Phase 1. That Hui-gyeong Girl (15)
After I finished my shower and stepped out, a full feast was waiting on the table.
Doenjang stew and rolled omelet, of course, plus a thick frankfurter sausage and all sorts of namul side dishes. On a normal night Mom would scrimp—rice, soup, two sides, done—but the sudden explosion of dishes left me blinking in confusion.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Hui-gyeong and I went shopping today and cooked together~. We got so into it the whole thing just ballooned~.”
I shot that Hui-gyeong girl a look of pure surprise; she folded her arms under her chest and snorted.
“What? I’m good at cooking. I’ve packed plenty of lunchboxes.”
I deliberately didn’t ask whose lunchboxes, or how many times.
Even she seemed to realize she’d put her foot in it; she cleared her throat.
“Ahem. Want me to pack one for you too?”
“Pass. Mom’s cooking’s better.”
“Who the hell are you to turn me down!”
I’d only been teasing the way I always did, but the reaction that came back was ferocious. She was genuinely pissed, shoulders heaving with every angry breath.
“I made all of this with Mom, so you don’t get any.”
“Hui-gyeong~. You’re not a child. Why act so petty.”
“Mom, he’s looking down on me!”
“Gyeong-hun, why are you like that to her? She worked so hard today cooking everything just the way you like it.”
“Ah! M-Mom, why’d you say that!”
…So she’d really put in the effort.
I ate bland by default; matching my palate wouldn’t have been easy. I let a look of genuine pride flash in my eyes. She felt it, pouted, and whipped her head away.
“Sit. Just eat.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
We laid out the utensils and took our seats around the square table. Hui-gyeong sat across from me, Mom beside me; both lifted their chopsticks. I waited for Mom to take the first bite of rice, but instead she simply stared at me.
“Mom, why aren’t you eating?”
“You go first.”
“You’re the adult here.”
Mom smiled with quiet grace and set a piece of rolled omelet onto my spoon.
“In this house you’re the head of the family, Gyeong-hun. The head is the most adult person here, so you eat first.”
I still wanted to argue that it didn’t feel right, but bickering over a meal was worse. I had no choice. Chopsticks and rice and the omelet she’d given me all went into my mouth together.
“It’s good! Not salty at all. Oh~ Jo Hui-gyeong, you really can cook?”
It wasn’t empty praise. Soft, mild egg aroma, perfect with rice. I called her name on purpose to give her a rare compliment, but—
“The omelet was mine. Hui-gyeong’s surprisingly bad at rolled omelets, actually.”
Mom blocked the praise like a goalkeeper, clean and merciless.
“The soup’s refreshing too.”
“That’s because I made the stock.”
“And the sausage—not just one cut, but cross-hatched one by one?”
“That way it doesn’t burst and cooks all the way through faster.”
“Hui-gyeong do that?”
“No. She cut too deep and the sausages just fell apart, so I did it.”
…At this point Mom was basically carrying her. Exactly what dish had that Hui-gyeong girl even made? If even the sausage—something you just boil or pan-fry—had been Mom’s work, what the hell was left?
“This.”
She dumped a heap of seasoned bean sprouts straight onto my rice.
“I made it. Eat.”
She couldn’t scold Mom, so she just sat there staring only at me; the intensity was unnerving. Reading the room, I shoveled a big mouthful. Crunchy, well-dressed with sesame oil, savory and solid.
“Mom, eat already. You too, Hui-gyeong.”
“Shall we?”
At last Mom smiled and lifted her chopsticks. She immediately grabbed a generous pinch of the bean sprouts, brought them to her mouth, and ate with a crisp crunch.
“Mm! Hui-gyeong’s bean-sprout namul turned out wonderfully~.”
Even under Mom’s praise, that Hui-gyeong girl still hadn’t picked up her spoon. I had been happily piling food into my mouth when I felt her stare and looked up.
Look at those eyes, wide open while someone else is eating. House rule: never mess with a person mid-meal. She was about to break it.
“Haa. What?”
“If you ate it you should say how it tastes.”
“Mm. It’s fine.”
“…Fine? Just ‘fine’?”
“Huh? What?”
“Nothing. Keep eating. Enjoy.”
I tried to ignore the continued muttering and go back to my chopsticks when something suddenly brushed between my legs. It pressed exactly where my cock stood, then stroked slowly up and down. My spineless dick took the hint at once and swelled like the Ruyi Jingu Bang.
I glanced down. One bare foot was planted squarely on the head of my cock. Catching me looking, her toes splayed wide and gave me a little wink-greeting. That Hui-gyeong girl smiled with her eyes; I kept chewing rice with deliberate calm. Terrified Mom would notice, I yanked my chair in and pressed myself tight against the table. In that same moment the other foot glided over, and both of them began to explore my crotch.
The table was small, but not so small she could simply stretch her legs and reach. She had slid down a little, almost to waist height, and now stared straight into my eyes while slowly tracing from the head all the way down the shaft. She clearly wanted to go faster, but fabric would rasp too loudly; she was being careful in her own way.
“Jo Hui-gyeong. Eat something. Why aren’t you even touching your food?”
“Yeah… I should.”
