Chapter 3
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Mom and the Landlord, Mr. Lee
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"Hah... hah... Hey, I'm gonna cum inside? You on birth control these days?"
"Haa... haa... What?"
"I'm asking if you're on the pill, you bitch. You wanna pop out another kid? Huh? Gonna shit out like ten kids like a fucking sow, you cunt?"
"Fuck. Yeah, I am!"
Far too cheap and crass for the parents of two kids. They'd fit better as a delinquent high school couple... but in truth, both of them had been delinquent high schoolers not long ago.
"Ngh..."
Tremble tremble
With eyes filled not a shred of love—just pure lust—Dad glared down at Mom. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and started pumping into her mechanically, like filling up a gas tank. How do I know he was cumming? Mom's ass muscles twitched, thin moans leaked from her lips, and it was blatantly obvious from the wet glorp glorp sounds of semen flooding her womb.
Distracted by their beastly rutting, I stuck my head right out from under the blanket and stared openly at Mom in her bitch-in-heat pose, taking Dad's load.
Oedipus complex. You know it? That Freud guy said all boys unconsciously see their moms as sexual objects and their dads as rivals to eliminate. Sure, plenty call it bullshit, but damn if it doesn't fit me perfectly.
"Hngh... Gack, hack!"
In the heat of climax, Dad squeezed Mom's throat. He did that a lot during sex too—some breath play thing—but to me, it looked like her life was in danger.
I don't know what came over me. I burst out from under the blanket and shoved Dad with both hands as he was squeezing his load deep into Mom.
"Stop it!"
"What the fuck?!"
"I said stop! Don't hurt her!"
Back then, I was terrified of Dad. He lashed out with his fists at the drop of a hat, and even as a kid, I wasn't spared. But if the Oedipus thing is real, he must've looked like the villain stealing Mom away from me right then (and yeah, he was a villain).
"You fucking crazy?!"
He'd been blissfully dumping his seed into his personal onahole (yeah, that's exactly how he treated Mom) when his son suddenly charged in. Dad panicked too. But mid-orgasm, all he could do was shove me away roughly—he couldn't swing.
"Why hit the kid?!"
But Mom was still a mom, I guess. Some maternal instinct kicked in, and she wrapped her naked upper body around me as I fell.
Her lower half, though? Still pinned by Dad, getting pumped full of cock juice.
Weird, right? That's our family for you.
After that incident, you'd think they'd be more careful around us kids... fat chance.
They kept fucking every night.
"Haa... Oh fuck, aaah... Ah, ah!"
"Feels good? Feels good, you bitch... Ah... Moan louder."
"I dunno... Ngh... The kids are sleeping..."
They didn't pull out.
"Fuck, what am I supposed to do? Hey, turn over."
"Ngh... Ah... Oppa, you'll wake the kids..."
Ah, they'd wait an hour after turning off the lights for us to fall asleep before starting up. Kinda patient, I guess? They figured we'd be out cold by then. Mom even tried stifling her moans out of shame at getting caught by her kids, but Dad had zero patience for that.
Slap.
Squelch squelch squelch
Pussy juices splashing, flesh smacking... they fucked with zero subtlety. And Mom, trying so hard to hold back? Once Dad started pounding hard...
"Ngh... Haaang! Aang!"
She couldn't hold it anymore and let out those slutty noises.
Hearing that vivid pussy-pounding right next door every night... of course I grew up thinking every house did this.
"What? Your mom and dad fuck right next to you every night?"
"Uh... yours don't?"
"You're nuts. Hyun-seong's family is fucked up, kekeke."
Later, in upper elementary, when I got a bit smarter and vaguely knew what sex was, I asked around. Do your parents fuck right next to you? Naturally, I became the butt of jokes for a while. That's when I realized: our parents weren't normal.
And it wasn't just the sex thing that proved they weren't normal parents.
Like I said last time, Dad—Kang Tae-gu—hell, even now as a college student, I have no clue what he does for work. He'd vanish for days, wandering god-knows-where, then sometimes hole up at home for days when there was no "work," pounding soju and chain-smoking while lazing around.
