008. D-Class Fitness Scandal (Cha Ye-rin)
008. D-Class Fitness Scandal (Cha Ye-rin)
The air in Ether had changed subtly from the day before.
Yesterday, rumors had spread not only within the center but also quietly among the clientele that Kim Hye-jin, known even among VVIPs for being difficult to please, had left behind words of high praise.
Though there were two masseurs, the gazes directed at Song Jae-pil even by the center's support staff were a tangled mix of emotions like envy and anticipation.
But Song Jae-pil was not the least bit concerned with their stares. He stared intently at the profile of his newly assigned samonim for today, Oh Yu-ra.
'The target is a minimum of 2, a maximum of 4. Being a D-Class Catalog, it awards few points. I should get everything I possibly can.'
Of course, he couldn't drag it out indefinitely. It would be more beneficial to quickly achieve the objective and challenge a higher-level catalog.
[Client Name: Oh Yu-ra (28 years old). Former model, influencer. Spouse of a third-generation chaebol heir.]
After Oh Yu-ra had left, her body in a blissful, languid state, only the lingering scent of a pungent night flower and massage oil remained in the massage room.
Song Jae-pil silently straightened the sheets, picked up the discarded disposable items from the floor, and mopped the floor with water.
But all his focus was drawn to the large mirror that covered one entire wall.
'It's strange, I tell you.'
Roaming around the massage rooms at Ether, he had discovered a strange commonality. There were four rooms centered around a central waiting area.
The layout was shaped like a 'ㄷ', and each room had a large mirror installed.
And the position of each mirror seemed to be precisely at the point where the central massage bed was clearly visible.
Putting down the towel, he slowly approached the mirror. The miscellaneous knowledge he'd seen online somewhere and his sharp instincts were telling him something was off.
Thud, thud.
He lightly tapped the very center of the mirror with his knuckle. The resonant sound that came back was too clear for a soundproofed wall. It was different from an ordinary mirror backed by a solid wall.
Just as he'd seen online, he brought the tip of his index finger right up against the surface of the mirror.
With a normal mirror, there should be a tiny gap, equivalent to the thickness of the glass, between the fingertip and the fingertip reflected inside the mirror. But.
"...As I thought."
The fingertip in the mirror and his actual fingertip were perfectly aligned as if drawn together by magnets.
A Magic Mirror. A one-way viewing window, a dedicated voyeuristic glass pane where the other side could see this side clearly.
Song Jae-pil recalled Cha Ye-rin's face, that cold, transparent expression of hers, that unique look of disgust for men.
The fact that while putting on that front, she had been watching from behind, enjoying the spectacle of him having sex with the samonims, flashed through his mind.
"That sly bitch. So you were enjoying it like this from the back, huh?"
His interest was piqued. The thought that Cha Ye-rin, who had treated him like trash and only looked for chances to kick him out, had in fact been watching his beastly acts in real time.
"This is interesting. Very interesting."
For a long while, Song Jae-pil stared at his own reflection in the mirror and smirked. It seemed he had gained another weapon.
A few days later, Cha Ye-rin assigned him another new client. It was an action meant as an attack on her part, but for Song Jae-pil, it was a very welcome development.
This meant he now had three married women among his conquest targets. He only needed to completely conquer one more to increase his points accordingly.
"It's Han Seol-hee samonim. Wow... The director must really trust you, Mr. Song Jae-pil? To assign you difficult clients three times in a row like this..."
"Yeah, right."
At those words, Song Jae-pil chuckled and nodded.
"Seems like she trusts me a great deal."
[Han Seol-hee (32 years old). Spouse of the representative of Korea's largest law firm. Possesses mysophobia (fear of germs/contamination) and a cynical personality.]
"Ugh, she's a really tough one. You have to be careful with anything you touch, she gets angry over the smallest mistake. A total ice queen."
But Song Jae-pil believed that defense mechanisms like mysophobia were usually just a curtain to hide the most sordid reality.
