The Broken Faucet
A dense thicket of hair covered Min-ah's sex.
She had wanted it waxed, but they'd told her she needed her parents' consent, and that had been the end of it. Doing it herself was no better — she was afraid it wouldn't come out looking pretty.
It has to look beautiful for Daddy.
So Min-ah had given up on touching it herself. She'd heard what happened when amateurs tried Brazilian waxing: the skin came out bumpy, or worse, stubbled like a man's unshaven jaw.
If Daddy thinks it looks dirty, that's the one thing I can never allow.
Min-ah liked to see things with her own eyes. Masturbation was no exception. She wanted to know exactly what she was touching. But the hair covering her sex hid her clitoris from view, and it was driving her insane.
"I'm an adult now... I should get it waxed soon."
She began to pick through the dark forest with her fingers.
Careful... careful...
She was extremely careful not to let a fingertip slip inside the opening. That hole belonged to her father.
Twenty years old. A virgin of legal age. As merchandise went, she was a luxury item — and Min-ah wanted to offer that prize specimen up to Eun-hyeok. She prayed he would devour her sex with relish.
Gratitude toward the father who had made her. Submission to the man she loved.
Min-ah believed Eun-hyeok was her biological father. What would happen if she ever learned he wasn't? Would she despair at the knowledge that he wasn't her dad? Or would she rejoice that the bloodline standing in her way had simply... vanished?
A tap.
"Ah—hh..."
The instant her finger grazed the bud of her clitoris, lightning seemed to split Min-ah's skull.
"Hh... hnnn..."
She pressed down with her index finger.
"Haaah—!"
It was as if a bolt of lightning had been driven, raving, into her belly. The shock faded almost at once into something familiar — and in its place, a tight, aching pull gathered deep in her abdomen. Some mad, nameless thing was collecting in her lower belly, a sensation she had never felt in her life, and Min-ah's back began to arch, little by little, into a bow.
Her finger, wound too tight, slipped. It skidded off the clitoris and flicked free.
"Hgyaah?!"
Whatever she had been pinning down came loose all at once. A pleasure like holding in urine and finally letting go flooded through her entire lower body.
And it was actually coming out of her.
From Min-ah's split, swollen sex — puffy as a brine-plumped oyster — a clear, whitish fluid sprayed in a sudden burst, like a mist from a nozzle. The accidental flick of her clitoris had detonated the juices pooled inside her, and the stimulation had wrung them out in a rush.
"Hauu—!! Hnnn—!!"
Min-ah clapped her other hand over her mouth. Her father was in the house, but his room sat on the opposite diagonal; unless she made a real noise, he wouldn't come running. The problem was that her moans were punching out of her at a volume she could no longer control.
"What is this... why... why does it feel this good..."
The bedding beneath her was soaked beyond any hope of hiding it. The stimulation was so violent it felt as if she might come apart.
I have to stop... if I keep going, my head... my body... they'll both be wrecked...
Her fingers, traitorously, were already moving back toward her sex. Every desire she had been holding down until now.
A thin, wet trickle. The juices wouldn't stop. The faucet of her reason, mishandled, had broken completely.
Ah... what do I do...
Min-ah was growing frightened. The fear of no longer being able to govern herself. If those uncontrollable moans spilled out of the room, her father would know. And if he caught her masturbating... there was no worse situation imaginable.
So she tried to stop.
No... my fingers won't stop...
Pleasure is a terrifying thing. It melts reason itself. You do it even though you know you shouldn't. That is the nature of addiction. An overwhelming ecstasy you have never tasted before — and the instant it vanishes, a despair so sharp you would do anything to banish it. To banish it, you have to keep the pleasure going. That is how the hook sets.
A woman's clitoris. The glans of her sex, a primary erogenous zone, packed with nerve endings so dense that the lightest touch yields sexual stimulation with almost insulting ease.
Min-ah had endured every kind of sexual stimulus until now. She had been saving her virginity for her father.
