Mi-jo's Photoshoot — Part 1
A short while later, So-jo knocked on his door and came in.
His eyes took in the way her breasts rose in soft peaks beneath her loose T-shirt, and the crane-long legs left bare by her dolphin shorts.
"Mom says come downstairs and eat."
"Yeah, yeah…"
As he stood to head for the living room, So-jo caught him and turned him back toward her. She offered him her lips. Han Pan smiled and kissed her.
A soft smack sounded. When he tried to turn away again, she pushed her mouth toward him once more and looped both arms around his neck. Laughing, he kissed her twice in quick succession — smack, smack.
Then So-jo pulled the body still wrapped around his neck flush against her own, tipped her head, and kissed him properly. She pressed herself harder into him. Her breasts and the curve of her hips met his body. Her frame was solid — a firmness different from the kind that came from working out.
The irritation she'd shown only moments before had vanished without a trace. Watching her kiss him like this, he thought, not for the first time, that women really were impossible animals to understand.
They lingered in the feel of each other's mouths for a while before finally pulling apart.
"Come on, let's go. Mom's gonna be pissed… well, she's already in a foul mood as it is…"
"Not much we can do about that…"
Han Pan shrugged and followed her out of the room.
When they reached the kitchen, Mi-ho had already started eating alone. The two of them sat carefully, reading her mood, and ate what had been set out. No one said a word.
Morning passed like that.
After the meal, Han Pan returned to his room and killed time reviewing the photos Mi-jo had given him. Most were erotic; some were outright explicit. What was unmistakable was the craft — professional photographers had clearly put real work into them, and the eroticism of a woman's body came through with striking clarity.
He sat at his desk and searched for more images in a similar vein.
A little later he heard a car pull away — his mother leaving the house for the office. Thinking of Mi-ho left his head tangled.
Then came another knock at his door. So-jo poked her face in, smiling brightly as she looked at him.
"What?"
"Just checking if you're doing okay…"
"I'm fine."
She stepped into the room. Light makeup, hair simply tied back, a plain T-shirt, a short pleated skirt, and tennis-style flats — she looked like a college student.
"Heading out for work?"
"Yeah. Script rehearsal. Going over there."
"You look pretty today."
"Heh. Do I?"
"Yeah. Pretty."
She came closer and offered him her lips. Han Pan smiled and closed his eyes. A soft smack, and they shared a brief kiss. When he opened his eyes again, she was grinning shyly.
"Have a good day."
"You too. When Mom gets home tonight… soothe her, okay…"
"Yeah. I will."
"Mom gets hurt easily… she's really sensitive. If you handle her well, she'll be fine… Be a man and step up first, you know?"
"Yeah, yeah."
He nodded. She smiled, closed the door, and was gone.
Once she'd left, Han Pan laid out a plan for the shoot and committed the samples she'd sent him to memory. Time moved fast; before he knew it, the hour when she would come pick him up was nearly there.
He showered, dressed, and packed his camera and gear. It had been a long time since his last shoot, and his chest was light with anticipation. At the same time, the thought of seeing Mi-jo alone stirred a quiet heat in him.
When he was ready, he went downstairs, stretched out on the living-room sofa, and waited. His phone buzzed with a KakaoTalk message. It was from Mi-jo.
Han Pan grabbed his things, stepped outside, and waited for her. It was the middle of a blazing summer day, brutally hot. Heat thick enough to melt a person clung to the air.
A moment later her black full-size Mercedes SUV rolled to a stop in front of him. The trunk lifted as Mi-jo opened the driver's door and appeared.
"Hi, Han Pan!"
Her distinctive high-toned voice carried over.
"Hello, Mi-jo ajumma."
Mi-jo laughed and waved her hands in protest.
"Oh, come on… Ajumma? When it's just the two of us, just call me noona… I'm still too young for ajumma… heh… well, I am a little older, sure… And speak casually. We've known each other for years…"
Han Pan smiled and dipped his head in a fresh greeting.
