Chapter 22: The Ajumma Who Drives Me Crazy
Ayoung's breathing took a while to settle. The air inside the tent hung heavy and humid. Love juices smeared across the floor, a used condom discarded nearby, her dress hiked up to her waist. Through strands of hair plastered to her forehead, her dazed eyes stared at the ceiling. Each ragged breath made her exposed breasts rise and fall, and when my hand brushed her stomach, her thighs clenched instinctively. A reaction fully conditioned by my touch.
"Rest up before you come out."
Ayoung's eyelids slowly drooped. I spread a blanket over her from shoulders to knees. Red bite marks stood out starkly below her neck. I unzipped the tent flap and stepped out, cool outdoor air hitting my face. The heat built up inside dissipated at once as I sank into a chair and stretched out my legs. Petals floated across the lake surface.
Footsteps approached. Woochan was coming from the walking path, holding two Americanos in one hand.
"Where's Mom?"
"Inside."
Woochan nodded and started toward the tent. Before he could reach the zipper, I shot out my arm to block him.
"She's sleeping."
"Huh? Wait, I need to tell her—"
"She's sleeping."
Woochan's body halted against my arm. He looked up at me, bewildered, his face saying he had no idea why I was stopping him. I kept my arm extended, gazing down. He opened his mouth, closed it, then took a step back and cautiously perched on the chair beside me.
I always made a point of doing it outdoors for the thrill, but I had zero intention of letting anyone glimpse my woman—not even a speck. It was just the excitement that got me.
"You call Yejin?"
"Uh? Oh... yeah."
Woochan fiddled with his canned drink, head bowed. The tips of his ears were red. Earlier, when I'd excused myself to the bathroom, I'd texted him: Call Yejin. She's probably bored. That one message had gotten him out for a walk as an excuse, and he'd taken his sweet time coming back. A long call meant something was building between them. Not bad at all. If these two got just close enough, Woochan would spend more time out of the house. Which meant more alone time for me and Ayoung.
"Thanks."
The words came out of nowhere. I just grinned in response.
"No big deal."
A breeze swept over the lake, piling petals on the water. The tent zipper rasped open from inside. Ayoung poked her head out. She'd buttoned her cardigan and straightened her clothes, but the flush still lingered on her face. Her gaze went straight to Woochan, guilt spreading across her features.
"Sorry, Mom must've been tired."
"Nah, it's fine. That's what days off are for."
Woochan smiled casually. I stood and peeked inside the tent. The floor looked hastily tidied. Ayoung must've cleaned up the evidence before coming out.
"Shall we head home?"
"Yeah."
Ayoung nodded.
"But since we're already out here, how about a drive first?"
"A drive?"
"Gotta try it out in a car like this, right?"
Woochan nodded eagerly. Ayoung didn't say anything but didn't object either. I started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. The road curved around the lake, cherry trees lining both sides. Petals brushed the windshield, sticking under the wipers. I picked up speed. The exhaust growled low as the scenery rushed by behind us. From the back, Woochan let out an "Whoa..." and pressed his face to the window.
A moment later, I checked the rearview. Woochan's head lolled against the glass. Ayoung glanced up at the mirror, then twisted toward him. From the passenger seat, she stretched out her arm—even though she couldn't reach—her eyes brimming with worry.
That look irritated me.
"This punk rides in my car for free and just passes out."
Ayoung whipped back around. "He... he must be tired. Sorry."
The doting-mom act. I didn't like her attention fixed on that kid. I pulled over on a side road. Trees lined both sides of the shoulder.
"Since your son's slacking off, guess Mom has to make it up for him."
"...Huh?"
I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. Ayoung's eyes dropped to it.
"Use your mouth."
"R... right now?"
She flicked a glance at the rearview. Woochan's sleeping face reflected back. Her head turned, eyes locking on my cock. A pleading glint flickered in her gaze as she looked up.
"Guess that's all I'm worth to you."
"N... no, it's not like that."
She bit her lip. Her eyes darted between the mirror and me before settling downward. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over. Cautiously, she lowered her upper body between my thighs.
---
What the hell was she about to do right now?
Her son was asleep in the back seat. Just a head turn away. Yet here she was, bending over, bringing her face between her son's friend's legs.
She was insane. Truly lost it.
Why couldn't she refuse? One word—"No," "We can't"—and it'd be done. But she accepted what he demanded, her body moving on its own.
As she leaned in, a thick scent filled her nostrils. The raw trace of their tangle in the tent still clung to it. She should feel disgusted—that would be normal—but she couldn't shake it off. It was the smell of the man who'd filled her, pinned her down, flipped her inside out, made her sob, and ultimately left her clinging to him.
A scent she'd grown all too familiar with. And those eyes looking down at her. She couldn't deny the expectant gaze. She wanted to grant him everything he asked for.
Ayoung pressed her lips lightly to the tip. A soft smack. She parted her lips carefully, enveloping the head, warm flesh flooding her mouth with heat. She teased the slit with her tongue tip, slowly tightening her lips to savor it. What had been so rigid and scorching inside her felt incredibly soft and tender now. Tapping the head lightly made it quiver faintly, so she pursed her lips like sucking candy and drew it in with a slurp.
Schlup.
"Hoo..."
Jinho's low breath came from above. Pride swelled in her chest at the reaction. She pushed her lips deeper. Sliding slowly down the shaft, a rustle sounded from behind.
Her body froze. Her heart pounded wildly. She glanced back—Woochan had just shifted his head in his sleep. Silence returned.
