes in the room.
"Ah…… n-no…… nothing."
A crushed sound leaks through her clenched teeth. Tears well in her eyes—she wipes them roughly with the back of her hand. Still buried inside her, I roll my hips in tiny circles. Pressing and grinding deep makes her belly clench in spasms.
"……The…… b-bags…… are…… h-heavy…… y-yeah."
Her words stutter and break. Half-breaths only, struggling to keep the call going while coping with my thick cock stuffing her full. Yeah, must be heavy. I've filled her up completely. I smirk, wrap one arm around her side, grip her tight. I pull out slow, then slam deep again on her inhale. Her inner walls clench and suck at my shaft—pure bliss. Ayoung twists her body. She's thrashing to stifle any sound, grinding her teeth to hold position. But with the phone in my hand, she can't move much. She presses her elbows into the mattress, curling her upper body.
"Be careful. Don't lift anything heavy."
"……Ah…… yeah."
"When are you coming home, Mom?"
Ayoung's head turns slowly toward me. Veins bulge on her neck from swallowing moans—I can see the lump of saliva slide down. I nod slowly at her. Her lips tremble open.
"I-I'll…… be there…… by six."
"Okay."
"S-so…… I gotta…… f-finish…… up quick…… gonna…… hang up."
"See you later."
Click. The call ends. Silence settles over the room again. Only Ayoung's harsh, rapid pants shred it.
She grits her teeth and glares at me.
"You trash…… you bastard."
Her cracked voice drips venom. A single tear traces down her cheek from her eye.
I drag my cock tip along her inner walls and laugh.
"Keep pissing me off like that, and I won't let you go home tonight."
Her expression freezes. Fury cracks, fear spreads across her face, then sinks into wordless despair.
"……Ah."
That single syllable, drained of strength. I savor the look, then lift one of her legs and yank her hips to me. I drive my cock to the hilt.
Thud!
"Hnnngh……!"
Ayoung's back arches sharply, head snapping back. Her whole body tenses taut from the deep stab, then goes slack. Her fingers clutch the sheets, muscles twitching between them. Resentment and pleasure flash across her face. Furrowed brow, wet eyes, half-open lips leaking breaths. The moment she realizes her body's feeling it, disgust pools and overflows in her pupils.
Still buried, I whisper:
"You wanna keep your promise to your son? Means breaking the one with me. That okay?"
Her head turns to me. Conflict ripples over her teary eyes. Dinner with her son, or finish this deal. A scale where choosing one crushes the other.
"……Ah……."
Her lips move, but no words come.
"Your son's waiting."
My soft whisper lands in her ear. Ayoung closes her eyes. Tears stream down between her pinched brows. She doesn't shake me off or push away—just squeezes her lashes tighter.
A woman who values time with her son over her own body. Looking up at that face, I grab one of her breasts. Soft, heavy flesh spills between my fingers. I thumb the nipple, and a short moan slips from her lips.
"Ngh……."
I take that as my cue and start thrusting.
Chp.
"Haah……!"
Chp, chp.
"Nngh…… haat……!"
Pleasure worms through her streaming tears. Even crying, her pussy clamps down wildly, moans shattering between despair and ecstasy with every thrust.
Chp chp chp.
"Haaah……! No…… haang……!"
Ayoung's hands grip the sheets, grab my arm, back to the sheets. Push away or hold on? Hesitant fingers. I ignore it, ramp up the pace. Heavy heat builds deep in my gut again. Her pussy milks me like it's squeezing every drop, pulling me faster. I squeeze her breast harder—her back presses to my chest, body quaking.
Chp chp chp chp.
"Haaang……! Haaaah……!"
Ayoung's scream bounces off the walls. I take it on my back and slam deep one last time.
Plung!
Spurt, spurt.
"Hnnngh……!"
Ayoung's body strings taut. Her back crushes against my chest, arching like a bow, inner thighs convulsing madly as her pussy strangles my cock to the root. Cum blasts through the condom, pounding her cervix, and a sound that's neither scream nor moan erupts from her.
"Aah…… haaaat……."
Her eyes half-roll back, focus gone. Fine tremors rack her body; fingers claw at empty air. Tears streak her cheeks, lips half-parted in a smile. Her face lays bare the moment pleasure breaks her.
I stay buried until the orgasm fades. Only after a while does her breathing steady. Her rolled-back eyes refocus, wet gaze fixing blankly on the ceiling. Then awareness creeps in. Realizing the face she made, the sounds she let out. Her features twist; she grits her teeth. Fresh tears pour from her eyes.
But her body's the opposite. Her insides still won't let go, clenching and releasing lazily. Even post-climax, no more cum to milk, yet her pussy sucks greedily for another drop. I twitch my hips faintly, and a half-swallowed moan leaks out.
"Ngh……."
Ayoung clamps her hand over her mouth. But ragged breaths escape between fingers, and her ass presses back against me involuntarily. She notices. She flinches, tries to pull away—but her clutching walls betray her utterly.
She's crying, no doubt. Wiping tears with her hand, muffling her mouth, desperately silencing herself. But what's leaking out goes beyond sobs. She knows her body still craves this man's cock. Hates me, disgusted, yet addicted to the pleasure I give. Unable to forget.
The phone's red recording light blinks steadily beside us.
Ayoung in the passenger seat stares out the window. Not a word since we left the hotel.
"You're going to see your son—put on a happy face."
She turns. Venom laces her glare instead of a reply. But with makeup covering her cried-out face, her usual weary look is gone—replaced by ripe, mature beauty.
I grin at the road ahead.
"The dress suits you perfectly."
Her eyes drop to her lap. The unfamiliar fabric drapes smoothly over her thighs. The baggy t-shirt and pants she came in? Straight to the hotel trash—after I cut them to shreds. She screamed it was insane at first. Threw the new clothes on the floor. But she couldn't parade the hallway in just a towel. In the end, she gritted her teeth and put on what I gave her.
It fits like a glove. Fabric flows naturally along her bustline, cinches at the waist, hugs softly to her hips. Her hidden curves exposed, she stifled a moan in front of the mirror. Ngh. That face still cracks me up.
"No more sloppy clothes from now on. Wear what I buy you."
"……No. I'm throwing it out."
Quick comeback, but her voice lacks bite. Her head turns deeper toward the window.
"Auntie, you even know how much this costs?"
"……No."
"You couldn't afford it with a month's pay."
Her shoulders twitch.
"Don't like it? Don't wear it. But sell it instead—add to your living expenses."
Fist clenches on the dress. Wants to snap back, but money seals her lips. She just swallows her anger.
As we near the rental apartments, Ayoung suddenly speaks.
"L-let…… me out here."
Urgent tone. Still a few blocks from home, but she ducks her head, glances both ways—like she's terrified someone'll see her getting out of this car. I pull over silently. She scans around, yanks the door handle.
"Take the sushi."
Her hand freezes. Eyes flick to the sushi bento in the back seat, then away. Obvious reluctance.
"Woochan loves sushi, right?"
She starts to refuse, then clamps her mouth shut. Rejection dies at her son's name—I see it clearly. After a beat of silence, she reaches back and grabs the bento. Door open, one foot out, she pauses. Half-turns. Eyes anywhere but me, fixed outside.
"……Th…… thanks. I'll eat well."
So soft it's barely audible. She slams the door and hurries away. I lean back in the driver's seat, watching her back as laughter bursts out.
So innocent, so damn nice—that auntie.
