Reunion (1)
It was nearly midnight, yet the streets still thronged with young people.
I stood between the buildings, waiting for my e-cigarette to heat up, and watched the crowd. Across the way, the trendy bar was packed solid—every table taken, as if social distancing had never existed—and a long line of people waiting outside stretched down the sidewalk. The entrance to the club alley was just as crowded. You could finally feel it: the COVID restrictions were slowly lifting.
Looking at the women in outfits that were half-naked in all but name, I could tell summer was almost here. Especially this close to the club alley, bare legs barely counted as modest.
Mini dresses that might as well have been nightgowns, sexy tailored suits, dolphin shorts, skin-tight leggings in every color, short-sleeved crop tops… Just watching them made something heavy settle low in my gut.
Because of COVID, I’d had no choice but to keep my distance from nightlife. If I caught it while out partying… this was a god-tier job I’d clawed my way into. I couldn’t risk the humiliation of a disciplinary write-up or having to quit.
But solo hand jobs only go so far for a day or two. After Dong-min hyung had introduced me to the taste of so many different women, my body itched with need I couldn’t ignore. I’d tried a few blind dates, but those evenings only taught me that what I needed wasn’t a girlfriend—it was someone to play with.
I’d even installed dating apps, but they were nothing but part-timers and constant payment demands. Too awkward to actually enjoy.
At twenty-four, meeting Dong-min hyung had been more than enough to change the naive kid I’d been.
As a college student, I’d never even dreamed of the expensive bars and entertainment spots he dragged me through. Sampling women night after night had transformed me completely. Hostesses, one-night stands, sex friends, girlfriends—switching partners so often that, if I stretched the truth a little, I’d probably been with a few hundred women.
Emotional connection and the progress of a relationship still mattered, of course. But physical pleasure had become more important than either.
I was surprised to discover this side of myself, yet the more women I experienced, the more the pleasure outweighed any guilt.
Fourth-year assistant manager at a public enterprise. Graduate of a regional national university.
Behind that respectable social exterior lurked a wolf that hungered for women’s bodies.
I’d suppressed that instinct for years because of COVID. Now that the rules were finally easing, it felt like time to enjoy one-night stands and nightlife again.
Wow… fuck, they’re incredible.
Three women walking toward me from down the street. The moment I saw them, I couldn’t help the silent admiration.
I wasn’t the only one. Groups of men smoking on the sidewalk turned their heads as if pulled by a magnet. The women had to feel those stares; they walked side by side right down the middle of the street like they were savoring every glance.
Club quality-control girls, maybe?
Dressed in sexy mini outfits, they radiated pure sex appeal even among the glittering young crowd of the night streets.
The one on the left had black wavy hair falling to her waist and wore a white tight mini dress with a long white shirt draped over it. The dress was held up by thin straps, clung to every curve, and ended mid-thigh. The neckline plunged deep enough to bare her entire cleavage; the swell of her breasts looked like they would overflow any hand that tried to cup them. They had to be natural—the way they bounced with every step was impossible to miss. Slim legs stretched beneath the hem, and her thin ankles looked delicate above white high heels.
The middle one wore a mini-skirt suit set. No blouse under the jacket, so every eye went straight to her cleavage. Her chest strained against the fabric as if it might burst free at any second; I couldn’t look away. She had a model’s long, lean frame, but her hips were fuller than the girl in white, giving her better curves overall.
The one on the right wore denim hot pants, a tight Yves Saint Laurent top, and strappy heels that laced up around her ankles. Of the three she had the most voluptuous appeal—not fat, just glamorous. These days people would simply call her thick.
All three wore masks, so I couldn’t see their faces completely, but the seductive glint in their eyes was no joke. They were armed to the teeth with sexiness, yet what came through wasn’t mature allure so much as fresh, youthful charm. The kind of bright, dewy energy only girls just past twenty—early twenties at most—could pull off while dressed like that.
In short, they looked delicious.
Any one of them would have been more than satisfying in looks, body, and age. I could read the bedroom fantasies in the men’s eyes and the jealousy and wariness in the women’s.
I exhaled a stream of vapor and kept watching them too.
College girls these days are seriously bold…
I could only lick my lips. Maybe instead of the alumni gathering tonight I should have dragged Dong-min hyung out to a hunting bar.
Was my stare too obvious? As they drew closer, my eyes locked with the girl in the white mini dress. I flinched and pretended to look somewhere else. Eye-candy was fine; actual eye contact was another matter entirely.
To girls in their early twenties I was just some office ajusshi who’d loosened his tie. If they decided to pick a fight because I made them uncomfortable, I’d be the only one who lost. “Visual rape,” all that nonsense… better safe than sorry in this world.
Embarrassed, I turned my head and made a show of looking around, as if our eyes had met by pure accident. But a man’s instincts don’t listen to reason. Even while darting my gaze everywhere, I kept stealing side glances, trying to catch one more look at their bodies.
Or was it just my imagination? The girl in the white mini dress still seemed to be watching me. At that point I just wanted to get out of there.
What the hell? Ah, fuck… is she about to start something? Better run.
When she passed right in front of me and I saw her turn her head to look again, I hurriedly switched off the e-cigarette, ready to leave.
“Excuse me.”
The girl in the white dress had broken away from her two friends and now stood directly in front of me. The other two stared at me with puzzled expressions while she simply looked me up and down.
Shit.
Was this a confrontation?
I should have left earlier…
“Yes?”
“Um…”
She tilted her head, studying me, then pulled her mask down.
The face beneath was beautiful too. Long, cat-like eyes, a high straight nose. The slight upward curl at the corners of her mouth was clearly the work of a doctor, but even without that she was unmistakably a beauty. If she’d worked at a hostess bar she would have been the ace with a fully booked schedule.
“What is it…?”
“Are you… Park Hyun-soo ssaem?”
“Huh? Yes… that’s me, but…”
The name she’d spoken was definitely mine. But teacher?
I answered warily, completely thrown, while her face lit up with pure delight at my confirmation.
“It is you, right? Park Hyun-soo ssaem? Ssaem, don’t you remember me?”
Park Hyun-soo was my name, no question. But I wasn’t a teacher, so why was she calling me ssaem? The whole situation made no sense.
Her smile, though, had a way of pulling people in. With the mask gone, her face held that rare, contradictory mix of pure sexiness and pure innocence.
“I’m sorry. Who… are you…?”
“Ssaem, it’s me—Miho. Gumiho!”
“Gumiho? …… Ah! Miho?! That Gumiho?!”
I rolled the name around in my head, trying to place it, and then it hit me like a lightning bolt. Holy shit. That Gumiho!
The name was so unique I could never have forgotten it.
Gumiho.
Five years ago, during my final spring as a college senior, she had been the high-school freshman I’d tutored in English for a few months as a part-time job. I’d decided I needed more time to prepare for employment after graduation, so I took on tutoring gigs for a year to build up some cash. Being a student at a well-regarded regional national university made it easy to find work; one parent liked me enough to recommend me around, and the jobs multiplied. Miho was one of the kids I’d taught for about three months.
That innocent high-school freshman Gumiho was now standing in front of me as a fully grown, sexy young woman.