Handsome face (probably how he snagged Mom easy), decent build, but his eyes? Dead fish, rotten and vacant. Classic no-future ex-delinquent punk. Dropped out of middle school, juvie, youth detention, adult prison—triple crown. Rap sheet longer than my arm. Unlucky me, that's my dad.
And as the breadwinner? He sucked at that too.
"Oppa. Rent's way overdue..."
"Fuck. Can't you handle that shit yourself?"
"What? How the hell am I supposed to? I've got two kids to watch!"
"Goddamn annoying. What do you want me to do? Huh? Did I tell you to have these fucking kids?!"
"Why talk like that? Did I make 'em alone? Huh? Who shot the load...?"
"What? You fucking bitch talking shit?!"
Smack!
"Ah!"
"You wanna die, you cunt? Huh?!"
Low self-esteem makes people overly aggressive, right? Classic trash punk—quick with the hands, textbook violent husband. And I had to live in that cramped one-room with them.
What would some Oh-seonsaengnim counselor say? Kids aren't at fault, blah blah—she'd bawl her eyes out. It was hell for me and my sister. I turned out okay-ish despite it, but it still fucked us up some.
But was Mom some pure, devoted victim? Hell no.
She was your typical incompetent, irresponsible delinquent dropout single mom... middle school dropout, technically.
Used childcare as an excuse not to get a job, but she wasn't even devoted to raising us.
And... honestly, even as her son, her guy problems were bad.
Once, around when I was heading into upper elementary...
"Mom, I'm hungry."
"Yeah. Boil some ramen."
"Again...?"
"Too lazy to cook."
"Got it. Want me to boil yours too?"
"Yeah. And Mi-hyun's."
That's how Mom was back then—always sprawled out, glued to her phone, too lazy for everything. Housework? Nah. Feeding the kids? Double nah. She cooked only rarely; mostly delivery or ramen. By the time I graduated kindergarten, I was the one boiling it most nights.
Not some "raise independent kids" bullshit. She just didn't give a damn if her son got hurt or whatever.
God, there are so many unqualified parents out there. Bad luck, I got stuck with 'em.
Pouting, I boiled the ramen. While it cooked, I snuck a glance back. Mom was still lounging, phone in hand. Her outfit? You know that Dongtan milf look—tight grey mini dress. Legs crossed while lying down, it rode up, exposing her thighs completely.
I was still a kid, but it felt embarrassingly weird. I had to look away.
Averted my eyes, focused on the ramen.
"It's done, Mom."
"Yeah. Set the table."
I set the table too, since she was lost in her phone game. She finally sat up slowly. Isn't this straight-up child abuse?
"Hey, Kang Mi-hyun. Eat."
"Not hungry."
"Fuck, I boiled three including yours?"
"I said no. Too lazy."
Oh yeah, forgot about my little sister.
I mentioned we're twins? Well, sorta—five minutes younger, with that old-fashioned name: Kang Mi-hyun.
Personality? Total brat. To me and Mom, anyway. With Dad? One wrong word and it's lights out, so she shuts up. In a house like ours, no way she turns out normal.
"Leave her. She'll eat if she gets hungry."
Mom slurped her ramen, head down, still phone-obsessed. The grey mini dress had a deep V-neck tank top. Leaning forward like that, her tits were fully on display right in front of me.
No matter that I was her son—wasn't she too careless? That's what flashed through my mind.
'......'
That's when it happened.
Thud thud.
"Ahem. Ahem! New bride! Come out here."
A knock at the door, and the landlord Mr. Lee's voice.
"Mom, rent overdue again?"
"Why's a kid worrying about that?"
Because we'd heard it more than once or twice?
Anyway, Mom jumped up, checked her look in the mirror quick, and flung open the door.
"Oh! Hello. What brings you here?"
Still in her home Dongtan look—that skin-tight mini tank dress.
"Ahem... Uh... Well..."
Kid me just stared blankly, but looking back grown-up, I can imagine Mr. Lee's view. Super revealing outfit, deep cleavage. And at home, she always went braless 'cause it's stuffy—nipples poking right through the thin fabric.
I didn't get it back then, but Mr. Lee's cheeks flushed bright red on the spot.