Chapter 14. You Should've Just Said So~
"And if you're grateful, show it now."
At my words, Ayoung's head snapped up. Her eyes flew wide in shock.
I didn't wait for an answer. I rose from the table, grabbed her wrist, and strode toward the hallway. She twisted away on reflex, but there was no strength behind it. In that instant, her gaze flicked to Woochan's door. Light seeped out from under the closed frame. The sound of drawers opening and closing echoed from inside.
Her resistance cut off cold. The hand that had been wrenching at her wrist now followed mine instead. She couldn't risk getting caught. Better to follow and get it over with quick than dig in her heels here and make a scene.
I shoved open the bathroom door and pushed her inside. I followed, locking it behind us with a click. The sound reverberated in the cramped space.
I pressed her back against the sink. The fluorescent light beneath the mirror bathed the tiny room in stark white.
"D-don't... do this."
It was a trembling whisper. But she didn't twist away or push me off. Her eyes weren't on me—they were fixed on the locked door. Listening for Woochan, straining her ears.
"I'll make it quick."
From behind, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down. White panties came into view. Faded cotton. The elastic had left red welts tracing her ass cheeks.
I hooked my thumbs into the panties and peeled them down too. They clung midway down her thighs, stuck fast. I paused. The crotch was soaked through. Not just sweat.
Once I dragged them to her knees, thin trails glistened along her inner thighs. Pussy juice leaking out, shining clear.
"What the hell. You're already wet."
Ayoung's shoulders jerked. No reply.
"Don't tell me this is from what happened at the mart earlier?"
Her head drooped. Red flushed up the back of her neck. Her hands gripped the sink harder, knuckles whitening—neither denying nor admitting.
The memory of kneeling in that mart bathroom, my cock in her mouth, hadn't faded from her body. Not even through prepping dinner and smiling at her son.
I reached around from behind and slid a finger into her pussy. The slit swallowed it whole, then clamped down tight. Hot and slick. Her juices coated my knuckle, dripping to my palm.
"Don't... not there..."
Head still bowed, she tried to squeeze her thighs shut. They trembled inward, but couldn't push my hand away.
I couldn't help but chuckle. So that's why she'd avoided my eyes all through dinner.
I curled my finger, scraping the inner wall. Her waist bucked.
"Ngh..."
"If you wanted it this bad, you should've just said so."
I pumped slowly in and out. Her pussy sucked me in on every thrust, clung sticky on the pull-out. Her knees quivered inward; she leaned heavier on the sink.
"Ah... no... stop..."
Her mouth said no, but her pussy wouldn't let go. The walls rippled, pulling me deeper. I savored it slow, then leaned to her ear.
"Your mouth lies, but your body's honest."
She clenched her teeth. Turned her head to dodge my gaze, but her earlobe burned red, her arms trembling on the sink.
I withdrew my hand and dropped my pants. Fished a condom from my pocket, rolled it on. Pressed my cock between her ass cheeks and whispered,
"I'm going in."
"Ah..."
Anticipation or surprise? A single syllable, impossible to tell. I savored it as I thrust my hips forward.
Schlup.
No foreplay, straight to the hilt. Soaked to the brim, she parted without resistance. Her walls molded tight around my shape.
"F-faster."
A shaky whisper. Was she scared of Woochan hearing? Or begging for my cock quicker? I was curious, but she looked ready to cry if I teased more, so I let it go.
"Got it."
I gripped her waist with one hand and started pumping. Chup, chup. Juices splattered her inner thighs with every stroke. She clutched the edge, head down, enduring. Lips bitten shut to stifle sound, but thin whimpers leaked on every exhale.
"Ngh... haht..."
Her pussy clenched and released in rhythm, gripping like velvet. Sucking on the outstroke, the depths yielding on the in. Chup, chup, chup.
Once the rhythm hit, her moans shifted. What she'd clenched back now leaked from her nostrils. Neck slack, fingers no longer bone-white on the sink. Somewhere along the line, she stopped just taking it—now she wanted it, hips moving on their own.
"Huht... haht... ngh..."
Her ass nudged back, subtle. Unconscious. She chased my cock on every pullout, oblivious to it herself.
I felt it, smirking as I leaned to her ear.
"Auntie. Look in the mirror."
Her head rose slow. Her eyes met her reflection—flushed cheeks, hazy gaze, lips parted on ragged breaths. Over my thrusting shoulders, her own face melting in pleasure.
She recognized it a beat late. The woman in the mirror: her, in her home bathroom one door from her son, getting railed by her son's friend, face twisted like that.
Her pupils shook.
"Why fight it when you love it this much?"
