Don't Hold Back, Paint Your Face with It
I always insist on hotels when I meet someone.
I hate the unique time pressure and impatience that the term "short-term stay" conveys, as well as the awkward atmosphere I’d have to face while checking in at a narrow counter with strangers I don’t know. I also don’t think it’s proper to lay the person down on the damp, stuffy sheets that countless others have used in such a short time.
My own trauma also played a role in this stubbornness. It was right after I had just graduated from university and begun living my adult life. At the time, I had gone to a motel with my then-girlfriend, who was a college freshman.
Because of my girlfriend’s unusually youthful appearance, the counter owner had openly suspected her of being underage and had given me a sharp glare.
I had shown my ID card, and only then was I allowed to enter the room. But the atmosphere had already gone cold.
After that day, when I had soothed my girlfriend, who was trembling with fear and tears in her eyes, I made a vow to myself that I would never again expose myself to such an undignified situation.
Moreover, when I’m with someone who is quite a bit older, like today, it’s on an entirely different level from a motel where incoming guests are immediately checked at the entrance, leaving no choice but for the companion’s existence to be exposed.
I complete the check-in anonymously through a mobile app, and then take the elevator that connects directly from the underground parking lot to the room. There’s no need to pass the front desk for strict sanitation procedures or to be exposed to anyone’s gaze.
Hotels are the perfect place to completely block the eyes of others and maintain absolute privacy. I had paid nearly 200,000 won for a local hotel in a rush to fix it immediately, but by blocking out all those unpleasant variables, I had chosen the minimum defense line I would accept as a sophisticated adult.
During the short time I rode the elevator up from the underground parking lot, my lower body was already swelling so much that it felt like it would burst, all because of the presence of this cute, youthful girl standing beside me.
Each time I took a step, the taut waistband of my pants rubbed against me, making my gait somewhat unnatural.
Even at the moment I stood in front of the door and swiped the card key, my mind was in chaos.
This girl, who had made such a bold proposal to an older man she had met for the first time in an anonymous chat, and whose name she hadn’t even asked for, was a mysterious existence that stirred my heart with anticipation.
Behind her innocent and clear appearance, could there be a hidden nature of a slut who would easily give her body to anyone?
Or was she just an innocent lamb who had stepped into this without a second thought out of curiosity?
I always feel the greatest thrill right before I deal with a woman, at the stage where I imagine the truth hidden behind this shell.
What kind of lewd expression she would make when her well-behaved-looking body got excited.
How sensitive she would react to stimulation.
Where her unique erogenous zones would be that no one else knew about.
Most of all, I imagined how warm and tight the feeling inside her would be, and my brain felt like it was melting.
I had promised only with my mouth to do that, but I was eagerly waiting to see how she would break under my skilled hands, how she would scream, and how she would cling to me.
In the clean room that had a small sink and a table in a fairly large room, a large bed was placed at the center.
With the heavy sound of the door lock, the space was perfectly isolated from the outside world.
We sat side by side at the edge of the bed and looked at each other.
Until just a moment ago, she had been bold, but the moment she entered the sealed space of the hotel room, she began to tremble like a leaf in a cold wind.
That was the passive appearance that perfectly matched her looks.
Looking at her, a strange mixture of conquest desire and protective instinct surged within me at the same time.
In the silence blocked by the thick curtains from the noise outside, I slowly stroked her loosened hair.
“Are you okay?”
I asked in a low voice, lightly brushing my lips against her cheek.
Instead of answering, she gently closed her eyes.
Her long eyelashes, fluttering with a tremor, represented her tension.
The fresh shampoo scent that pricked my nose and the sweet lotion smell began to paralyze my rationality.
It was the moment I lifted her chin slightly and tried to kiss those small lips.
“I don’t like kissing….”
In her quietly murmured voice, I hesitated.
‘Only the mouth part, and not the kissing part? Then what am I supposed to do?’
A sense of perplexity passed through me, but instead of asking the reason, I rubbed my lips against her cheek and slowly descended along her earlobe.
“I see. I won’t do it.”
Her shoulders twitched with the breath I exhaled.
I extended the tip of my tongue and slowly swept the outer ear, then pushed it deeply into the cotton-like hairs inside the ear.
