Enjoying Ms. Oh Eunmi of General Affairs
It was three o'clock in the morning on Saturday by the time we finally left the bar. Five full hours of drinking in that one place — and nothing the whole time but soju bombs.
Not a single soul from General Affairs was in his right mind anymore. Every last one of them who'd been knocking back the bombs I kept mixing was staggering around like a puppet with its strings cut.
Me? I'd done nothing but keep the bombs coming, stepping in only when the energy started to sag so the party never died — and I was dead sober. Years of client entertainment had long since built up my tolerance. A few soju bombs stretched out over a long night weren't going to put me under.
The men of General Affairs, having loaded their section chief into a taxi, were now hailing cabs for the women — teetering on their feet just as badly themselves, but still man enough for that much, apparently.
Eunmi, for her part, had passed out completely. One of the guys, swaying where he stood, all but tossed her into the back seat of a taxi, and the moment he'd dumped her in there he couldn't even manage to shut the door — he wobbled once, then went down in a heap on the sidewalk.
I darted to Eunmi's cab, pulled the rear door shut, and climbed into the front.
"Driver, XX-dong, please."
From the passenger seat I told him to take us home, and — as taxi drivers invariably do — he gave no answer, just pulled away from the curb.
"Congratulations. All that's left now is the main event."
It was only the Genie's voice, but somehow I could practically see him grinning ear to ear.
"Yeah. Thanks to you."
"Hm? What was that?"
The driver, catching me muttering to myself, spoke up.
"Nothing, sir. Just — could you go a little faster?"
The taxi gathered speed by degrees and went racing down the night streets of Seoul.
It was a strange thing. I had lived with a fear of women for so long that I couldn't look properly at so much as a woman's feet, let alone her face. Stare at a woman for more than a minute and the world would start to swim — I always felt certain I was about to keel over.
It hadn't been that bad from the beginning. The symptom started small: I would simply turn my head away around women, as if the sight of them might make me sick. Every woman in the world looked repulsive to me. I avoided them the way you avoid something filthy — and the longer I kept my distance, the more the aversions piled up, one on top of another.
The psychiatrist who counseled me explained that mine was a textbook case of negative reinforcement feeding a phobia, and that desensitization therapy would gradually set it right. But I didn't want it set right. So I simply left my fear of women to fester.
Touching a woman's body was, naturally, out of the question — and that was how I had lived until now. The faintest brush against a woman on the subway or in any public place was enough to make me jump out of my skin.
Fortunately, the field I worked in dealt almost entirely with men, so my condition never got in the way of the job. On the rare occasion a woman needed handling, I'd drill a junior to take the meeting in my place.
"I'm only handing these over for the sake of your sales figures."
Playing it cool, that was what I'd tell my juniors as I passed the clients along, and they would swear their loyalty to me in return. And so I had lived, steering clear of women wherever I could.
And yet, when it came time to get the drunken Eunmi out of the back of that taxi, I hauled her out with my own two hands and felt nothing. I wasn't even aware, in that moment, that I was touching a woman.
Only after the taxi dropped us at the curb and drove off — only when I had hung her limp, drunken arm around my neck and brought my other hand to her waist — did it finally dawn on me that I was holding a woman in my arms.
And even then, there was no horrified jolt, no fainting fit. Quite the opposite: a woman's body against mine for the first time in ten years, and the only part of me celebrating was my cock, lifting its head higher and higher.
"Heh heh. Call it a service, a service. You couldn't go conquering these women — or not, as the case may be — if you still flinched at the touch of one, could you?"
What had gotten into him, this Genie? Where was all this generosity when he'd been standing there with his hands behind his back, lecturing me to get creative?
"Didn't you know? I'm the genie who grants your wishes. Anything directly tied to a wish, I grant — naturally. Everything indirect is yours to sort out on your own. Even a genie can't lift the spoon to your mouth for you."
The Genie said it as if deliberately showing off his powers, and I snorted a laugh, tucked her against my side, and half-dragged her into the elevator of my officetel building.
"Ooh~ now that's sexy. A fine body."
The little sneak had evidently given Eunmi a head-to-toe once-over, because he said it with a snicker.
That much I could confirm firsthand. Through the hand I'd left resting at her waist, I could feel the dramatic inward curve of her. I'd sensed it even sneaking glances at her through her clothes, but her body under my palm was on another level entirely.
Feeling along her waist, I couldn't even find the usual soft little tummy every woman seemed to carry. After all the beer and bar food she'd put away, her stomach should have rounded out at least a little — there was nothing there.
