His Wife's Sweet Trap Part 1
Once the second semester started, I had a little more breathing room than I'd had in the first. Back in high school I'd imagined that college would mean living out those TV-show fantasies of a freewheeling campus romance — but an engineering student's daily grind wasn't all that different from high school. The only real change was that I could pick one or two of my own electives.
Looking at Yeonju's schedule was enough to make me feel genuinely robbed. She had a whole day off every week, and even her classes were generously spaced. Damn engineering school.
Still, a semester under my belt had taught me a few tricks, and I felt considerably more at ease. I'd even managed to get closer to the classmates who'd felt so distant at first.
Seongtae came from money, or at least he acted like it — whenever the guys went out drinking, he was almost always the one picking up the tab. He and I had gotten close working on a group project together, and since we liked the same games, we ended up at the PC bang a lot.
The unusual thing about him was that he was fanatically into betting. Normally he was generous with meals and drinks, but when it came to the pool-table fees from a wager, last place paid — no exceptions. And if he thought he was going to lose, he'd keep calling for another game, a third, a fourth, as many as it took. The guy was obsessed with winning.
Then one day Seongtae called me over. Three or four guys were already clustered around him, all of them looking at something and clearly enjoying themselves, so I wandered over.
"What's going on? Something good?"
"Remember those girls I told you about? The ones I said were sexy as hell. Fuck, I'd gotten them completely wasted — they were this close to putting out, all I had to do was seal the deal — and then those bitches insisted on going home at the last second."
"Yeah, I remember."
He'd told me about it during the first week of the second semester — how he'd nearly hooked up with some girls at a club and then blown it at the last minute.
"Dude, I ran into those bitches again. This time I even got their numbers. Those sluts showed up with their tits practically hanging out. Wanna see?"
What guy turns down pictures of sexy girls? He handed me his phone and I took it without hesitation, looking at the photos he wanted to show me.
"Huh??"
I couldn't help the sound that escaped me. Yeonju was in the photo he'd just shown me. She was in a private room with Hyejeong and a few other friends, drinks in hand, sitting among a group of guys.
And the next photo... Yeonju was sitting right next to Seongtae, his arm wrapped around her waist.
"Fuck, that was last Saturday. All I had to do was fuck them, but they threw a fit about going home, so I had no choice but to let them leave."
Looking at the clothes Yeonju was wearing, it was definitely her from that night.
"Check out the next one. Heh heh~ Get this — I ran into this bitch again the day before yesterday."
I swiped to the next photo like he said. And the moment I saw it, blood rushed straight to my cock and I went rock-hard.
Yeonju was sitting next to him again. She looked thoroughly drunk even at a glance, her head resting on Seongtae's shoulder. One of his hands was groping her large breasts, and the other had slipped under her skirt, wedged between her thighs.
The day before yesterday — that was the night Yeonju had come home early. I'd been getting on her case a little lately, and it had actually worked: she wasn't staying out all night or sleeping over anymore. But she'd gone to a club that night? And dressed like that...? She'd told me she was going to a friend's birthday party, and she definitely hadn't been wearing anything that revealing when she left.
Which meant Yeonju had lied to me and gone to a club. Why? Why would she do that? Because she thought I'd disapprove? She wanted to go out but didn't want me to know?
In the next photo, Seongtae's head was blocking Yeonju's face. He was still fondling her breasts and thighs as he pressed his mouth to hers.
The Yeonju in the photo wasn't moving, looking for all the world like she'd passed out drunk — but that night she'd come home almost completely sober. Which meant she was enjoying this.
Ah. It felt like something had just slapped me across the back of the head. That's right... I'd forgotten, just for a moment. Yeonju had always been a girl who enjoyed playing around.
"Pretty hot, right? Fuck, you have any idea how much I spent trying to get these bitches? They're all pretty, but the one next to me is a total knockout. Big tits, and when you grab them they're so soft — like a pair of water balloons."
Seongtae was showing off, watching my face.
"Yeah, she's pretty. So you got her number?"
"Yep, got the number. I've been working on her ever since. If it works out, you should come hang with us next time. The day before yesterday she clenched her thighs so I couldn't get to her pussy, but next time I'm gonna grope that mound until she can't take it. Heh heh heh~"
"Uh... yeah."
That day, the moment class ended, I went straight home and flopped onto the bed. And I thought quietly about Yeonju.
