Do You Want Me to Cheat?
I swept back Ayoung's sweat-dampened hair. Strands clinging to her forehead caught on my fingertips. She was leaning against my chest, catching her breath. Her cheek pressed to my heart felt scorching hot. I pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, and she burrowed even deeper beneath it. Her arm wrapped around my side.
"Auntie."
"……"
No answer. Instead, a small fist tapped my chest lightly. It had no strength, but the intent was clear.
"Ayoung-ah."
"Yeah."
I chuckled at her little resistance and asked, "Why don't you just stay home and relax? Like the other housewives, hitting up the hair salon or the skin clinic."
Ayoung shook her head. Her cheek rubbed side to side against my chest.
"No way."
"Why not?"
"Because I want to do it."
Her upturned eyes burned with stubborn resolve. She placed her palm on my chest. Her fingers spread out, stroking slowly as if checking my temperature.
"I want you to feel me when you come home."
Her voice was a low whisper. Her hand caressed the center of my chest, inching upward bit by bit. Past my collarbone, fingertips grazing my throat, then brushing my jawline. Her hand paused above my face, cupping my cheek.
"On your bed, at the dinner table—always remembering me."
Her thumb traced slowly over my cheekbone. She held my gaze, unwilling to miss even a second.
"Even when I'm not here... so you'll remember me forever."
Her voice grew thin. The hand cupping my face trembled faintly, but her eyes didn't waver. They held an obsession that bordered on madness. A face determined to etch herself into every corner of my memory, scarred by abandonment. It felt good.
"Then do whatever you want."
Ayoung's eyes lit up. Her face lifted from my chest as she climbed on top of me. Her thighs pressed against my sides. Both hands planted on my chest, her breath hot and close. Our lips met, and her tongue pushed in first, sucking mine, coiling around it, refusing to let go. She craved it deeply, entangling relentlessly, demanding more. Without breaking the kiss, her hand slid downward. Fingers wrapped around my cock. It was half-hard but stiffened fully in her grip. She lifted her hips, guiding it between her legs.
Schlup.
The tip slipped into her parted entrance. Leftover cum and juices coated the head, bubbling with a wet sound. Excess trickled down her thigh.
"Hngh……"
Ayoung's breath burst in my mouth. Her hips began rocking slowly back and forth. Her warmth clenched tight inside. At her own rhythm, her own depth, she swallowed me leisurely. Schlup, slurp. Each time the tip hit deep, her back shivered faintly. But she didn't stop. Gritting her teeth, she rolled her hips, seeking even deeper. Chp, chp, chp. The pace quickened. Her breaths turned to pants. I grabbed her waist, pulling her close. Her breasts crushed against my chest, ragged breaths shattering by my ear.
"Haang…… hngh……"
Her insides milked me like a vise. Her hips spasmed, fighting climax to give me more pleasure. As her walls pulsed like a heartbeat, my release surged to the brink. Spurt. Splurt, splurt. I flooded her deepest core again. Pushing out what was already there, I refilled her womb fresh with my seed. Instantly, Ayoung's back arched like a bow, her body shuddering violently.
"Ah……"
A short gasp escaped. Her arms went slack, and she slowly sank onto my chest. Cheek to skin, her breath spread across me. Still ragged, but slowing bit by bit. I brushed back her hair. My fingers slipping through the damp strands loosened the arm around my back. Our heartbeats overlapped, then gradually merged into one.
--
The bass thrummed up from the floor through my soles. Yejin huddled against the corner sofa, catching her breath. Lights flashed blue and red wildly beyond her glasses. People's silhouettes swayed in the glow. Faces she'd only seen on TV were right in front of her. Sharply dressed men, women laughing and chatting. She kept wondering if she even belonged here. She lifted the glass in front of her, barely touching it to her lips before setting it down. Just enough to wet them. As Jinho had instructed: take whatever they offered, but don't swallow. She repeated it to herself, checking the liquid level at the bottom.
"Why aren't you drinking?"
Harry sat beside her, nudging the glass. His cologne was overpowering.
"Oh, no... my stomach's not feeling great."
Yejin shrugged and forced an awkward smile. She couldn't meet Harry's eyes, her gaze lingering on the glass. Harry's lips curved up. He was smiling, but his eyes weren't. The moment her eyes fixed on the glass, irritation flashed in his—gone in an instant. Yejin didn't notice. Harry stood and walked toward the back of the club, leaving her behind. In a booth, a man with his arm around a woman's waist laughed. He looked up as Harry approached.
"Fuck, why'd you bring that nerdy bitch?"
Harry jerked his chin toward Yejin, grumbling loud enough over the music but inaudible to her. The man patted the woman's back, sending her off, then eyed Harry.
"She was the easiest one available."
"Sigh... kissing ass gets old after a couple times."
"What can you do? We barely smoothed over the last mess, so we reset everything."
