Washing It All Away

I had stripped off and stepped into the bathroom ahead of her, and before long Sung-ha came in with a towel wrapped around her body.

I was sitting on the bath stool working up a lather when embarrassment crept over me, and I turned my face away with reddening cheeks. With the soft, catlike tread I knew so well, Sung-ha slipped up behind me.

A pleasant scent of lilacs drifted over me as her swaying hair brushed against my shoulders and back, teasing my bare skin.

"What's wrong, Oppa? Don't tell me… you're embarrassed? It's just me washing you. What's there to be shy about?"

"Ahem!"

She knew exactly what she was doing, and all I could manage in answer to that mischievous question was a cough and a hotter face.

The truth was, my cock had been hard since before Sung-ha even walked in — the situation was straight out of a Japanese adult video.

I'd seen her naked body plenty of times by now, but that was beside the point. A scene like this carried its own particular charge no matter how familiar the view.

And this scenario — the one every man dreams of — sharpened that charge into something unbearable.

Just as I was about to sink properly into the mood, the image of Arin lying in the other room surfaced in my mind, and my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heart grew heavy.

Our first meeting with Arin, and then the silver-haired girl of unknown identity we'd run into at the park — remembering them, I realized there was a lot I needed to tell Sung-ha. Maybe even confess.

"Sung-ha, before we start, there's something I—"

"Can't that wait until later, Oppa? Right now I just want to treasure my time with you…"

Having read my intention before I could voice it, Sung-ha soothed me in a voice like warm silk, then drew one slender fingertip down my spine in a single languid stroke.

At that soft, exquisitely delicate touch of a woman's hand my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spine straightened on its own, and the heaviness in my head loosened and dissolved.

"In that spirit, let's wash the outside filth away first. The filth of… another's touch."

"…Okay."

Swish… swish…

The shower ball, lathered thick with body wash, glided down my back — cool and soothing all at once.

My shoulders, then my back… my buttocks… my sides… trailing across my armpits, it swept away everything the day had left on my skin with methodical care.

Being washed by a woman's hands for the very first time left me tense and yet flushed head to toe with an indescribable pleasure.

Plop.

"Nnh!"

Something dropped softly to the floor, and then two plump, yielding mounds pressed down firmly against my back.

With them came a sensation no man's body could ever produce — skin like woven silk, carrying the natural warmth of a living human, pressing against me everywhere at once.

My cock, already standing at rigid attention, surged even harder, straining upward in eager protest.

Swish.

"Ha— nnh!?"

A hand reached around from behind and gently closed around my aching length, and my body jolted as if shocked, a short, girlish moan escaping my lips before I could stop it.

Swish… swish…

The lather-slick fingers started at the crown of the head and slid slowly down the shaft, all the way to the base where it met my balls.

Beneath the softness was something else too — an unbearably thorough pressure, as if she were scrubbing off genuine grime, painstaking and precise.

Honestly, I couldn't tell anymore whether this was still bathing — the act of removing impurities — or something far more lewd and secret. Or perhaps it was both.

Whatever it was, the only thing I could do was surrender myself entirely to her hands.

As she diligently scrubbed me, Sung-ha hummed some strange little tune under her breath.

I could have let it wash over me, but listening closely, the lyrics sent a chill crawling up my spine.

I surrendered myself to the pleasure of that touch — efficient yet blissfully ambiguous, blurring the line between hygiene and sin — until Sung-ha murmured, sweet and casual:

"Oppa, could you stand up for a moment, grab the sink with both hands, and push your hips back toward me?"

I thought I'd misheard her.

Before I could ask what she meant, she added:

"I'll wash your anus for you."

"…Sorry, what?"

I thought I'd misheard her again.

"The inside needs cleaning too. Don't worry, Oppa — my tongue doesn't carry a single germ, so it's perfectly fine to put it inside you."

As if to prove her point, Sung-ha — still kneeling — stuck out her tongue in showing-off fashion: long and slender, pale with only the faintest blush of pink.

"…Your tongue? No wait, that's not— don't tell me…"

When I hesitated, the scene from those ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠adult videos flashing vividly through my mind, Sung-ha wiggled her body and urged me on in a voice dripping with aegyo.

Despite my faltering hesitation — despite the strange, curling shame of it — I couldn't hold out against the instinctive, animal pull toward pleasure, and I obeyed her instructions.

I pushed my hips back, baring the other orifice, the one that existed for excretion, presenting it openly to her view. And in that moment, for just a heartbeat, I understood what it might feel like for a woman to bare her most intimate place.

Slurp…

"Khh…"

That warm, small, living organ — the kind found only inside a human mouth — began to lick deep into the cleft of my ass.

Someone's tongue on my anus. I had never felt anything like it in my life. It tickled and ached at once, filling me with a nameless sense of debauchery that kept the place from ever relaxing closed.

"Mmh… mmh, shlrp… haaaah… shlp, shlp!"

The initial light licking had been a feint. Sung-ha buried her whole face between my buttocks and, with her saliva-drenched tongue, set about worshipping my hole and everything around it in earnest.

And then—

Creak.

"Hahk."

When that long, warm tongue pressed inside me in a slender, curled shape, my hands clenched white-knuckled around the sink before I knew it.

Gripping both my buttocks tight so I couldn't escape, Sung-ha began working her tongue in and out of me in a slow piston rhythm — the same back-and-forth motion as a man moving inside a woman.