"Alright then. I'll treat you like a noona. Mi-jo noona."
"Yes — Mi-jo noona. I like the sound of that! Hohoho."
She came toward him wearing a short, fluttering yellow dress with a printed pattern, and a pair of oversized sunglasses on her face. He couldn't see her eyes properly, but her shoulder-length hair — clearly done at a salon — was swept cleanly to one side, making her look both cute and stylish at once.
She stopped in front of him and took the sunglasses off. Her face, finished with a full professional makeup job, came into view. Her features weren't large — neat, compact eyes and nose, small rounded lips — a cute image that sat in striking contrast to her height.
At a hundred and seventy centimeters with a modest C-cup, she had placed in beauty pageants, built a career on solid acting fundamentals, and for a time had worked steadily without ever lacking lead or supporting roles. Recognized for her craft and seasoned by a wide range of experience, she was a woman of real professional weight. Walk down the street and anyone who paid attention to television would know her face. But as her child grew, she had gradually turned her focus to education and stepped back from the entertainment industry.
Today, the thought of being photographed by a much younger, attractive man had stirred an excitement she couldn't quite name. That the man in question was someone she had known since he was a boy only sharpened it. She had other plans for the day as well, and she was curious how he would take control of the shoot.
As she approached, Han Pan noticed the earrings dangling and swaying beneath her ears, and the diamond ring on her left hand. Even though she was roughly the same age as Han Hye-su — with whom he'd had sex only yesterday — she carried far more volume, the unmistakable fullness of a married woman who had borne a child. She had the presence of a mature woman who had raised a child. Whether it was because she had finished raising him or something else, her sensuality was far more intense, and she carried the air of a woman who knew men well.
Smiling, he found the soft pink lipstick gleaming on her approaching lips, and the white teeth revealed by her smile, thoroughly captivating. The fact that he was about to photograph a woman he had known for so long — just the two of them — stirred a strange feeling in him.
The sleeveless dress left her arms bare and cut high enough to show a hint of thigh. The long, pale legs beneath it were strikingly beautiful. She had a very fine bone structure that lent her a delicate quality; her small face and long limbs in particular called a ballerina to mind.
But for Han Pan, the real highlight was the pair of classic-style stiletto heels in neon yellow that seemed deliberately matched to the dress. The heels looked to be a full twelve centimeters, the thin spike of them almost hypnotically seductive.
She came over and moved to help him load his gear into the open trunk. He waved her off, saying it was heavy, and packed everything himself. The trunk was already fairly full of her own bags — clothes, by the look of them. She had prepared thoroughly. When space ran short, Ban Mi-jo shifted a few bags to the back seat so his equipment would fit. Han Pan carefully loaded his gear so it wouldn't touch her things, then closed the trunk.
"Whew. Quite a load today… Shall we go?"
"Yeah."
Han Pan settled into the passenger seat. As the car pulled out, he began laying out the shoot ideas he'd come up with whenever they stopped. Ban Mi-jo listened seriously, filing away the direction he intended to take the session.
They had been driving for some time when Ban Mi-jo spoke.
"Han Pan… actually… there's one more reason I'm doing this shoot…"
She laid out what she'd been holding back.
"Huh? What is it?"
"Well, you're an adult, you know how these things go… married life gets stale after a while… You know that saying — couples are family, so they don't even kiss anymore? Hoho."
"Haha. Yeah, I've heard that."
"Mm. You met my husband yesterday — he's genuinely kind, sweet, a good man…"
"Ah, yes. He seemed really nice."
"He is. So I do have a good husband, a husband I love… but there's one hard part…"
She broke off, stared ahead at the road for a moment while she drove, then picked up again.
"Um… so… how do I put this… I feel like we need to put in some effort to get the heat back between us…"
"Right… right…"
"So, honestly, if you look at the photos I gave you yesterday, a lot of them are pretty high-intensity — and the truth is, I wanted them as a gift for my husband…"
"Wait — what???"