Mom Has Changed (2/2)
Han Pan flushed slightly, wondering if his thoughts had shown on his face.
No matter how you spun it, thinking of his own mother as a sexual object felt wrong. And yet there was no denying it—his mother had an incredible body now.
He worried that plenty of men at her company must be secretly eyeing that figure of hers, but at the same time, walking beside a woman so many men would desire filled him with a strange, quiet pride.
They soon reached her black Range Rover. She opened the trunk, and Han Pan easily lifted his suitcase and tucked it into a corner. Feeling lighter, he slid into the front passenger seat—Mi-ho was already behind the wheel. She pulled out of the building and before long they were rolling along Dosan-daero in Gangnam.
Halfway home, Han Pan asked, “So when did you get the surgery?”
She laughed. “Hohoho. Mom’s chest sure has your attention, doesn’t it?”
Looking sheepish, he said, “Well… it is pretty surprising news…”
Mi-ho smiled. “Roughly half a year ago?”
“Huh, really? Then how come I never noticed all this time?”
She laughed brightly. “That’s why you should’ve been video-calling more often… One or two KakaoTalks a week saying nothing’s new, and barely a phone call every month or two—of course you wouldn’t notice. So now you’re finally taking an interest? Men really are all the same—!”
“Oh… so someone else already figured it out, huh…”
Still smiling, Mi-ho kept her eyes on the road. “After I came back from the surgery, the way the men looked at me completely changed… Of course, my clothes changed a bit too…”
Han Pan had to agree. Even before, her chest hadn’t been small, but she never wore anything that drew attention to it. Her fairly conservative nature played a part—she’d always believed a woman ought to be demure. But the divorce, it seemed, had been a genuine turning point for her. That earlier remark about finding a boyfriend no longer sounded like a joke.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?”
“Nothing… Still… I feel a little bad.”
“About what?”
“Not paying more attention to the family.”
Mi-ho shook her head. “No… If anything, I’m grateful you understood your father and me. Seo-a and So-jo took it in stride too. Mom just wants you kids to be happy…”
“Yeah… I’ll do better from now on…”
She took one hand off the wheel, reached over, and pinched his cheek. “Aigoo… Our boy’s doing just fine. Don’t worry about Mom—worry about yourself. Hohoho.”
“Yes… hehehe…”
As he said it, Han Pan snuck another look at her chest. The line was unmistakably fuller than before, the volume locked in tight. The sudden urge to feel it rose in him, and he asked, “Mom… can I touch them once?”
“Touch what?”
He fumbled. “Uh… your chest…”
Mi-ho shot him a sidelong glare. “Honestly, this kid… A grown man wanting to feel up his mother’s breasts… Is that any way to behave?”
Her scolding made him shrink a little. “I just… wanted to feel what they’re like now…”
She hesitated. The truth was, since the surgery, no one had touched her breasts. So-jo had dragged her out to clubs now and then to cheer her up, but compared to her daughter—who threw herself into nights out with friends—Mi-ho’s age left her feeling out of place. She’d wanted the courage to play with the men who came over, but the age gap and So-jo’s watchful eye kept her perched alone, nursing a drink and watching the twenty-somethings from a distance. Sometimes So-jo would pull her onto the stage to dance. Men would swarm them, and So-jo would brush them off with practiced ease. Once, some stranger had come up behind Mi-ho, grabbed her waist, and ground against her—the brush of his cock had left her thoroughly stirred up.
Lately, Mi-ho’s libido was at an all-time high. Training almost every day with her eldest, Seo-a—who ran a fitness center—she’d piled on heavy weights, yoga, and pilates until her stamina soared, and her sex drive had climbed right along with it. As her body transformed, her self-esteem climbed back up too; she felt ready to meet a man whenever the chance came. But there was nowhere to properly vent the hunger. All she could do was sneak a dildo a friend had gifted her into her pussy late at night.
She’d wanted to seduce someone, but her social standing—and the fact that the divorce was still so recent—made the idea of dating feel somehow shameful in front of her children. That inner conflict only sharpened with time, and her desire twisted into a craving for men’s gazes. She stopped refusing revealing clothes; the stares that followed sometimes left her wet. Then she’d go home and masturbate to the fantasy of those leering eyes, of being taken by them.
On top of that, So-jo had talked her into a Brazilian wax. She’d stripped every hair from the neck down, and now and then she would stand naked before the full-length mirror, striking filthy poses. Especially when she stroked those plump, swollen breasts and twisted her nipples—the pleasure hit hard. So when her own son asked to touch them, she was more than a little flustered.
Han Pan watched his mother hesitate and decided she might just give in. He pushed again. “Mom, just once… I’m seriously curious…”
She answered on reflex. “Honestly… Go get a girlfriend and touch hers!”
“Aw, come on, Moooom… It’s my discharge wish!”
“What?”
Mi-ho was speechless. Begging to feel up her breasts as a gift for getting out of the military was absurd—and yet some unnameable voice inside her was pulling her toward it. After a moment’s thought, realizing they were almost home, she said, “Fine… Once we get to the house…”
Han Pan lit up. “Really?”
“Yes, yes… Ugh… You’re impossible… A discharge gift… What’s so great about an old ajumma’s chest like mine…”
He shook his head. “No, Mom… You look amazing right now.”
The praise pricked her ears. “Really?”
“Of course!”
“How amazing?”
“No joke… If you weren’t my mom, I might’ve hit on you on the spot… Hahaha.”
He laughed freely. Whether he meant it or not, Mi-ho felt wonderful. It had been far too long since anyone had praised her looks so boldly.
The car left the main Gangnam thoroughfare and turned down a quieter fire lane. Moments later they pulled up in front of a house ringed by high walls, the kind that looked like a country villa. The first-floor garage door opened on its own, and Mi-ho’s car slid down into the underground parking bay as if being swallowed whole.
This was the two-story home Park Mi-ho’s father had commissioned from a renowned architect. The basement held parking, and a park nearby gave the place a quiet mood far removed from Gangnam’s usual bustle—a classic urban country house, surrounded by others just like it, and well known for that very atmosphere.
When the car stopped, Park Mi-ho unbuckled her seatbelt and turned toward him. “This is so weird… A grown son saying he wants to feel his mom’s breasts… You’re still such a kid!”
“Hehe…”
Pushing down the excitement rising inside him, Han Pan slowly reached out with both hands—and Mi-ho said, “That look on your face right now is way too filthy.”
Flustered, he forced a smile. “No—I just want to know Mom’s new body, that’s all…”
Mi-ho could tell he was plenty lecherous, but she too was caught in some strange feeling as she offered her chest toward him. Han Pan eased his hands forward, settled them over her breasts, and slowly savored the sensation. Softness met his palms, and beneath it the rough line of her bra. There was lace—take it off and it would be quite the showy piece, he thought.
He kneaded and explored for a while. For Park Mi-ho, having someone touch her breasts after so long sent a flutter through her. Even if that someone was her own son, it barely registered. No—if anything, it felt good. A strange current passed between them; both their breathing roughened slightly. Then Park Mi-ho decided they couldn’t cross any further line. She gently drew back and said, “That’s enough, son…”