Alone with the Karaoke Owner

After planting the groundwork on the karaoke owner from my bed, I left my studio around half past eleven and trudged down toward the basement. Through the front entrance as I descended the stairs, the street outside was deserted — not a soul coming or going.

This wasn't one of those hostess joints that poured drinks and provided girls. It was an ordinary karaoke, run by the owner herself, who only occasionally called in a neighborhood lady to watch the counter. Being a regular place, it didn't usually stay open late on weeknights. Tonight, though, would be different. I'd made sure of that with my suggestions.

That was everything I'd spent about an hour planting in her. My suggestions always took — no exceptions — so I could picture the state of her mind and her body as clearly as if I were standing there watching.

Time to enjoy this nice and slow...

When I reached the basement, the karaoke sign was dark. The stairwell lights were still on, though, which meant she wasn't taking any more customers. I opened the door and walked in anyway, putting on a drunk act as I went.

Ding-a-ling.

The chime of the door made the owner jump — I caught a glimpse of her startled face behind the counter. I could only see her from the neck up, sitting there, but knowing exactly what was going on underneath made that look almost cute.

Since I'd already planted that, I didn't even need to sell the drunk act. Even if I talked and walked perfectly fine, she'd perceive me as wasted and staggering. Sure enough, she shot to her feet and came toward me, tilting her head this way and that as she approached, trying to get a read on my condition. Cute, again.

"Oh my, did you come alone?"

"Yeah... I was bored..."

"You really had a lot to drink... Oh dear, what are we going to do with you."

"I'll just sing for an hour and go..."

To her, I was slurring and swaying on my feet right now.

"Oh my... you've had this much to drink. Are you sure you're all right?"

She came around to my left as she said it, slipping in to support me. Her right arm wrapped around my waist; her left hand settled against my chest. Up close, the scent of her cosmetics hit me and something in me kicked into gear.

"This isn't going to work... Can you even sing like this...?"

"Yeah... which room should I take?"

"This way, then."

She pressed herself against my side and steered me down the hall toward the far end. I let myself stagger and stole a glance at her face — she couldn't quite hide the sultry little smile tugging at her mouth. She was playing at concern, but she thought I was drunk, so she wasn't bothering to bury what she actually felt.

Once we were inside the last room, I dropped onto the sofa and let myself sink back against the cushions.

"Wait just a moment. I'll bring you something to drink."

She turned and stepped out. I watched her go — long hair twisted up off her neck, a thin two-piece that clung to every line of her body, a skirt short enough to show the hollows behind her knees. I liked that length a great deal. And I already knew she wasn't simply going to fetch water.

A little while after I planted that, she eased the door open and slipped back in, a small tray in her hands with a bottle of water and a plastic cup.

"Why did you have to drink so much..."

She set the tray on the table and sat down so close she was practically glued to my side. I kept up the half-hearted drunk act, letting my head loll as I answered.

"Ah, I don't know... I was lonely..."

As I said it I shoved a hand under my clothes and scratched like something itched, which hiked the fabric up and bared my stomach and chest.

"Does it itch here? Want me to scratch it for you?"

Her hand slid over my stomach and found my chest. Those slender fingers pretended to scratch, lightly at first — then her whole palm and every finger swept across me in a slow, deliberate stroke.

"Does that feel better...?"

"Mmh..."

I gave a vague shake of my head, and she started rubbing my chest more firmly, her palm growing bolder. Then she covered my left nipple with her hand and began drawing soft circles over it.

"This is a problem... How are you supposed to sing this drunk... Just rest a bit and sober up. I won't even charge you, all right?"

"Aahh..."

But I'd come to a karaoke. I was going to sing. A ballad, no less. I flailed my arms and hauled myself up, making a show of hunting for a song number, and she wrapped an arm around my waist again to hold me steady.

"You want to sing? Which song. Tell me. I'll find it for you."

I named some atmospheric ballad at random, and she had the number punched in almost immediately. Music spilled from the speakers — and I realized right away that the volume was far lower than usual. This woman had never planned on making money off a song tonight.

I still swayed along with the rhythm, staggering on purpose, and she glued herself to me again to keep me upright. Her body was soft. The music was soft. I mouthed along with the lyrics for a while, then let the mic dangle as if I were too exhausted to go on and sagged against her.

"Oh my... I've turned into a full-on hostess, haven't I? We don't even have those here..."

She murmured it as she gently gathered my waist and back into her arms, then rested her face against my shoulder and started pressing her cheek to mine, little by little. Her cheek was incredibly soft.

We abandoned the song entirely and just held onto each other, swaying to the music. I buried my nose against her neck and breathed her in. The scent was good because it wasn't only perfume — her own skin was mixed into it. When I ran both hands over her back and waist I could feel the thin bra strap and the hook underneath. I traced the strap with my left hand and let my right drift down to stroke her ass.

She only nuzzled her face against mine and stayed right where she was. No — she went further, softly stroking my back and the nape of my neck, as if she were encouraging me. As if she were telling me to do whatever I wanted.

Those panties under her skirt had to be soaked through by now, clinging and sticky.

As I stroked her ass I could feel the thin panty line through the fabric, and that was all it took — my cock stirred and stood up. No reason to hide it. I pulled her hips toward me and started rubbing myself against the curve of her ass, keeping it natural, nothing too obvious.

"Nnh..."

There it was. She could feel my erection against her, and she liked it — I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Babe, it's been a while... Why haven't you come by?"

She was calling me babe now. I laughed inwardly and played along.

"Were you waiting for me?"

"Mm... I was. Just for you to show up..."

"I didn't know... I just felt weird coming alone, so I stayed away."

"So what...? It's even better when you come alone..."

"Why?"

"Why do you think... I get to be your hostess like this..."

At that I pulled her ass in tighter and ground my cock against her.

"Ah...!"

A low moan broke from her lips right against my ear.

"I'm the type who gets rough with hostesses."

"Do whatever you want to me... Today's my turn to be your hostess."

"I like to get handsy, you know. Hands up the skirt and everything."

I felt the hot rush of her breath against me. That, too, was quietly entertaining.

"I didn't take you for that type... You look so cute, and you do things like that...? Oh my..."

"Sorry. That's just the kind of guy I am."

"And what kind of guy is that...?"

"A pervert. A total pervert... Heh."

"Pfft! You don't look like one~ Show me how much of a pervert you are and maybe I'll believe you."

"Come on... I told you I am...!"

I said it with a loose, drunken sway and flipped her skirt up, then started kneading the ass wrapped in those thin panties with both hands. It was more compact than Jeong Sangmi's, but springy and soft, and the thin fabric stretched over that flesh made it all the better.

Then I brought my right hand around front and stroked up the inside of her thigh.

The hot space between her legs brushed the back of my hand. Even with my knuckles I could feel how damp she was, how much moisture she'd already soaked up. I turned my hand and dragged the side of my index finger along ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the crotch of her panties. At the same time my left fingers worked into the cleft of her ass, reaching for whatever I could feel with my fingertips.

"Ah...!"

She couldn't hold it in. A cry escaped her, and both her arms wound around my neck.

"Nnh... Babe, whatever perverted things you want to do... do them all to me..."