Asking Only with My Mouth
The world outside was slowly waking up. Pandemic isolation and remote work had been my daily routine for more than a year now, and even as COVID restrictions loosened a little, the city felt like it was finally exhaling after a long breath.
Those first days of the pandemic had been the sweetest kind of holiday, but the thrill had long since faded. Now I was deep in my second month of remote work for a major American tech firm, justifying the long-distance assignment by saying we were “securing the Korean market.” In truth I was just sucking honey on the sly, using the time difference and strict local protocols as my cover.
I told myself it was legal. But the truth was, I was starving for something real in this locked-down, quiet world. My body itched constantly. In a perfect prison of freedom like my own island, the only thing that kept me awake every single night was the raw, vicious thirst for something I had no right to touch.
That night was no different. I’d locked the door on my room with keywords—my local city name, VoiceTalk, consultation room—and was waiting for the server update to finish. Night shifts were inevitable with a twenty-four-hour system, but as the head of the whole operation I didn’t have to stay up myself.
Still, the shift from day to night and the responsibility for our Korean infrastructure setup gave me an excuse to monitor the domestic outsourcing engineers. The boring wait while everything ran on autopilot pulled me straight into the virtual world on my phone.
At 3 a.m., the cool glow of the screen lit my face. A new message notification popped up and shattered the silence.
[Hello.]
[Nice to meet you. Where do you live and how old are you?]
[I’m twenty years old and I live in XX.]
My fingers paused. Not Seoul. A quiet provincial city, and to find someone from the exact same neighborhood on a lottery ticket? That was almost unheard of.
[Wow, it’s actually the same neighborhood. How strange. Are you a university student?]
[Yes. I’m in my first year now.]
[Oh… that university over there. But I’m a bit older than you. Twenty years difference, right?]
She didn’t immediately hang up like I expected. Instead her reply came without hesitation.
[Then you’re an uncle. Age difference doesn’t matter. Do you not like younger girls?]
[Of course not. I’m grateful. Can I call you by your first name?]
[Yes, please. I’m fine with that.]
The conversation started at dawn. She was calm and smart for someone barely twenty. Most of her classes were online, so she spent her days staring at a screen in her room. She’d never joined clubs, never gone on MT trips, never even met a senior. Campus life felt empty, and on top of that she worried constantly about tuition and the weight of her family’s situation.
She was bright enough to have gotten into a top private university in Seoul, but because of her circumstances she’d chosen a local national university that offered scholarships. Her messages were short, but they painted a clear picture of a conscientious, thoughtful girl.
The conversation grew denser as the age gap faded into the background. Then the messages took a sudden, unexpected turn.
[But…]
She stayed quiet for a moment, then her next line landed like a quiet bomb.
[I want to try it with my mouth.]
My brain short-circuited. The neat, responsible student who’d been talking about her major and scholarships moments ago… was this the same girl?
[With your mouth? What do you mean?]
[I’m not going to do anything else. Just my mouth.]
It felt too sudden for an anonymous chat reversal. The serious life advice had dissolved into sticky, shameful desire. Suspicion flared. Was this a guy pretending to be a girl? Or some cruel prank pulling in an innocent old man?
[Can you do voice chat?]
I needed to confirm she was real.
[My roommate is asleep, so I can’t right now.]
No voice call. My suspicion hardened into certainty. Classic NetCam scam.
[Can you come here? I can sneak out.]
The request was strangely direct. At 3 a.m. past, no voice, just “come right now.” Dark streets, possible robbery, or worse—some degenerate old man getting live-streamed and blacklisted from the internet. I took a breath and pulled myself back.
[It’s too late right now. Let’s talk on voice tomorrow morning. Then we can do voice chat and finish the conversation.]
I’d been burned by this before. After hundreds of phone-sex experiences and countless fake encounters, I had my own rules. Never meet anyone who won’t even confirm their voice. And if I liked them at all, I made them wait at least two weeks of daily contact to read their character before stepping into the real world.