'She's definitely holding her breath on the other side of the mirror again today. Waiting to catch any slip-up she can.'
The more intense her surveillance became, the more stimulating the performance he needed to show had to be.
Han Seol-hee, who entered the room, had an elegant, news-anchor style about her, but every single expression and gesture strongly conveyed that she was a wealthy housewife.
"You did disinfect the linens thoroughly, right? I'll leave immediately if there's even the slightest unpleasant smell, so be aware. Don't pant like some beast."
But isn't it ridiculous? That someone like her would seek out this kind of cock massage in the first place?
That someone who seems so clean and obsessive-compulsive like that.
A secret place to get fucked by a cock whose owner she doesn't even know?
And he recalled one line from the file.
[Her husband, the representative attorney of a major domestic law firm, is famous in this industry for his infidelity.]
Han Seol-hee is absolutely not a woman with an obsessive-compulsive disorder. She's just pretending.
With that thought, Song Jae-pil glanced at the mirror where Cha Ye-rin might be watching.
Was Cha Ye-rin really over there right now, or not.
Song Jae-pil grinned and began Han Seol-hee's massage. Very carefully, cautiously. Where exactly was Han Seol-hee's sensitive point?
"Mmmnh... good."
Song Jae-pil couldn't help but grin. Because Han Seol-hee let out a moan every time he pressed a certain spot.
Song Jae-pil checked her reactions as if conducting an experiment.
Squish- Squish-
As he poked her pussy with his hand, stimulating the area near her urethra, her face turned so red it couldn't get any redder.
Sploosh-
A stream of liquid shot out from her pussy, spread wide in an M-shape, and fell down.
"S-stop that...."
Han Seol-hee tried to stop the massage, overcome by shame, but.
Sploooshhh- Pshhht-!
Song Jae-pil's hand was faster, and a long stream of liquid poured from her pussy as if she were pissing.
"Hhaaaang-!"
Shiver-
Han Seol-hee trembled all over and tried to cover her face, but since Song Jae-pil was holding both her hands, all she could do was writhe her body.
'Good, good... to come like this in front of a massage therapist I don't know... I feel like I'm going crazy.'
But Song Jae-pil didn't stop there.
Lick- Slurp-
He buried his face right into Han Seol-hee's pussy and started licking.
As he stuck his tongue inside her cleanly managed, shaved pussy and began rubbing her clit with one hand.
"Ah, aahng-! It's dirty...."
Far from pushing Song Jae-pil away, Han Seol-hee hugged his face, which was buried in her crotch.
'A bitch pretending to have an obsessive-compulsive disorder.'
And when the time for insertion came, Song Jae-pil deliberately shoved his cock into her womb, literally thrusting it in.
And then he started stabbing his cock into her as if to shatter her womb.
"Ugkkgk...❤️"
But what came back was not anger, but a moan filled with ecstasy. Simultaneously, before she could even react, he snatched her slender wrist.
"Wh-what are you...!"
"It's part of the massage. My massage prioritizes the client's satisfaction. Will you trust me and leave it to me?"
Han Seol-hee's pupils shook as if an earthquake had struck. She felt as if her inner thoughts had been completely exposed.
Whether from shame or another reason, her face flushed red, and Song Jae-pil began ruthlessly exploring her body.
"Haahp-"
Chup- Sllurp-
Han Seol-hee was now licking Song Jae-pil's finger, which had entered her mouth at some point, as diligently as if it were his cock.
Smack-
"Kyhaheung...❤️"
As he slapped her ass, her pussy contracted as if startled and began gripping his cock even tighter.
"That's it, this. I like this kind of massage aahhhaang!"
As Han Seol-hee spat out something indistinguishable between words and moans, Song Jae-pil lifted her up and repositioned them in front of the mirror.
"Madam, your expression is quite something to see."
With those words, Song Jae-pil stared directly at the mirror. He grabbed a handful of Han Seol-hee's hair with one hand.