I stared at the ceiling, and the images of her from Seongtae's phone rose up behind my eyes. She didn't look any different from those club-girl photos that floated around the internet. The way she pressed herself into men's arms, the hands roaming over a woman's body — all of it was right there in the pictures on his phone.
Why did watching Yeonju get played by another man's hands turn me on?
Any ordinary man has a powerful urge to possess his woman, and I was no different. But I was strange: I wanted to own Yeonju, and at the same time I got hard watching her enjoy sex with other men. It wasn't that I only liked to watch, either. The last time I'd fucked her had been the most insanely aroused I'd ever been in my life.
Even now I wanted to hold her. I wanted to shove my cock down the throat Minyong had trained, all the way to the back, and use her mouth as freely as that hookup guy had.
And yet this morning — when I saw Yeonju sitting next to Seongtae, her head resting weakly on his shoulder, when I saw him groping her full breasts and stroking the plump inner flesh of her thighs — my cock had swollen hard, flooded with blood.
And then came that vague, hungry anticipation.
As if the next swipe would show Yeonju's breasts spilled out of her clothes, kneaded freely in Seongtae's hands — her cookie-sized areolas and stiff, jutting nipples being sucked as greedily as he pleased.
And finally I'd find myself expecting a video: Yeonju's legs spread wide, a thick cock ringed in coarse hair driving deep into the cave visible between the folds of her valley. She would clutch at Seongtae's thrusting hips and cry out in pleasure, wouldn't she?
The Yeonju in my fantasies was always a woman in heat — taking every man who entered her, her twitching hole leaking sticky semen mixed with her own juices. And I fed my desire on that image of her.
I did love Yeonju. I truly loved her. But why did seeing her in another man's arms turn me on automatically? Was it just the raw sexual heat of a dirty situation? That explanation didn't hold up — ordinary men flew into a rage, not arousal, at the sight of their girlfriend or wife having sex with someone else. The contrast was too stark.
Yeonju and I had been close since we were kids, almost like siblings. After puberty she became popular with guys, and even though I liked her — liked her the way you like a little sister — I never let it show. It just felt wrong, in some vague way, to want a girl I thought of as family.
So when had I first felt sexual desire for Yeonju?
It must have been then. Once I found out she'd been sleeping around with other men behind my back, I started imagining her having sex with them — and that was when the desire began. And when I saw the butterfly tattoo etched from her pubic bone down across the mound of her pussy, I think I finally understood exactly how I felt about her.
Later, watching her share a deep, wet kiss with Minyong, watching her get fucked by him and moan like a porn actress — that was when my lust exploded.
So was it just familiarity?
When Yeonju was moaning on Minyong's cock, I fucked Ji-eun and imagined it was her. And watching Yeonju suck on the head of Minyong's dick like a piece of candy, I came down Suyeon's throat.
After that, every time I heard how Minyong had fucked Yeonju, I did the same things to Ji-eun and pictured Yeonju instead. I watched the videos Minyong had taken of her, and the one that hookup guy posted on social media — Yeonju looking like a bitch in heat — and I couldn't hold back. I jerked off to them alone.
I was already used to the sight of Yeonju in another man's arms, used like a bitch in heat. And I was used to getting off on it.
So what was I supposed to do from here?
I'd already fucked Yeonju, after all. And I wanted to keep fucking her. But confessing to her out of nowhere felt wrong right now. She might still think of me as family — what would happen if I just dumped a confession on her?
If she accepted me, we'd become a couple. But if she turned me down, our entire relationship might end right there.
Alright. I'll take my time and approach her slowly. If I start coming at her as a man, little by little, someday she'll start seeing me as one too.
That was what I decided, for now. I'd stay by her side the way I always had, and without rushing, I'd slowly take root in her heart as a man. And I would change, too. Instead of just watching her, I needed to become the kind of man who actually said something about the way she was living.
I figured I'd go to her room that night. Fortunately she came home early, and we ate the dinner I'd prepared, watched TV, and spent the rest of the day in a good mood.
"What are you staring at?"
Before bed, Yeonju came out of the shower and caught me watching her. She stared right back.
"Nothing. Just looking."
"If you've got something to say, say it. You've been sneaking glances at me all night."
"It's nothing. Go on. I should shower too."
Yeonju snorted a little laugh and went into her room, and I took my shower. When I was done, I opened her door.