I Can Hear the Sound of Your Pussy Getting Wet
Ayoung opened her mouth and began to speak.
“The reason I want to fix how much I hate men is… for jobs.”
The unexpectedly practical answer caught me a little off guard.
“Jobs?”
“Yeah. Our country doesn’t legally discriminate against lesbians all that hard. But… there’s this invisible wall.”
Ayoung lowered her head and kept talking while staring at the back of her hand.
“It’s harder to get hired than other people, and harder to get promoted too. Socially there’s this atmosphere where people just quietly avoid you. Even if the government doesn’t tell anyone to discriminate, if your superior doesn’t like it, you’re screwed.”
“So even if just one line gets written in your student record under special notes when you graduate—‘dislikes men’ or ‘HSDD’—it’s a massive minus for your entire social life.”
It was a story I could understand completely.
“When I saw everyone sitting as far away from you as possible at lunch today, I pretty much got the picture.”
At my words, Ayoung’s shoulders sagged a little.
“You saw, huh? Even if it’s not HSDD, just refusing sex practice is enough to get treated like a freak.”
Looking at the discrimination Subin had faced for her HSDD alone, it all came from that same thought: She’s different from us.
And as I listened a little longer, she told me that pure lesbians who only liked women barely existed at all.
At first I had no idea what she meant.
Apparently most women still preferred men, but because men were so scarce they ended up learning to like women too out of necessity. In reality they were bisexuals, not lesbians.
Anyway, the important part was that hating men was the problem, and she wanted that fixed.
And to fix her hatred of men she had concluded she needed to meet a good one—and right now the only man around her was me.
After hearing all that I thought for a moment. How the hell was I supposed to handle this?
“You just hate men that much?”
“Yeah. Enough that I don’t want to have sex.”
Enough that she didn’t want to have sex…
Considering how women in this world phrased things, that was a far stronger expression of disgust than “even if a beauty spreads her pussy wide open and offers it, I still don’t want to fuck her.”
I met Ayoung’s eyes.
It was a truly pretty face, with sad eyes.
I set my goal.
“I can’t directly treat your trauma. That’s a counselor’s job. My goal is to burn into both your body and your mind the certainty that ‘I’m safe in front of this man.’”
I spoke as seriously as I could, hoping she would trust me.
“That filthy memory your so-called father made with his domestic violence—I’m going to try my best to overwrite it with my own hands into something positive and good.”
Ayoung’s gaze wavered slightly at my words.
Then she gave a small nod, looking like she was starting to feel some trust.
“You’re more systematic than I expected. I… kind of believe you a little.”
“Glad to hear it.”
I smiled and went straight to the point.
“Then how about we start by getting undressed?”
“…What?”
Ayoung looked startled. Like she must have misheard.
But I hadn’t misspoken. I started persuading her instead.
“I figured you’d be surprised. Totally natural reaction. But listen carefully.”
I took a breath and looked straight into her eyes as I spoke.
The moment before stripping a woman, my brain started racing at incredible speed.
“This is about every single ‘shell’ protecting you, Ayoung. The clothes we wear. They’re a social contract, the minimum defense that separates me from everyone else.”
“And our relationship as classmates at the academy. That’s another shackle that keeps me from acting however I want toward you. Even the walls of this room, the law, morality—all those invisible things.”
I kept going without giving her time to fully digest any of it.
“All these safety devices give you a sense of security, but at the same time they’re hiding the real thing you actually have to face. Man himself.”
“And it’s the same for me. I’ll strip everything off too and stand in front of you as just one human being named Sihyuk, as a man. We’re going to face each other simply as woman and man. Only when we peel off the shells and become sincere can I change you.”
I made it sound complicated and profound, but really it just meant take your damn clothes off.
“Hah, but you’re a man. Aren’t you scared to strip in front of me, a woman…?”
Ayoung’s words were perfectly sensible. In this world the common knowledge was that a naked man might get raped by a woman.
Of course, getting raped by Ayoung wouldn’t be so bad either, but that was never going to happen.
Because I’d fuck her first long before she ever tried to rape me.
