The Thirsty Digs the Well
I trapped her stiff nipple between my teeth and rolled it slowly with the tip of my tongue. Each time I dragged my broad tongue slickly upward, a faint tremor rippled through Ayoung's slender waist.
"Hngh… haa, hnn…."
The hands that had been pushing against my chest had long since lost their strength. Her arms, which she'd braced desperately to hold out, gradually lost their angle until they draped limply over my shoulders, blurring the line between shoving me away and clinging to me. Her mind might be fiercely rejecting this in her head, but her body had surrendered long ago.
I clamped down gently on the engorged nipple and pulled downward long and slow. When the taut tip finally slipped free from between my teeth and snapped back with elastic rebound, her heavy breast jiggled enticingly. Without giving her a moment's respite, I gripped the other mound firmly with my free hand. The pale, soft flesh oozed plushly between my fingers.
"Ah… ahn, it hurts, hnn…!"
Just as a sharp cry threatened to burst out, Ayoung's hands shot up like lightning to clamp over her mouth. Her breath leaked through the gaps between her fingers, and her teary eyes darted wildly toward the thin wall beyond. On the other side of that flimsy plywood was Woochan's room. Terror flickered in her wide-open pupils.
In a cheap rental apartment like this, soundproofing was a joke. Even the neighbors' TV noise seeped through—if her moans got any louder, they might wake the sleeping Woochan.
I savored her precarious expression leisurely as I licked her nipple upward with the tip of my tongue. The fury that wanted to tear me apart right then and there, the illicit sensations stubbornly rising beneath her skin, the vicious anxiety that her son might wake. It was quite the sight, watching those three emotions clash without yielding, painting her face in vivid hues.
I lifted my head and buried my nose deep in the white nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply brought a rush of cheap body wash scent, laced subtly with her natural aroma. Simple like a towel freshly dried in the sun, yet mysteriously whetting a man's appetite in a way no perfumed young girl could match.
Her delicate downy hairs tickled my nostrils, and I extended my tongue long, licking slickly up the smooth column of her throat from bottom to top. Slurp, slrrp. Saliva glistened on her heated skin, producing low, wet friction sounds.
"Hngh… haa…."
A stifled moan slipped helplessly from between her tightly pressed lips. Her head tilted away from me at a slant, exposing the pale curve of her neck even more defenselessly. Perfect submission. She probably didn't even realize it herself, but that was as good as blatant permission to handle her body however I pleased.
I pressed my lips to the inner nape and sucked hard, like a vacuum on her tender flesh. Thin skin stretched taut into my mouth, the dull pressure of blood rushing in sending thrills through me. Smooch, schlop. When I pulled away, a vivid purple hickey bloomed on her snow-white skin like a brand. By tomorrow, it'd darken even more brazenly. Perfectly positioned to draw eyes if she wore anything with even a hint of a neckline.
"D-don't… ha… stop."
Faint anger laced her suppressed voice, but her body froze rigid, not twitching an inch. A shallow rejection, all talk. Powerless, sweet defiance that couldn't even muster a single finger's movement.
Mocking that feeble permission, I slid my hand languidly down over her slacks. Stroking stickily from the outer thigh inward, my fingertips delving between her legs met the damp warmth seeping through thin fabric. The light gray slacks were soaked embarrassingly through.
"Your body and words are saying completely opposite things."
I pressed my finger firmly against the sodden cloth and flicked up. Ayoung's slim waist jerked upward as if electrocuted.
"Ngh, hngh…!"
I seized the wet slacks and panties together and yanked them down past her thighs in one swift motion. Clear trails trickled down her inner thighs, gleaming lewdly under the dim fluorescent light. I brought my fingertip to the slick, secret crevice. Just a light brush, and the feverishly aroused flesh clung greedily, sucking at my finger like a starved beast.
In response to that blatant welcome, I eased the first knuckle in slowly. Hot, slippery walls enveloped it seamlessly. Even after I'd mercilessly stretched her with my thick shaft just days ago, the tight passage had snapped right back—clenching so snugly around a single finger that it struggled to yield.
I curled the inserted knuckle round, scraping upward against the most swollen, sensitive ridge.
"Haat…! Ngh!"
Ayoung's waist snapped upward into the air like a drawn bowstring. No trace of pain in her wide eyes—instead, shock at the sharp pleasure exploding from within.
She hurriedly clapped her hands over her mouth again, glancing anxiously at the wall. Dead silence. No hint of stirring from Woochan's room beyond.
"N-no… please… hnn, stop…."
Her plea squeezed out, half-melted in her throat. Instead of answering, I added my index finger, wedging two digits side by side into the breach. Pop, squelch. Pent-up nectar gushed out, spitting sticky friction noises.
I spread my fingers, stretching the narrow walls left and right, kneading deep inside meticulously. Ayoung's thighs began quivering uncontrollably. Breaths bursting through clenched teeth grew ragged; her limp legs clenched and released my wrist in endless alternation.
"Aa… hngh… there, ngh, feels weird…."
Hot, aroused moans leaked steadily between the white fingers muffling her mouth. The melted inner flesh greedily milked my two fingers, binding them tight, refusing release. I slowly withdrew them and lowered my head between her wet thighs.