In an instant, her body curled up tightly.
The reaction was straightforward.
I gradually licked up her neck roughly, and with my large hand, I pulled her slender waist tightly.
The palm of my hand received the heavy rebound of her chest over her thin t-shirt.
The firm breasts unique to a twenty-year-old woman were quivering as if they would burst in my hand.
I slowly pushed my hand inside her clothes.
The smooth texture of the bra and the hot skin locked inside it were felt at the same time by my rough palm.
I climbed onto her body and lifted her shirt all the way up to her neck.
The cleavage of her breasts, delicately revealed between the bra cups.
I pressed my face close and buried my nose between them.
It was the soft, baby-like skin scent that seeped out from deep inside her skin, not an artificial perfume scent, that hit me.
She turned her head away, blushing as if her face would burst, and endured her moans.
I vigorously kneaded her breasts with my hands, then quickly rolled up the cups.
The nipples, raised prominently as if waiting, appeared before my eyes.
I gently bit the tip with my lips, then rolled it softly with the tip of my tongue.
A suppressed moan escaped between her lips.
I was madly infatuated with that sensation.
I filled my mouth with her entire breast and sucked alternately, making the sound “chuck-chuck.”
She grabbed my hair and trembled all over as she reacted.
I reached downward with the hand that had been eating her enthusiastically, to reach the panty line.
The fabric that touched the back of my hand was already warmly wet.
Unable to withstand the unbearable thirst, I tried to pull down her panties.
She urgently grabbed my hand.
“Just a moment….”
Her hand, strongly resisting as if saying she had to go wash up.
I pushed her hand away and patted her, saying it was fine.
“It’s not okay. It smells like sweat.”
But I didn’t want to break the flow here.
After actually doing it, I might regret it and just go back. I had to push this heat forward as it was.
I ignored her words and forced her panties down in one go.
Inside the panties, the liquid was soaked as if she had just cleared her nose.
Although I tried to cover her with my hand by closing her legs, I couldn’t withstand my power.
I grabbed her knees and applied a little force, and her slender legs immediately opened wide.
The moment I saw her most private place completely exposed, I briefly held my breath.
It was neatly shaved, smooth and pretty.
I thought maybe she was the type who regularly maintained it, but upon closer inspection, it seemed she had shaved it herself, with a slight stubble.
That only made it cuter and more stimulating.
I imagined her preparing it carefully in front of the mirror in her dorm room before meeting me today, and an unbearable excitement surged.
I buried my head deep between her legs.
At first, she had pushed my head away with a look of embarrassment, but the moment I began to gently touch the wet crevice with the tip of my tongue, she soon stopped resisting, covered her face with the pillow, and whimpered while trying to hold back her voice.
I, without realizing the passage of time, stimulated her in every place with relentless effort.
From the soft flesh on the inside of her thighs, I swept the corners of the wet crevice with my tongue, put the petals in my mouth and gently sucked, then carefully licked the clit again.
I went up to tease the nipples in the middle and repeated going down several times.
By the time more than ten minutes had passed, her breathing had reached its limit, and her stiff legs had helplessly spread wider.
Her suppressed moans had grown large enough to fill the entire room, and my saliva mixed with her wet fluids had become a mess all over my face and her buttocks.
When I pushed my tongue deep inside the entrance at the threshold of climax, she gripped my hair tightly and arched her body like a bow.
At the same time, I stimulated both the inside of the hole and the clit, very slowly and densely.
Then she suddenly started making a fuss, saying she really had to go to the bathroom.
“I really have to go! It’s going to come out!”
The feeling as if she needed to pee.
I was sure it was the approach of orgasm.
I pretended not to hear and pushed my tongue deeper, adding one last spurt.
“Since you can poop on my face, stay still.”
The moment my words ended, her thighs began to tremble as she thrashed to push my face away.
“Ah… no.”
She bit the blanket in her mouth and suppressed her moans, and she came to a climax while her whole body trembled for a long time.
I slowly climbed up and hugged her, who was sweaty.
Every time my hands touched her, she continued to tremble all over and gasped for breath.
Secretly, while she was squeezing her eyes shut tightly as if she couldn’t open them properly, I slowly lowered my pants.