“I trust you. That you won’t do me any harm. So you have to trust me too. That I’ll never hurt you. How about it?”
Me, the man, suggesting we strip first seemed to give it more sincerity.
Especially since Ayoung already thought of me as “the nice guy who even does practice volunteer work for the girls.”
Before she could hesitate any longer, I started undressing first.
Shirt, pants, and underwear too.
She’d seen me during sex practice class earlier, but looking this close for the first time made her eyes tremble a little—I could feel it.
After staring at my naked body for a moment, Ayoung hesitated, then seemed to make up her mind and stripped as well.
As expected, her body was incredible.
The heavy tits that had been hidden under clothes and a bra were even bigger than I’d imagined, and her ass was round and springy.
An ideal figure that looked soft and pliant wherever you grabbed, yet had almost no unnecessary fat.
Like that, I quietly met Ayoung’s eyes and just looked at her.
She looked back at me without a word. For a long while we simply stared at each other.
I kept looking, imagining my gaze was stroking every inch of her body.
After some time passed and I thought her eyes had softened a little, I spoke first.
“What did you feel while looking into my eyes for a bit?”
Ayoung thought carefully before answering.
“Being naked with a man is still a little unpleasant… but the longer I keep looking, the less unpleasant it feels.”
“What thoughts come up when you look at my skin—a man’s skin?”
“My dad… that bastard hitting my mom.”
“If I touch you right now, do you think those memories will keep coming back?”
“Yeah. During the physical exam last time… it was a little like that.”
I got the rough idea and spoke.
“From now on I’m going to touch you with my hands. I’ll make you feel that a man’s hands aren’t only for violence.”
“Okay. I’ll try to feel it as positively as I can.”
Ayoung made a slightly disgusted face at the idea of a man touching her, but she bit her lip and closed her eyes.
I started to reach for her arm, then hesitated for a second.
The original plan had been to take her arm and slowly build the mood… but suddenly I wanted to grab her tits.
I wanted to touch those nipples that were still soft and sleeping, not yet aroused.
So after a brief internal debate—if she hates it I can just sweet-talk her with my mouth—I simply grabbed Ayoung’s breast in one big handful.
—Grab!
“Hyaat?!”
Ayoung’s eyes flew open in shock.
I didn’t let go of the breast I was clutching and asked casually,
“Surprised?”
Ayoung nodded rapidly.
So I explained in a soft, completely natural voice,
“I’m going to teach your body exactly how good my hands feel on a woman.”
While she was still being persuaded by my words, Ayoung’s gaze suddenly dropped to my crotch.
Her eyes went round.
Apparently she had only just now noticed my cock, which had been rock-hard for a while already.
“Are you… hard right now?”
“Of course. Even a guy with low libido would have a hard time not getting hard with a body this pretty right in front of him.”
I slipped the compliment in naturally.
Ayoung’s expression shifted into something a little complicated.
“A pretty body, huh…”
I kept gently kneading her breast as I continued.
I could feel her heart pounding fast inside my palm.
“Alright, tell me your erogenous zones. I’ll touch all of them. I’ll prove that the hands of a man you hate can feel incredibly good.”
“O… kay.”
Ayoung believed I was devotedly caressing her to help her overcome her trauma.
So after a brief silence she began telling me her sensitive spots.
“First… my breasts are sensitive. Especially the left nipple. I usually sleep on my left side hugging a pillow when I masturbate… so that side gets rubbed a lot.”
The moment I heard that I immediately started caressing her left breast with slow care.
Of course I didn’t rush like a pervert and ruin everything.
With just my fingertips I brushed the soft flesh of her tit in the lightest feather-like touches, gradually drawing out the pleasant sensation.
I kept up that ticklish stimulation until she grew a little used to it, then unexpectedly stroked the area around her areola with gentle fingers.
Deliberately avoiding the most sensitive nipple itself, I only massaged, stroked, and rubbed the surrounding area, teasing her.
“Nn, hngh…”
A thin moan slipped from Ayoung’s tightly closed lips.
It almost felt like I could hear the wet sound of her pussy getting soaked.