Unable to stand it any longer I spoke up. She deftly speared a frankfurter with her chopsticks; at the same instant one foot settled firmly on my cock-head. She brought the sausage to her face. That wide mouth opened, and her small, long tongue licked from tip to base in one slow swipe. Below the table the other foot began stroking my shaft.
The sausage disappeared into her throat. Something only two fingers thick, pushed all the way in; then she stuck her tongue out again and gave me another wicked, smiling look. Her toes clamped hard around the head of my cock. Pain and a strange, sharp pleasure hit at once; my dick kept swelling, relentless. A strange light sparked in her eyes.
She couldn’t keep her toe-shackle locked around the fully grown size any longer.
Crack!
The foot slipped free. Her mouth, still nearly full of sausage, worked and chewed. Now and then her tongue flicked out to lick her lips.
“Hui-gyeong. Eat properly, please. What is that—so vulgar.”
Luckily Mom had only seen the sausage in her mouth; a scolding was all it earned. If she’d caught the long tongue, the entire dinner table would have been flipped on the spot.
“Oppa, give me more sausage.”
The way she said it was thick, deliberate, filthy. She could have grabbed one herself; asking me to hand it over meant she had something planned. I wordlessly set another frankfurter on her rice bowl. This time she ate it in ordinary little bites. At the same time she piled another mountain of bean sprouts onto my spoon.
“Eat a lot.”
“Y-yeah…”
No reason to refuse. I stuffed it in and chewed.
“Next time I’ll make it even better for you.”
I really had fallen hard for my little sister. Even the way she ate looked pretty. Afraid more mischief was coming—or that I’d just sit and stare forever—I kept scooping only the bean sprouts myself.
After dinner that Hui-gyeong girl and I took turns brushing our teeth. She went first; when I stepped into the room afterward she was already leaning against the wall, reading one of my romance books.
“If you think the other person is just fishing, it’s best to keep your distance. By showing you’re not an easy man you can deliver a fresh shock and draw their interest. Maintain that proper distance long enough and the interest will turn into obsession. Pfft!”
Of course the page she was on covered playing hard-to-get and fishing. She’d deliberately read it aloud, clear and slow, for my ears; then she couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing.
“Oppa, why the hell do you read this garbage?”
“If you don’t even know the theory you just get worked up alone and screw everything up.”
I sat beside her, slid my arm inside her clothes, and cupped her breast. Soft, warm flesh filled my palm perfectly. She turned her head as if by instinct; I covered her lips with mine. The real kiss could wait until things were riper.
A moment later she pulled away, still giggling.
“So if you know the theory you can act appropriately?”
“You could put it that way.”
“Then throwing a tantrum so I’d get your dick hard and let you feel me up—that was the appropriate move?”
“…How far back are we going?”
“Pretty recent, older brother?”
Damn it. Humiliating. Men are slaves to lust; that means they can only ever lose to women.
“It says if someone’s fishing, keep your distance—hahaha! Idiot? You put someone in the fishing pond because they have the looks for it. Keep your distance and all you do is set them free. If you’re going to show interest, show it from the start and ask them out first. All of this only works when you’ve got some face to work with.”
The ruthless critique tore straight through my chest. In the end it really was looks. Honestly I had zero confidence in my face. That was exactly why I worked so hard on my body.
“People should look at the heart.”
“If I were ugly, do you really think you would’ve come at me like this saying you like me?”
“…Even so, you’re naturally pretty, and you work hard at it so you get even prettier.”
One sincere compliment wrung out of my soul. No woman hates being called pretty. I said it casually, honestly, then dropped my head in embarrassment. Silence. Curious, I glanced sideways. That Hui-gyeong girl was bright red, completely at a loss. She pursed her lips, bit them hard, fought the smile that kept trying to break free, and finally muttered, voice stiff:
“Idiot. Don’t say things like that so casually.”
So she was weak to praise after all. I stayed gloomy anyway.
“Is the reason you won’t accept me that my face is trash?”
“What?”
She sighed like I was being absurd.
“Have you ever seen me care about looks?”
…I couldn’t claim she had. But why wouldn’t she deny the part about my face being trash?
“You still don’t get what your real problem is?”
“Still not really…”
“Ha. What kind of pure-virgin ass-virgin brat are you.”
I kept spoiling her and now there was no end to it. I was a complete beginner at romance; even an older brother was allowed to make mistakes and learn. Still, the nagging never stopped. Irritated, I blurted out something I never should have said.
“I’m not a pure-virgin ass-virgin.”
“What?”
“I’m a pure virgin. Not a pure-virgin ass-virgin.”
“…What?”
Same words, completely different weight. The first had been startled; the second was pure interrogation. Her face crumpled on the spot.
“Hey. Jo Gyeong-hun.”
“Why…”
Why did I already tense up every time a girl who wasn’t even my girlfriend used my full name?
“You’re not an ass-virgin?”
“No…”
“Why aren’t you an ass-virgin?”
“Uh…”
“Answer me. I’m asking.”
“That’s…”
“Oppa, are you fucking kidding me? You’re not answering?”
Crushed under that insane pressure, I confessed in a voice that barely left my throat.