The weight in her mouth pressed heavily on her tongue. She steadied her breath and resumed. This time, she pulled off and licked broad strokes up the side from base to tip. Salty and musky flavors spread as she probed the slit at the top. Slurp.
"Good."
His short praise sent a tingle through her. She moved more carefully, more thoroughly. Lips folded inward to avoid teeth, she took the head deep—the root pushed to her throat, pressing hard. She could barely breathe. Supporting it with her tongue, gasping through her nose, but the throbbing in her lower belly hit first. Schlup, slurp.
Twice in the tent, yet her insides hungered again. Each suck made her clench down there. She wanted this too. Her head bobbed faster. It thickened and hardened in her mouth; wrapping her tongue around the shaft and sucking drew subtle tension in Jinho's thighs. Slurp, slurp, slurp.
The wet sounds echoed in the confined car. What if Woochan heard? But she couldn't stop. It was coming. The tip swelled—she quickened, took it deeper in anticipation. The hand on her head pressed her nape gently, thrusting to the hilt. Spurt.Splurt.
Hot jets battered deep in her throat. Vision whitening, too much to swallow at once poured in; she worked her throat before it overflowed. Gulp.Gulp.
More followed. The musky taste coated her tongue, cough rising, but she clenched her jaw and swallowed. Her nose stung. Still, she didn't pull away. She milked the shaft with her lips, lapping remnants, sucking the last drop from the tip. Schlup.
Jinho's hand stroked her hair in satisfaction, fingers trailing from behind her ear to her neck—bliss for reasons she couldn't fathom. She sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Did you swallow it all?"
"...Yeah."
"Open up."
She parted her lips; he peered inside. Pride at perfectly obeying swelled, a smile breaking through.
"Haaah—"
A yawn exploded from behind. Her loosened body snapped rigid.
"Huh? Mom?"
"Sl... slept well?"
Her voice cracked. Swallowing, the lingering texture slid down her throat.
Woochan sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "What is that smell?"
Her heart plummeted. Before she could speak, Jinho cut in.
"I'm driving all day, and this guy's just snoring away."
Woochan flinched, ducking his head. "S... sorry."
"Yeah, you were snoring loud."
Only after the words left did she realize—she'd taken Jinho's side. Woochan looked up at her, eyes widening briefly before drooping in defeat.
"...Sorry."
Her chest stabbed. But the words were out, and sitting beside Jinho had pulled them from her.
"Shall we get going again?"
Jinho asked, glancing her way. She nodded demurely. The engine roared to life, the car merging back onto the road. Woochan stared out the window, Jinho at the road ahead. Ayoung alone gazed at her hands in her lap.
The weight and heat from her mouth still lingered on her tongue.
The car parked near the house. I got out first; Woochan followed, stretching.
She had to go. Get out. Turn away.
"Hey."
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
"How about dinner together?"
Jinho grinned. Heat surged fiercely in her lower belly at that smile.
---
Side dishes covered the table. Nothing fancy—rolled omelet, kimchi, soybean paste stew. A few store-bought containers. But canned beers sat in the center.
Ayoung slid one to Woochan. "It's been a while since we had a family drink."
Family. She used the word again. And this time, she said it first. Woochan popped his with an "Ooh, nice." She offered me one too. I took it, meeting her eyes. They clashed; she jerked her head away, ears red. Too transparent.
Her plan to get her son drunk and out was laid bare on the table. Only I knew two cans would knock him flat. This ajumma had fully returned to being a woman before mother.
I sipped my beer, savoring the sight. Ayoung's spoon work was sloppy. Her hands trembled whenever she felt my gaze. Oblivious, Woochan stuffed omelet in his mouth and cracked his second can.
"Mom, you've seemed happier lately."
"R... really?"
"Yeah. Your face is brighter than before."
Ayoung clutched her can with both hands, head down. I knew exactly why she was glowing.
Woochan drained his second, eyes glazing. He yawned, setting down his spoon.
"I... I'm kinda sleepy."
"Go to bed if you're tired."
Ayoung jumped in, voice pitched high with tension.
"Yeah... Jinho, I'm heading out first."
"Sure."
Woochan staggered up and into his room. The door shut; bed springs creaked inside. Then silence.
Just me and Ayoung at the table. Watching her fiddle with her can, I spoke.
"That's a bit much, isn't it?"
"N... no."
She rolled her finger over the can, eyes down. Embarrassed, but her lips twitched upward faintly. No intention of arguing what "much" meant. I stood.
"Shall we go in?"
She looked up. Her eyes shook over flushed cheeks.
"...Yeah."
In the hallway, Woochan's door was shut to the left. No light seeped under. He was out cold. I stopped at the master bedroom door. Ayoung's footsteps followed.
She'd noticed my gaze on his door and murmured softly, like an excuse unasked for.
"...Once he's out, he doesn't wake easy."
I opened the bedroom door and entered. She followed, closing it. Click. The lock engaged. I yanked her hand, pulling her body to mine. As I lowered my lips, she closed her eyes first and offered her tongue. Schlup.
I pulled back, stepping away to look her over. The dress I'd bought clung to her curves under the light.
"You wore it well today."
"Th... thanks."
She clutched then released the hem. Eyes down, then up to meet mine shyly.
"Not putting you to sleep tonight."
"...Yeah. I took the day off tomorrow."
Her answer drew a smirk from me. This ajumma really drove me crazy.