No answer. She stared blankly at herself. Tears welled in her eyes. Lips quivered like she wanted to speak, but my thrusts turned words to moans.
"Ngh... haat..."
I liked that look. On the verge of tears, drowning in bliss. I slowed the pace, thrust deeper. Her back arched, head dropping toward the mirror—but I caught her chin, lifted it.
"Keep looking."
In the glass, her furrowed brow and wet eyes gazed up at me.
"Ah... no. I... I'm not..."
Words cut off. Her pussy answered first—clenching wild on deep thrusts, sucking desperate on the withdraw. She knew it too. Her body craved, not rejected. The mirror showed it plain.
She tried turning away. I let her chin go—I'd had my fun. Dodging her reflection loosened her up a touch. I filled the gap, ramping speed. Chupchupchup.
Her mouth gaped, but no sound. Arms shook; torso pitched forward.
Then—knock knock.
Ayoung froze in horror. Hands flew to her mouth, breath held. Her back went rigid as a board.
I stayed buried and called toward the door. "What?"
"Oh, you're in the bathroom. Sorry."
Woochan's voice from the other side, footsteps fading. Silence again.
Her hands slid down slow from her mouth. Tears beaded at her eyes.
But inside? Opposite. The second Woochan spoke, her pussy clamped like a vice.
"Why'd you squeeze even tighter?"
"...St-stop..."
Liar. Her ass ground back into me. I grabbed both cheeks, yanked her deep. Plung.
"Ngh—!"
A crushed whimper between teeth. Her depths strangled the root, swallowing whole. I ground slow circles, tip mashing her end. Her belly spasmed.
"Haht... there... ngh..."
There. The word slipped; she clapped a hand over her mouth. Too late. I notched it, pulled out, slammed back at the same angle.
Pluk.
"Eungh—!"
Her back bowed sharp, head snapping back. Eyes half-rolled, whites showing. Teeth ground, breaths heaving.
I kept the angle, stroking slow out, fast in. Chup. Chup. Chupchupchup.
Her pussy went feral with the tempo—clenching to hold me, wet slaps echoing off tiles. One hand muffled her mouth, the other white-knuckled the sink. Tears streaked her face. Terror of her son one door away, pleasure crashing over it—her features contorted.
Yet even crying, her ass didn't falter. Met every thrust, chased every pullout. Mouth begged stop; hips screamed more.
Climax built. I locked her waist double-handed, pistoned hard. Chupchupchupchup.
"Ngh... haht... haat...!"
Her muffling hand slipped, limp. No strength left to hide. Tears trailed furrowed brows, but her half-open lips curved up. Face dissolving in cockbliss. Knowing her son could hear, but unable—unwilling—to stop.
I watched it, then hilted deepest. Heat pulsed through the condom at her core. Hips bucked. Spurt, spurt.
"Huuuht...! Haa... ngh—!"
Her body arced like a bow. Hand rose too late for her mouth—moan exploded. Tremors racked her; knees buckled inward. Juices streamed down her thighs to the tiles.
Still buried, I reached and flushed the toilet. Whoooosh. Roaring water filled the room. Her stifled cries poured out under cover.
"Haat...! Ngh... haaaat..."
She rode it out till the flush died. Teeth ground, fighting sound—but her body betrayed. Only after the last quiver did she slump over the sink, heaving.
I waited out my afterglow, deep inside. Pulled slow; her pussy sucked greedy at the condom. Sticky pop on exit—her legs buckled, slumping against the mirror.
"That was good, Auntie."
Whisper in her ear, then pulled away. No reply. She draped over the sink, ragged breaths ragged.
I knotted the condom, wrapped it in TP, buried it deep in the trash. Pants up. Opened the door—living room quiet. Woochan's door shut.
Knock. "Yeah?"
"Heading out?"
"Yup."
He followed me to the door. "Alright, be safe."
"You too. Get some rest."
"Thanks."
I smirked. As I laced my shoes, the bathroom door creaked at the hall's end. Ayoung emerged, tucking hair behind her ear, forcing normalcy. But traces lingered: sweat-matted bangs, flushed neck, sloppy clothes, hunched awkward stance. Above all, her breathing hadn't settled—shoulders hitching on nose-breaths.
"Mom, Jinho's leaving."
"...H-huh... Y-yeah... Be safe."
Stammering rasp. She shrank half a step behind Woochan, dodging my eyes.
I scanned her slow, then spoke.
"That was fun."
Woochan waved. Ayoung gaped wordless, frozen.
Door shut. Down the stairs, I pulled my phone. Dialed Ayoung. Texted.
No reply on the walk to the lot. But read receipt popped.
I pocketed the phone, grinning.