She knew, better than anyone, that she was beautiful. She had hidden it so thoroughly that she'd been able to live a quiet academic life; she was perfectly aware that if she had dressed up even a little, she could have cycled through any man she wanted. The moment she locked her father in as her first and last lover, she had begun to seduce him.
What she had failed to account for was this: to him, Min-ah was only a young, adorable daughter. His unyielding sense of ethics did the rest.
As a last resort, she had asked him to wash her — to put her body in front of his eyes. She had wanted Eun-hyeok's cock to rise at the sight of how grown she was.
Breasts past a D-cup, teardrop-shaped as if they'd been surgically designed. Nipples a soft pink, neither too large nor too small, the finishing stroke on the painting. A waist so slim it made the wide flare of her hips look almost violent. Behind, a peach of an ass, plump and ripe enough that even Min-ah found it appetizing. She was already past 170 centimeters and climbing toward the mid-170s, her legs longer than her torso, the line of them sharp enough to make the eye flinch.
There's no way he wouldn't get hard touching a body like this.
Min-ah had a single objective: to turn her father into a beast. It was the most efficient path. She had studied a great many cases of incest, and the conclusion was always the same. A one-sided relationship, where mutual lust had never been confirmed, broke one hundred percent of the time.
Min-ah was certain of her love and her desire. Eun-hyeok was not. Even when she bared herself to him — even when he put his hands on her body and washed her — nothing happened below his waist. He did not get hard.
Min-ah had despaired. Her father did not see her as a sexual being. The dread that she would never, in her entire life, be able to make him her man came down on her like a weight.
She was half-resigned when she learned of a shaman who did readings. A mudang whose name traveled by whisper. At first Min-ah hadn't believed. Then she had no choice. Men and women who should never have come together walked out of that woman's rooms and, as if by some unholy trick, were bound. To Min-ah she was a rope thrown to a drowning girl. Rotten or not, she would have grabbed it.
The shaman she found was the real thing. She named truths Min-ah had never spoken. And just like that, Min-ah fell under her.
The shaman's voice was harsh, stripped of courtesy, the old half-speech of someone who did not bother with the living.
"Is there no way it could happen before that?"
Plenty of people dismissed shamans as superstition. Min-ah believed every word. She had watched impossible couples become possible; she would do the same for the forbidden love between herself and her father. So she endured. Until she had met the condition the shaman had named.
And she had met it. Then, at the last step, she had slipped.
Min-ah was impatient. She could not wait any longer. It was like holding it in just fine when the bathroom was far away — and then, the moment you got close, the need became unbearable. The instant her father entered the realm of what she could actually have, Min-ah's lust detonated.
Shameful words began to spill from Min-ah's mouth as if they were nothing. Inside her head, the image of Eun-hyeok's erect cock surfaced — and then it occupied everything.
She had seen her father's erection only once. The night she slept with him. She had wanted, that night, to fall asleep holding him, so she had waited until he was under and wrapped herself around him and drifted off again.
Huh... what is that... it's hot...
She woke because something burning was pressed against her body.
Oh... oh no—!!
She couldn't help but startle. Something thick and dark-red was jutting out of her father's pants, standing in the open.
Hh... hiii—!
The sight of it was so obscene she yanked the blanket over it in a panic and scrambled away from him.
Then she looked it up. She learned what it was. A man's sex, erect — and the act of putting that thing inside a woman's body was the peak of physical love between a man and a woman.
It was around then, too, that Min-ah learned the dirtier words for what a man and a woman had between their legs.
Daddy's cock... Daddy's cock...
She tried not to think about it. She thought about it anyway.
I want it in my pussy... Daddy's cock...
It was instinct. A woman's instinct to take the seed of a biologically superior man — and the measure by which she judged that superiority was the man's erect cock. Min-ah had been faithful to that instinct with almost scholarly precision.
Reason did not stand a chance against a girl whose entire skull was full of her father's cock.
She pressed down.
"Haaaaaang!!!"
Min-ah's fingers found her clitoris again, and began to work.