"Hahk, hak- hak-!"
And forced her face to turn toward the mirror.
"You look beautiful, Han Seol-hee-ssi. Your expression is lovely."
"Make me... break me down even more..."
Song Jae-pil's actions held no restraint. As if telling any rules to go fuck themselves, he licked in a long line from the nape of her neck to the curve of her ear. Then, he bit and sucked on her chest, leaving red marks.
With the conviction that Cha Ye-rin was watching from beyond the mirror, he violated Han Seol-hee's pussy, staring intently through the mirror as if drilling into Cha Ye-rin herself.
"Ahhhhk! Ah, ah... Aahhht!"
Han Seol-hee's sharp scream filled the massage room. She couldn't move as she wished. Both her hands were held fast by Song Jae-pil's, and she was pinned against the mirror.
Because from behind, Song Jae-pil's dick was mercilessly pounding into her, feeling like it would shatter the deepest parts of her womb.
"Break me... break me down even more, I beg you...!"
The usual elegant composure was nowhere to be found. Han Seol-hee wailed wretchedly, drool dripping down.
"Wha... what on earth is this..."
As Song Jae-pil had anticipated, Cha Ye-rin, watching this scene from beyond the Magic Mirror, took a step back, feeling as though her heart had sunk.
From beyond the Magic Mirror, she witnessed Han Seol-hee breaking down like an animal, goosebumps rising all over her body.
And then there was Song Jae-pil's gaze. He was surely looking straight at the mirror, but it felt just like he was looking directly at her.
'Disgusting. A filthy gigolo, how dare he look at me like that...'
But her hand had already, without her realizing, moved up over her yoga wear. The burning heat pushing its way between her own thighs had become unbearably intense.
Her self-esteem was beginning to crumble to dust because of this sudden existence named Song Jae-pil.
The storm-like lovemaking ended.
On Han Seol-hee's face, instead of the cool smirk, an unfamiliar flush of vitality swirled redly.
Having finished her shower, she emerged with an expression as clear and flushed as a child's, not stopping her sticky-eyed gazes toward Song Jae-pil.
"You have an eye for talent, Cha-sajang? You hired a good masseur this time. The quality keeps getting better and better."
"Yes... I'm glad you're satisfied, Madam."
Cha Ye-rin's reply was small, as if it would creep away. Han Seol-hee repeatedly sang Song Jae-pil's praises, even throwing in a pointed joke that the real class of Aether was alive thanks to Masseur Song, before finally taking her leave.
Alone in the lobby, Cha Ye-rin leaned her head against the wall, breathing in ragged gasps. The scenes she had just witnessed beyond the mirror wouldn't leave her mind. That obscene smile as he looked at the mirror and laughed.
Just then, Song Jae-pil, having finished tidying up the massage room, walked out into the hallway.
"Greetings."
He was about to walk past Cha Ye-rin, who was leaning against the wall, but stopped. For some reason, Cha Ye-rin kept her head bowed, avoiding his gaze.
So, Song Jae-pil roughly lifted her chin.
"......!"
Cha Ye-rin's pupils were soaked with terror and shame. But Song Jae-pil leaned his head close to her face.
The hot heat he felt from her breath, the lingering traces of arousal she hadn't fully tidied away, brushed against the tip of his nose.
"What are you doing!"
"Director Cha Ye-rin."
"Let... let go of this."
"Your face is very red. Is the room temperature too high? Or... is it another problem?"
Cha Ye-rin's lips trembled faintly. She intuited he knew everything. No, she was certain.
Song Jae-pil brought his lips right next to her ear and whispered covertly.
"In the future, you'd better decide whether to pay a separate viewing fee or just step down from the audience seat and onto the stage yourself."
"You...!"
Without waiting for her reply, Song Jae-pil gave a cold sneer, walked past her, and left her alone in the hallway. Cha Ye-rin's legs gave out, and she almost collapsed on the spot.