Then, as if she knew every one of my weak points by heart, the buried tongue drove hard against my prostate, again and again. My whole body seized up, and my cock snapped upright all on its own.

"Wha—!? Nngh!? Ah…!"

Even as I panted and buckled under these unprecedented sensations, Sung-ha — crouched on all fours like a beast beneath me, hand wrapped around the cock swinging between my legs — milked it with steady, unhurried strokes.

The calm, rolling pressure of the prostate stimulation from behind merged with the slow, certain rhythm of my shaft, like a farmer milking a cow — the two pleasures doubled each other into something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠overwhelming.

"I'm— I'm gonna—!"

Just as my mind blanked out and I opened my mouth to surrender—

Pop.

Every crackling wave of pleasure vanished from my body at once, like a lie.

"Wh— huh? Why…?"

My cock, denied at the very edge, trembled pathetically in the air.

I twisted my head to shoot her a questioning look, and saw Sung-ha withdrawing from me.

"Not yet, Oppa. I told you, didn't I? I'm going to wash the inside of you clean too."

Slurp.

She licked my taste from her lips with lingering relish, then said something I couldn't make sense of.

Ordinarily, the moment I said I was close, she would have opened her mouth or something lower to greedily swallow it all. But tonight's Sung-ha was a little different.

She seemed resolved — fiercely resolved — to wash away not just what clung to my body, but something buried even deeper inside me.

Drip.

Watching her stare fixedly, unblinking, at my cock while drool dripped from her lips, I changed my mind.

…I didn't know what she was planning, but apparently Sung-ha was desperately holding herself back too.

"Oppa, close your eyes for just a few seconds?"

"Huh? Ah— sure…"

The moment my eyes shut, in the sudden darkness I heard something twisting and warping with an eerie sound.

I forced down my unease and endured it, and then Sung-ha's voice reached me.

"You can open your eyes now, Oppa."

"Hah! Blink…! Whoa…"

When I opened my eyes, a naked woman was standing right in front of me, hands folded demurely together, wearing something very like a customer-service smile.

Who…?

…Ah.

For a second I thought it was a face I'd never seen. It wasn't.

It was the woman from the major corporation's headquarters — the one who'd chewed me out this morning and then apologized.

Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, netted in place like a flight attendant's, exposing a cleanly parted forehead.

Beneath the smile manufactured for greeting customers, she looked to be in her mid-thirties — less fresh and girlish than worn smooth by years of hard experience.

Dark, defined eyebrows, eyes framed with clear shadow, pale pink lips — makeup measured and restrained throughout.

Her naked body, with every inch now on display, wasn't fat by any means, but it wasn't the model-slim figure Sung-ha or Ji-yun had either.

There was a softness at her belly and thighs — a little extra flesh that, rather than looking unattractive, gave her an oddly human warmth.

From what I could piece together, Sung-ha seemed to have reproduced, exactly as she'd looked, the woman as she'd appeared when we first met.

"She's a married woman, Oppa. Married in her early twenties, already a mother with a daughter in elementary school. The genitals of a woman who carried a living, breathing life inside her… and the breasts that child suckled at when she was born."

From behind the woman, who stood smiling like a machine, Sung-ha fondled one of her breasts and her crotch, flashing me a foxlike grin, silently urging me toward something.

Gulp.

At the sight, my throat bobbed once, hard, and the cock that had momentarily wilted surged back to full, aching erection.

…Ah.

Only now did the events at the store come back to me, and as I opened my mouth to ask, Sung-ha cut me off at the pass.

"Don't worry, Oppa. I promised, remember? That I would never do anything that worried you. Yes, I made contact — but she's completely unharmed. This woman is just like that human, Ji-yun. A… real doll born from my body. Made for you."

Whether she meant it or not, that last word choice struck me as so obscene that the throbbing between my legs only got worse.

"And now it's time to release the stress on the inside, Oppa. I told you, didn't I? That I'd wash away even what's within. Take everything — every nasty feeling this whole day piled onto you — and vomit it all out onto this doll I've made. Beat her black and blue like a sandbag if you want. Ravage her as much as you like. And at the end of it… you can even kill her. Don't worry, Oppa. This is not a living being. No one gets hurt. If she breaks, you throw her away — you don't even have to go through the tedious trouble of recycling her. She's nothing more than an adult's plaything. So… play with her however you want, Oppa. As much as you want."

A thing alive and not alive at once.

Registered nowhere in human society — a tool that could be killed, violated, wounded, without ever being judged by a single moral code or law.

Something that would move exactly as I commanded, soothing the darkness inside me and sating my lust — an adult's instrument.

A living real doll.

That seductive, guilt-free word rang through my skull like a bell.

The girl in the park had said it to me.

That I was warping. That I was becoming twisted.

And I hadn't been able to deny it.

I hadn't been able to rage at her for it, either.

Because it was true. Because I had already known it myself.

Ever since the day I'd had my way with Ha-neul — the nation's little sister, the idol still dancing on her stage at this very moment — something inside me had begun bending, and it had never stopped.

Frankly?

I intended to enjoy this twisting of mine now, without a shred of hesitation.

As I acknowledged that something in me once more, a smile had already bloomed across my face, fed by arousal.

And seeing it, Sung-ha smiled too — deeper, sweeter, and wider than before.