My hand crept higher and met the firm ridge of her bra's underwire. Starting from the wire, I kept feeling my way up until my hand closed tight around one of her breasts.
Unbelievable. Her breast overflowed my hand even cupped to its fullest. Her bra must have been thin, because it felt as springy as bare skin — as if I were gripping her naked breast outright.
The moment the elevator hit the seventh floor, I practically ran her down the hall to my room. I kicked off my shoes the instant I got the door open, and without even removing her heels I dropped her straight onto my bed.
Drunk as she was, she didn't wake. She simply surrendered to the bounce of the mattress and sprawled there, arms flung wide, out cold. Even lying flat on her back, the swell of her chest refused to sink.
At the sight of it, my lust hit its peak. I forgot everything else in the world and threw myself onto her body on the bed.
"Kukuku. Easy, boy — eat slower. Gobble it down that fast and you'll make yourself sick."
The Genie was laughing at me, but I paid him no mind. I reached out and kneaded Eunmi's breasts with both hands. They had the springy give of fresh rice cake, pliant and yielding under my palms.
"Kukuku. There, there... so this is what ten years without a woman's body does to a man... Good. Go on, show me what you can do. I'll keep quiet."
And the Genie fell silent.
I gave myself over to Eunmi's body completely, learning every inch of her with my fingertips. Kneading those enormous breasts, I raised my head and let my eyes travel down her, slow and thorough, from top to bottom — as if to save the image of her body into my memory for good.
Eunmi's long, straight hair lay strewn carelessly across the white bedspread. Beneath it, her face was sunk in deep sleep, both eyes shut tight — but between her long lashes, her fine, high-bridged nose, and lips the red of an apple, lips made to be bitten, came the soft, even whisper of her breathing.
Below the long line of her neck, her pale skin was almost blinding. Every time I worked her breasts from side to side, her white shirt shifted with them — and there was something unbearably obscene about the sight. Her shirttail had already slipped free of her skirt, and each time the height of her chest pushed it a little further up, her hidden porcelain stomach and the deep dimple of her navel emerged a little further into the light.
Her skirt, riding along the line of her slightly parted legs, covered — barely — just her hips and that most secret part of her, exactly as it had back at the bar. My gaze slid down the length of those long, crane-graceful legs to her feet, where her heels still sat — the ones I hadn't bothered to pull off at the door.
An elegant, aloof beauty sprawled senseless on a bed with her heels still on — the sight stoked my excitement all over again. My cock was screaming inside my trousers, cramped and desperate.
I pulled away from her for a moment and scrambled out of my clothes. Shirt off, trousers and briefs down in one motion — my cock sprang up toward the ceiling as if celebrating its release. Starved for a woman's body as it had been, it was already worked up past the point of no return.
But I couldn't bury myself inside her like this. Fifteen years. Fifteen! Since Gayoon's older sister, I hadn't known a woman's body — and I found I wanted to play with this one a little longer first.
I climbed back onto the bed and straddled her. Then I brought my trembling lips down to Eunmi's.
Her lips were warm.
Still dead to the world, Eunmi didn't open her mouth to meet mine. I wedged my tongue between her closed lips. They parted, and the warm air of her mouth flowed into mine.
Her breath was a blend of beer and soju and every kind of bar snack. But to the man I was tonight, even that didn't smell off-putting — it smelled sexy.
Lifting my mouth from hers, I set my hands to work on her shirt, undoing the buttons one by one from the collar down. And with every button that gave way, every new inch of skin laid bare, my breathing grew rougher.
When the last button came free and her bra and bare skin finally lay open before me, I couldn't hold back a gasp.
Her upper body was more perfect than anything I had ever imagined. Of all the actresses in all the porn I'd watched over the years, not one had a figure as flawless as Eunmi's.
A deep, crisply defined collarbone. Beneath it, tucked into a black half-cup silk bra, huge, taut breasts white as fresh snow. The areolae just visible past the edge of the cups were pink — a pink made for skin that fair. And in stark contrast to all that breast, a waist that cinched inward without mercy.
The waistline especially was a masterpiece. Narrow as an ant's, it permitted not a single strand of excess flesh — as if the whole of it were carved from one solid muscle, the line running from her side down to her belly curving inward, clean and beautiful.
With a trembling hand, I laid my palm softly on her stomach. Her body twitched, just barely — but she didn't wake.
I stroked her belly with my hand. Soft... It was so soft — like running my fingers through a puppy's coat! I traced my fingertip gently around her navel.
"Mm..."
It must have tickled, because a small sigh slipped from her lips. But Eunmi showed no intention of waking.
And now, at last, I reached out and lifted her bra up and over her breasts.