The Work Begins: Married Woman Jeong Sangmi
Jeong Sangmi.
A forty-four-year-old married woman with one daughter and one son. She'd gotten pregnant with her daughter right out of college and married young, so even at her age the girl was already a college student — further along than most kids of mothers her age.
I'd seen her on and off for about five years, sneaking away for the occasional tryst. But for a married woman older than me, she was demanding as hell and picky enough that we butted heads more often than not. And every time we did, I was the one who had to fold. I wanted to fuck her badly enough that I always ended up apologizing first, always ended up playing along with whatever she wanted.
Then she decided I was coming on too strong and blocked me. A full year later, she still hadn't the slightest intention of unblocking me — not on KakaoTalk, not on the phone, not anywhere.
But I'm not sweating it anymore. No more sitting around desperate.
Because now I have the power to rewrite her heart however I want. To force it, if I have to.
I settle back against the mattress and close my eyes. I quit my job, so I can lie here like this beside a sunlit window and not give a damn about anything. I let the tension drain from my body and soak in the warmth and the drowsiness for a while. Then, slowly, I call Jeong Sangmi to mind.
Five-foot-three, a body she'd kept voluptuous with steady exercise. A long bob that fell to her shoulders. Skin white as snow. Big, round eyes. Full, red lips.
And between those lips, that long, thick tongue that used to slither so wetly, saliva stretching in strings.
That was enough. I didn't even need to picture her fat nipples or the flushed meat inside her panties. I was already close enough to become one with her mind.
Think of me.
Long for me.
Love me with a heat that makes everything you ever felt before look like nothing.
The more you think of me, the more you burn for me, the hotter your body gets — and a hot, fishy wetness drools from your pussy.
Then contact me again. Cling to me.
Beg me to see you again. Please.
Until you see me again, you cannot sleep, you cannot focus on work, and you are always so sexually frustrated that you are irritable and miserable.
Every time you love me and long for me, you have to masturbate in secret at home whenever you can steal a moment from your husband and daughter. At work you have to sneak off and touch yourself just to bear it — but even that never lasts.
Contact me as fast as you can. Beg my forgiveness. Submit.
That is true happiness. That is true joy.
A week has passed.
Finally, sometime after ten at night, a text comes through.
That fucking bitch. She ignored me, she measured me, she cut me off — and now she wants to play it like we just bumped into each other on the street.
As if her panties aren't already soaked through with hot pussy juice right this second.
Sangmi and her husband don't get along. Her daughter's in college, but she's probably working a part-time job for spending money. Sangmi told me once that she usually sleeps in her daughter's room, or else alone in the little storage room they use as a spare.
I can't keep the smile off my face as I open the chat, nice and slow. What should I give her.
I send that, wait a beat, then follow it with something colder.
That ought to sting. She'll flinch on the inside, I know she will. But I don't need to come in low anymore. Her body and her mind have already been rewritten so that submitting to me is the only option she has left.
She goes quiet for a while, so I wait. Looks like she's trying to figure out how to steer this conversation where she wants it — in that heat-struck, dripping state of hers. Or maybe she just can't type fast because one hand is busy rubbing inside her panties.
Heh. Same as always, my ass. She's wanting me, craving me, on a level that doesn't even compare to before.
How do I want to play this. I sit with it for a second. Keep pretending nothing's going on? Keep poking around light and easy?
No. I don't want to. I'm sick of it.
Because I'm not the bitch in this relationship anymore. I'm the one holding the leash. Super-alpha. Her master.
That got her. Hehehe. She's a mess on the inside right now. Of course, she might also think I'm lying just to get back at her. Doesn't matter. Eventually even the way she thinks will go exactly the way I tell it to.
Playing it a little surprised. As if the sky isn't caving in on her. Heh heh heh.
Called it. Even now she wants to feel like she's the better one.
Alright, hold on... What do I want to say here...
Push harder? Or give her a little slack?
Of course, that karaoke ajumma is still just a target. I haven't actually started working her yet. But I'll get around to it as soon as I have time, so treating it like a done deal doesn't really matter.
Holy shit, nothing. Jealousy's detonating in her right about now. She's probably running through every karaoke place in the neighborhood. Wouldn't surprise me if she's got the map app open, searching every noraebang in the area...
That's funny. She's forty-four herself — a full ten years older than me. She never once showed any gratitude when a man a decade younger treated her like she was something special, but the second she hears I'm seeing another woman her own age, the jealousy just explodes.
I leave it there and wait for her to respond.
The old Sangmi would have ended the conversation without a second's hesitation. She wouldn't even have given me a cold got it.
But will she do that now?
This feels like the right moment to hit her with another Instant Suggestion.
The more disappointed and resentful you feel, the more jealous you are of that karaoke ajumma, the hotter your body burns.
Your whole body is as sensitive as a swollen nipple or clit — one brush and you feel like you'll come — and your pussy keeps drooling sticky cunt-juice.
Whether the suggestion landed the way I wanted, she doesn't answer for a while. Then, about a minute later, another text comes in.
I smile as I type back.
By the time the conversation gets this far, precum is already welling up at the tip of my cock. I decide to cut things off first — and leave her with a little gift she'll be very, very grateful for.
If I tell her I've got something to show her, she'll have a pretty good idea what it is. And while she waits to see if I'll actually send it, she'll already have her fingers shoved inside her panties, stirring herself up.
I shove my pants and underwear down together and flip on the phone camera. A clear bead of precum is hanging off the swollen head of my cock, stretching in a thin string. For a little extra drama, I spit on the head and smear it around.
It takes the wetness beautifully — glossy, filthy, showing off just how nasty it looks.
I shoot three photos and send them all: a side view, a top view, and one from the base looking up.
A crying face. She probably actually wants to cry.
For days she hasn't been able to sleep at night, missing this cock so badly she could lose her mind, starving for it — and I just pulled it out and showed it to her. And she doesn't get to have it. Some other bitch is coming over to eat it instead.
And that bitch is only a year younger than she is. How much must that burn. How jealous must she be.
A little bait, just to see. Sangmi isn't going to be able to keep from biting now.
I put the clock on her, and at last Sangmi answers.
One last nail.
Oh? Still got enough in her to play it cool?
Be honest with me.
The more honest you are with me, the more you feel the happiness and arousal of a woman submitting to a man.
You want to confess every filthy, shameful part of yourself to me and me alone — especially the parts that mortify you.
That is true happiness. That is true joy.
This time she doesn't hesitate.
Got her. The old Sangmi would have been horrified — what the hell are you even saying right now? — but that's never happening again. Not as long as I don't allow it. Not ever...
It was an outrageously provocative thing to say, and the fact that she couldn't do a damn thing about it felt incredibly good.
I toss the phone onto the pillow beside me and lie back, savoring the win.
So this is what it feels like to have the whole world in your hands.
I sit with that satisfaction for a while — and then, suddenly, I actually want to blow a load.
Calling out a married woman like Sangmi would be a bit much, though...
Ah...!
That's right.
There's a karaoke bar proprietress downstairs.
Then how about I go actually dump a load in that karaoke proprietress's pussy?