That window was the perfect time for their guard to drop and the perfect shield against getting lost in fantasies about a face I didn’t know. I ended the chat and forced my eyes shut.
The next morning I woke up with a heavy head and checked my phone. Her message was waiting.
[Can I call you now?]
She was outside. My heart gave a little jolt. ‘So she really is a girl?’ My fingers trembled slightly as I pressed the call button. The ringtone played a few times before she picked up.
[Hello?]
The voice on the other end was younger and shyer than I’d imagined.
[Ah, hello.]
We started awkwardly. After the usual pleasantries, I admitted I’d been a little suspicious last night because of the sudden request. She giggled.
[You’re very cautious, huh?]
She explained that she only went to classes once or twice a week for practice, and even then she had to leave right after because no more than five people could stay together. She couldn’t even share a proper meal with her friends. Her voice was quieter than in the chat, but when I joked she answered with innocent delight, and my suspicion melted away like snow.
Normally I would have stayed in touch for weeks, but the cool, innocent voice on the other end shook my iron rule in one breath.
Before I knew it my defenses were gone, and I found myself wanting to see her face more than anything. We skipped the dirty talk and made plans to meet for lunch on Saturday.
Saturday came. I drove to the meeting spot with my mind in a tangle. To be safe I stopped at the convenience store and bought a pack of condoms. The mix of caution and excitement made my pulse race.
I parked at the edge of her neighborhood residential street and turned on the hazard lights. From far away a girl walked toward me. I instinctively held my breath.
It was obvious. The classic “bagel girl.” Barely any makeup, fresh face, looked like a high-schooler. But the soft curves under her thin white T-shirt proved she was twenty. I swallowed dryly.
[She’s prettier than I thought…]
She reached the car, gave an awkward smile, and got in. The atmosphere inside became thick and charged. I tried to keep the conversation light, but my mind was elsewhere. I drove us to a quiet, upscale restaurant I’d booked in the next city over.
When I ordered steak for both of us her eyes went wide.
[Wow, it really looks good!] She ate like a child, and the sight was strangely adorable.
She admitted she’d never been on campus for MTs or festivals, hadn’t even met a senior, and that a meal like this was out of her reach because of money worries. I felt a strange mix of pity and guilt watching her eat so innocently.
All through lunch we kept the conversation normal—complaining about professors, campus life, nothing more. I even felt a twisted sense of superiority. After we finished I thought, maybe I should just take her home and keep her safe.
But the reality of the twenty-year gap, the pure innocence I saw in her face, pressed on my conscience. I needed air. I drove her out of the city to a quiet riverside road.
When we reached a remote parking lot overlooking the river she spoke softly.
[But…]
[Yeah?]
[I knew there was an age difference, but in person… honestly, it’s a little hard on me. I have midterms starting soon and I’m really stressed.]
My chest went cold. I smiled bitterly.
[Then I guess I won’t see you again. Thanks for lunch today. It was really good.]
Her rejection was clear. I nodded calmly, ready to give the usual “study hard” parting line.
[By the way…]
She took a steadying breath and looked straight at me.
[You can… just do it with your mouth, right?]
[…What?]
[You don’t have to do anything else.]
It was like being hit in the back of the head with a hammer. I was stunned.
[Here? Right now, in the car?]
[The car might be seen by passersby. Somewhere quiet and hidden.]
Her tone was surprisingly direct. I launched into a long, formal lecture—explaining why this was wrong, that she was too young, that she’d regret it later, that this wasn’t a real meeting. The classic uncle scolding.
She listened without expression and answered calmly.
[I’m fine with it. I’ve always wanted to try it with someone experienced. You don’t seem like a bad person anyway… and anyway, I won’t see you again after today. You don’t want to?]
The challenge snapped the last thread of my self-control. Was the innocent face hiding something else? I wanted to know. And the safest way to satisfy that curiosity without anyone seeing was right here.
I couldn’t refuse her. I couldn’t refuse myself. I turned the wheel.
The destination was not her dorm, but a hotel near the river where the afternoon was quiet.