Harry clicked his tongue. The man draped his arm over the sofa back, leaning into Harry's shoulder. His voice lowered to blend with the noise.
"But this time, a big new client came through."
"New one?"
"Yeah. Taewook wants to deal. Looks like a crackdown dried up their supply."
Harry's eyes narrowed.
"His dad's a congressman, right?"
"Next election's frontrunner. Hook him right, we can bleed him big."
"Risky."
"You wanna scrape by like a loser forever?"
Harry fell silent for a beat. His gaze flicked to Yejin—huddled in the corner clutching her glass—then back.
"Fine. If we're doing it, do it right."
"That's why I grabbed one more."
The man stood, nodding toward the inner hallway. Harry followed. At the end, the man turned the knob. Inside the cramped room sat Woochan, perched on the sofa edge, hands on his knees, eyes darting uncertainly toward the door.
Harry's lips curled.
"Well, if it isn't Woochan."
Woochan's mouth twitched—not quite a smile, more like muscles barely moving. Harry sat beside him, arm over the backrest, draping behind Woochan's shoulders. Woochan's shoulder jerked up.
"You look stressed. Got something tough going on? Spill."
"Haha... kinda."
"Too awkward to say?"
"Nah, just some stuff at home."
The man returned from the hall with Yejin. Her feet froze at the open door. Her eyes met Woochan's on the sofa. He stiffened too. Identical looks of shock at running into each other here. As Harry started to say something, his phone buzzed. He grabbed the man's arm, nodding meaningfully, and they left. The door shut, muffling the music, leaving the small room quiet.
Woochan spoke first.
"You okay?"
"For now."
Short answer. Yejin sat across from him. She pushed up her glasses, eyes dropping then lifting. They both knew why the other was here—no need to ask.
"You going too?"
Woochan nodded.
"Yeah."
"This weekend, right?"
"Yeah? Guess I'll tag along."
"Probably."
Yejin's gaze drifted to the door. They'd surrendered phones and bags at entry—hers with the bugs included. That was why Jinho paired Woochan with her. Without gear, human eyes and ears were needed.
"Location still unknown?"
"They probably won't tell."
"It'll be fine."
Yejin's lips tightened slightly. Woochan caught it and added hastily,
"H-hey, don't worry."
His voice cracked. Good intentions, but his hands on his knees clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Words and body out of sync. Yejin let out a small laugh.
"It's fine. Jinho's got it handled."
"...Yeah."
Woochan's shoulders slumped. Silence fell. Only the distant bass thudded from the hall. Yejin eyed him.
"No way—you jealous of Jinho?"
Woochan's face flushed. It spread from his earlobes.
"Hey, compare apples to apples."
"I know."
Yejin peered over her glasses.
"Just do your job. People like us and Jinho? Totally different worlds."
"Us?"
"You and me."
Flat tone. Woochan opened his mouth, closed it. Yejin continued.
"Don't be an idiot."
"You talk different to Jinho than to me."
"He's scary."
"Sc... scary?"
Woochan tilted his head, murmuring unconsciously as he recalled Jinho with Ayoung.
"Maybe you're not his type."
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
Weekend. As soon as Kim Jinhee slid into the passenger seat, she wrinkled her nose. Her brows furrowed, one eye squinting at me.
"What? You already did it?"
"Smell something?"
"Your scent's so strong, that's why."
"You remember it that well? Guess you like my smell."
"N-no!"
She whipped her head away, yelling. Ears red as she glared out the window. I ignored her and started the engine. Before leaving, I'd told Ayoung about my plans today—her lips had pouted. First weekend together, and I'd leave her alone? So I'd hugged her one more time right before going. She'd grabbed my arm first, but her jealousy was cute, so I let it happen. Jinhee sniffed it out the second she sat down—hilarious.
"You didn't tell her you're with me, right?"
"Who?"
"Th-that... lady."
"Which lady?"
Jinhee's eyes wavered. Her lips worked silently before sound came out.
"Woochan's mom."
"Oh, told her straight up."
"What? Why!"
"What's the big deal."
"...Hah... seriously."
Long sigh. She raised her hand like to smack my grip on the wheel, then just clenched her fist on her lap.
"Why? Can't I say?"
"No... it's just weird."
"What's weird."
"Th-that... ugh, do I have to spell it out."
"She won't know if I don't."
"Come on, two-timing isn't normal."
Her voice rose. But she shut her own mouth first at her words. Swallowed, gaze fleeing to the window.
"Two-timing? It's a contract, isn't it."
Jinhee's mouth snapped shut. Her eyes stayed on the window.
"...Right. A contract."
Her voice sank. She took my words at face value, but her expression soured.
"What? You hoping I'd cheat with my teacher?"
Her head snapped back. Eyes widened, then glared.
"What the hell, you trash."
Her words burst my laugh. I yanked the wheel, heading to the spot Woochan and Yejin mentioned.