Grasping her inner knees, I spread them wide and looked up once. Her pleasure-flushed face under the light, hands desperately sealing her lips.
"Ever tried this before?"
"…What?"
Her half-lidded gaze finally registered my position, her face twisting in horror.
"D-dirty… don't, ngh…."
The instant my tongue tip touched her, her lower body bucked spasmodically. I hooked her flailing legs over my shoulders and pinned her thighs down.
"Scream like that, and you'll wake Woochan."
Her body went rigid at those words. Jaw trembling, eyes squeezed shut. Hands gathered the blanket folds and pressed them firmly over her mouth.
I loved the sight. My tongue tip traced slowly upward along the parted flesh from bottom to top. Parting thin folds with my tongue's flat, I found the hidden clit. Pearl-sized and rigidly swollen, it caught hard against my tongue pad.
I swept broadly over it with my whole tongue. Licking upward in steady rhythm, then breaking it—lips capturing the nub, sucking softly while rolling it. When I grazed it lightly with my teeth through saliva-slick lips, Ayoung's head snapped back.
Fingers twisted the blanket white-knuckled; from beneath came deep-throated, muffled sobs vibrating in layers.
Right then—gush.
Hot, clear nectar poured over my face.
"Ha… ah…."
Her quivering thighs clamped my ears like a vice, then went slack. In the aftershocks rippling through her body, the breaths bursting from under the blanket were near-sobs.
I wiped my jaw roughly with the back of my hand and rose. Sitting slantwise on the bed's edge, I stripped off her slacks and panties completely. Ayoung clutched her heaving chest, struggling to catch her breath.
The moment my cockhead nestled against her soaked entrance, clarity flashed in her hazy eyes. She bolted upright reflexively, shoving my chest with both hands.
"C-condom."
Desperation cut like a blade through her locked throat.
"Ah, but I don't wanna."
I tossed it out lazily, and her face drained pale.
"P-please…."
Those two words carried her entire weight. I drew a leisurely smile across my wet lips and picked up the wrapper from the bedside. Dangling it teasingly before her eyes, I placed it gently atop her trembling hand.
"The thirsty man digs the well, right?"
"…."
Her eyes shook violently. Humiliation clashed with relief; trembling lips clamped shut. She struggled upright onto the bed and crawled fumblingly toward me.
Her fingers shook nonstop around the wrapper. She hooked her nail on the serrated edge to tear it, but the slick packet slipped repeatedly. On the third try, she finally extracted the condom and brought it shakily to my precum-dripping glans.
But her hand froze there. Clumsy motions, unsure of orientation or which side faced out. She knew what a condom was, but had clearly never handled one herself.
"Rip it or something, and it's not my problem."
I quipped, and her face went sheet-white.
"Ah… th-then…."
I chuckled low, gently grasping her quivering hand. Aligning it properly at the tip, I overlaid her fingers with mine and rolled it slowly down the shaft. As the thin sheath unfurled along my girth, her overlapped fingers twitched faintly.
These little details matter. Building the foundation so she trusts my words, leans on the hand I offer. The man who keeps promises, who grabs her in danger. Cliché script, but to a woman who's shunned men for years, it'll be sweeter poison than candy.
Once it was seated to the root, I eased her shoulders down—not roughly—onto the mattress. Aligning my hips between her spread legs, I pinned her knees outward. Even through the thin barrier, sticky heat wafted vividly from her entrance.
"Here I go, then."
"Ngh…."
Ayoung squeezed her eyes shut. Her whole body shuddered, but this time she didn't try to flee. Clutching blanket folds over her mouth with both hands, she braced her clenched jaw in grim resignation, as if accepting what was coming.
Unlike before, I pressed only the tip in and eased forward very, very slowly. No rush. More seeping than thrusting—a slow, persistent penetration.
Squelch. The head parted slick folds, sinking in an inch. Ayoung's breath hitched short, then trembled back.
"Ah… ngh…."
I held there, not pushing deeper. Shallow thrusts, languid in and out, rubbing the sensitive rim around her entrance with the tip. Even through the latex, dense flesh clenched in endless spasms—unclear if welcoming or repelling.
Squelch, slrp. Inch by inch. Adding depth gradually, advancing one breath at a time. No brutal impalement like last time—just a creeping, tactile glide over her inner walls.
"Ngh… hngh… ah…."
Pain's furrow eased from between her brows. No scream from sudden invasion, no rigid grimace from foreign intrusion. Instead, waves of sensation rising slow from below stripped layers from her expression. Lids fluttered open; clenched teeth parted, leaking wet breaths.
Slrp, slrp, chp.
Halfway in, the grip inside thickened intensely. Dense walls molded tightly to my shape, squeezing—not the reluctant tension from before, but a yielding contraction, swallowing me like submission.
Ayoung's eyes opened. Confusion flooded her half-lidded gaze staring into space. The expected pain was absent. Instead, dull electric thrills spreading from deep in her belly—the very sensation she'd desperately denied nights ago—rapidly overtook her body.
Her lips parted and closed repeatedly. It should hurt, but it didn't. She should hate it, but her body didn't resist. That truth twisted her face more cruelly than any physical agony.
I paused an inch from the hilt, gazing down at her crumbling expression.
