To Claim the Daughter, Take Down Mom First 1
The two stepped out of the upscale restaurant. Lee Seo-yoon was so plastered her legs kept tangling, unable to stand on her own, forcing her to lean heavily on Kim Il-woo for support.
“Huuu...”
Every time Lee Seo-yoon exhaled, a thick wave of booze stench blasted out. Her eyes still bore the tear-streaked remnants of her breakdown—tormented as a mother by the horrific ordeal her daughter had endured.
“Mom, if you go home like this, totally wasted, Ara's just gonna worry even more...”
He knew Choi Ara wasn't in her right mind. In her current state, unable to even care for herself, seeing her only precious family stumble home sloshed would only escalate things into a bigger mess. Even if Lee Seo-yoon forgot everything later, setting things up like this would naturally lead them straight into a motel room for some “rest.”
“Ara... worry...? Oh, no. Yeah... no...”
Even in her drunken stupor, a mother's instincts kicked in—she couldn't bear to burden her daughter and refused to go home.
Kim Il-woo's lips twisted into a sinister smirk, a faint smile curling up.
“Then how about we duck into somewhere to sober you up just for a bit?”
“Yeah...? Uh, yeah... yeah... okay.”
Blissfully unaware of his dark intentions, Lee Seo-yoon slurred her agreement.
No matter how much stress she'd been under, she'd never gotten this blackout drunk before. Kim Il-woo knew it stemmed from the trust built over years—he'd been around since he was a kid, practically raised like her own. The idea that her daughter's childhood friend would ever lay a hand on her? Unthinkable.
The pair soon found a dingy motel nearby and checked in. He could've easily afforded a decent hotel without touching her wallet, but he'd chosen this sleazy dump for a reason.
“Day room, please.”
The flabby middle-aged guy at the counter leered openly at the blackout-drunk Lee Seo-yoon. He took Kim Il-woo's card for payment, but his sticky gaze never left the ripe married woman's body, devouring every curve.
This is the thrill of it.
Unlike hotels with their professional staff, the workers at these cheap motels eyed guests with raw, predatory lust. That slimy, all-over scrutiny—like licking her from afar—stoked his desires perfectly.
“Mom, you're just staying here till the booze wears off, got it?”
“Yeah... yeah... got it...”
Kim Il-woo made a point of confirming the purpose right there at the counter and getting her consent on record. These dives had CCTV everywhere in the halls—if push came to shove, he'd have proof she'd agreed.
Calling her 'Mom' worked wonders.
As the middle-aged clerk handed back the card, surprise flickered in his eyes amid the lechery. He'd seen every kind of couple, but ones using “mom” as a pet name? Rare as hell.
Feeling the man's gaze trail them, zeroing in on their unnatural dynamic, they boarded the elevator. Naturally, CCTV there too.
Should I give the counter creep a little show?
If Lee Seo-yoon flipped out later about sleeping together, he could demand the hallway CCTV footage from right there. So he decided to treat the middle-aged clerk to a bonus.
“Hold on, Mom—lemme fix your posture.”
Pretending to adjust her for easier support, Kim Il-woo tilted her upper body forward, arching her ass back. At the same time, the hand around her waist shot down quick, yanking up the long denim skirt that reached her ankles.
Bold as hell, but the utterly wasted Lee Seo-yoon didn't notice her skirt bunching up over her hips, just kept leaning into him.
Whoosh.
With the denim hiked fully over her ass, the married woman's ripe lower half was laid bare before the CCTV. Her luscious cheeks, prim and proper like her demeanor, were wrapped in pristine white panties. The smooth, seductive line from thick thighs—perfect for gripping during a pounding—down to her calves was pure temptation.
Bet he's peeking right now.
Kim Il-woo glanced back over his shoulder at the exposed flesh he'd fantasized about since childhood. Thrilled at sharing his friend's mom's secrets with a fellow pervert, he stepped off the elevator and into the day room.
“Just as shitty as I pictured.”
Outdated furniture and bed. They'd tried for clean, but it screamed cheapskate vibes—no extra cash invested.
Kim Il-woo dumped the barely conscious Lee Seo-yoon onto the bed like a ragdoll.
Thud.
“Huuuum...”
The ancient mattress creaked from the impact alone. A poised noblewoman, dead drunk and defenseless on a sleazy motel bed—it stirred a delicious sense of taboo violation.
Pound her now? Or drag out the act...?
He regretted the lack of fixed cameras. Phone would do, but not the multi-angle glory like when he'd raped Choi Ara. A pity he couldn't perfectly capture finally fucking his longtime crush—his friend's hot mom.
Any hidden cams in here?
Rumors swirled about secret cameras in motel rooms. If this one had 'em, he'd beg for the footage later—but risking that bridge was too dicey.
Play the good daughter's friend a bit longer?
Unlike raping Choi Ara, he needed an ongoing thing with her, so gentler seduction it was.
“Mom, you look beat. Want a massage?”
“...Uh, wha? Il-woo, what'd you say?”
Still slurring, tongue-tied, her responses were more reflex than conversation.
“With Ara's mess and all the recent stress, figured I'd help kill time and loosen you up.”
Ignoring consent, he announced it, propped his phone camera in plain view, hit record, and returned to the bed.
Kim Il-woo extended his dark hands toward the defenseless married woman sprawled there.
“Gonna take off this pesky shawl first.”
Truth was, beyond the shawl, there wasn't much else to strip without hitting underwear. Sweater and denim skirt off meant bra and panties—normal massage stayed clothed.
Take it slow, gauge her.
He flipped the blackout drunk onto her stomach, straddled her plump ass, and started kneading her shoulders like a legit masseuse.
“Mmm... hng...”
He'd studied massage dreaming of groping women freely. To melt lowbrow lust, you had to dissolve the female form butter-soft—and it paid off; comfort seeped into her murmurs.
“Shoulders are knotted bad. Sweater's too thick—gonna hike it up a bit.”
From shoulders, he expanded to her full upper body, naturally bunching the sweater up to her shoulders. Under the dim motel light, her flawless married skin gleamed again. Smooth backline, meticulously maintained, and that single mole on her side—stealing his gaze.
“Office work knots the scapula like this.”
Nonstop “massage” let his lewd fingers roam her silky back entirely.
“Hng, mmm... ngh...?”
From legit rubs to tools of his lust. Tickling her smooth back, stroking her wide hips and pubic mound like teasing an itch—her body twitched in response.
“Now the lower half.”
Slowly hiking the ankle-length denim skirt. Heart racing like unwrapping a gift, he bunched it over her ass again.
Her ripe married scent exploded free. While her daughter smelled of sweet peach, this overripe woman carried a crisp lavender freshness.
High-end body wash?
Her skin glowed flawlessly tended, pricey care evident, her dizzying natural musk tickling his nose and numbing his reason.
A married woman half-naked, face-down on cheap sheets under her daughter's friend's hands—delectable. His cock throbbed painfully against his pants, begging release, but he craved more indulgence in this ripe body.
Wasted years craving this—can't just slam in yet.
Unlike raping childhood friend Choi Ara, he had time here. Savor it, melt her down slow.
Starting at her slender ankles, he savored her lower body's texture stroke by stroke. Past bouncy calves to soft thighs that yielded like dough under his grip—urging him to knead forever.
Kim Il-woo slipped a hand between her thighs, brushing her most intimate core.