The Beginning of the Relationship 3
“Mmm, nice… real nice…”
Han Pan nodded as he drank in the sight of her body.
“You like it?”
“Yeah. Perfect… that elegant charm that never crosses the line, and then the sexy edge layered right on top of it… Damn… Mom, you’re incredible.”
His words left Mi-ho feeling thoroughly pleased.
“Mmm… my son’s too sweet…”
She took a couple of steps forward until she stood right in front of him. Even with the extra height from her heels she was still just a little shorter than Han Pan. Mi-ho tipped her face up and smiled at him.
That honey-sweet face of his made her smile linger. Looking at her precious, adorable son, she suddenly wanted to kiss his cheek.
“Come here a second, son…”
She crooked a finger, signaling him to lean down. Han Pan dipped his head without hesitation.
Smack.
Her lips brushed his cheek, and a small flutter stirred in Han Pan’s chest.
“Mmm…”
Mi-ho had kissed him almost without thinking. It felt a little awkward to do something like that to her fully grown son, but she forced a smile and started to turn away—only for Han Pan to catch her hand.
“I want to kiss Mom too…”
“Huh?”
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She turned back and offered her cheek as naturally as breathing. His lips pressed against her skin.
Smack.
The touch was softer and more practiced than she’d expected—definitely not the work of a beginner. The thought that her son must be an excellent kisser, followed immediately by the question of who else he’d kissed before, sent a tiny spike of jealousy through her.
An awkward beat passed. Mi-ho broke it first.
“Ah… well, Mom’s heading to work now. See you later.”
“Yeah… okay, Mom. Have a good day.”
She spun around a little too quickly and left his room, heading straight for the office.
Once she arrived, Mi-ho tried to throw herself into her work, but it proved harder than expected. She kept wondering how one person could take up so much space in her head; Han Pan’s presence refused to leave her thoughts all day. The image of him from that morning filled every corner of her mind. She had to shake her head more than once just to force herself to concentrate.
Time crawled by. By afternoon, with the important tasks finished, she checked the clock. It was already nearly three. The simple thought of getting home and seeing Han Pan again made her heart flutter ahead of schedule. She stood, gathered her bag, told her secretary she had an early appointment, and left the building.
On the way to the parking garage she enjoyed the looks and greetings from the male subordinates who recognized her. Being watched by men had always been a quiet pleasure—but nothing compared to the way her son looked at her. The idea that she was a dirty woman who got off on her own son’s lecherous gaze sent a delicious little jolt through her. Humming under her breath, she drove home, already aching to see him.
When she stepped into the living room she spotted Han Pan playing in the pool. She opened the glass doors and walked outside. The thick mid-August air wrapped around her. She watched her son cut steadily through the water, every muscle working, slicing forward like a killer whale—pure alpha male. Her emotions rose again as she stared at him with open fascination. Sensing her presence, Han Pan lifted his head and found her standing there, smiling at him.
Their eyes met.
“Having fun, son? You like the water?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Pool’s nice, right?”
“Perfect, actually.”
He let his gaze travel slowly over her body.
“Want to come in, Mom?”
Mi-ho hesitated, then declined.
“No… I think I’ll just rest for a bit first.”
He grinned.
“Yeah? Then I’ll get out too.”
“Okay.”
Han Pan climbed out of the pool. Mi-ho let out a soft breath at the sight of those broad shoulders and the clean lines of his body; the morning’s lingering heat connected straight to this moment. Water still clung to him, glittering under the sun and making every contour stand out even more. Then she flinched. The wet fabric of his swim briefs left little to the imagination—the size of her son’s cock was unmistakable. She realized at once how well-endowed he was and couldn’t understand how she’d never noticed before.
He shook the water from his skin and walked toward her, a living statue of David with a body that size to match. She could barely believe this man was her son. And she knew the feelings she’d been having weren’t wrong.
Mi-ho closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned away from him, stepping back inside. She walked slowly to the sofa, set her bag on the coffee table, and stretched out across the cushions, resting her legs on the throw pillow at the far end.
Han Pan came in after her, toweling off, and closed the glass door.
“Rest, Mom. I’m gonna change real quick.”
“Okay.”
He headed upstairs. Her eyes locked onto the long line of his back and the firm curve of his ass. She never would have imagined that simply having a man like that living under the same roof could rewrite her senses this completely—yet here it was, and it left her more than a little flustered.
A short while later Han Pan came back down in comfortable clothes and stood in front of her. Mi-ho assumed he wanted to sit and started to draw her legs in, but he simply moved the cushion aside and settled on the edge of the sofa. When she tried to sit up properly he stopped her.
“It’s fine, Mom… keep them stretched out.”
“Hmm?”
He pulled her legs onto his thighs.
“You must be tired.”
“Huh? Yeah…”
With practiced ease he took hold of her calves and began working the muscles in slow, deliberate strokes. Mi-ho’s body answered every press of his hands.
“Ah…”
“You’re really tight here, Mom… I’m pretty good at foot massages. Want me to?”
Something fluttered inside her.
“Mmm… maybe I should take my son up on a little service…”
The words were barely out before he started in earnest, kneading her calves with slow, thorough pressure. Soft sounds slipped from Mi-ho’s lips every time his fingers dug into the muscle—it felt wonderful.
For Han Pan, her smooth legs felt like warm milk and butter under his hands: straight, soft, yielding. After a while he slipped off the high heels she’d still been wearing, revealing neat little toes and white pedicure. He lifted one foot and began working it carefully, and her moans grew stronger.
“Ah… ah… son… you’re really good at this. Where’d you learn? They teach foot massage in the army now?”
“Just… picked up a few things here and there… heh.”
He thought briefly of Eun-ju. He’d massaged her feet often; she’d loved it, and he knew the soles of her feet were one of her sensitive spots. Curious how his mother would react, he pressed more firmly yet still gently into the soft flesh of her sole. Mi-ho’s sounds climbed another notch.
“Ah… ah… that feels so good… so refreshing… I might have to ask my son for a foot massage every day.”
“Anytime. Just say the word.”
He kept working with serious focus. The electric little sparks he sent through her feet melted the tension from Mi-ho’s whole body, leaving her loose and comfortable—yet every so often the solid shape of Han Pan’s cock brushed against the underside of her foot, and that contact made her pulse race. She found herself wondering what that cock would feel like in her hands. The thought braided itself into the physical pleasure until a sharp, electric tingle ran straight to her pussy. At this rate her panties would be soaked.
She decided it was time to stop and slowly drew her feet back.
“Mmm… thank you, son… Mom feels better now… I’ll take you up on it again next time…”
Han Pan, who’d been thoroughly enjoying the feel of her, set her legs down with a small, reluctant sigh.