My Wife Began to Feel Like a Stranger
My wife was beginning to feel like a stranger… I stared blankly at Sujung. The fact that this demure woman—who had only ever known me—had twisted and writhed in orgasm at the mere mention of a name last night. Yet my mind kept circling back to that chilling conversation from the night before.
“Seunghun… I’m going to the bathroom for a bit…” “Me too… let’s go!!” The vacant stretch of time when the two of them had vanished together into the silence outside the tent. And when she returned and lay down beside me, her lower body was already soaked to an unnatural degree—wet before my fingers had even brushed against her. What could possibly have happened in that short span of time, behind that dark makeshift toilet, to make a woman said to suffer from frigidity react like that?
The moment my thoughts reached that point, my heart began to hammer wildly. The fact that neither Seunghun nor Sujung had uttered a single word about leaving the tent together last night only stimulated my imagination in the most perverse way. An uninhabited dawn, two drunk adults stumbling into a cramped, lightless space and committing animalistic acts. Sujung’s prim propriety collapsing under Seunghun’s rough hands… That sinister vision carried with it a strange, intoxicating thrill alongside the jealousy.
And that thrill soon linked itself to the scorching, sticky sensation of Sujung’s fluids that had coated my fingertips the night before. Was all of that… not sweat, but actual pussy juice…? The violent, copious response I had never once drawn from her in our own bed. What if the cause of that reaction hadn’t been me at all, but Seunghun—the man who had disappeared into the woods with my wife last night?
In that instant, my jealousy transmuted into a grotesque form of sexual excitement. The fantasy that my wife might have been violated by another man, and the fact that I had personally confirmed the hot evidence of that violation, pressed down heavily on my groin. As I watched Sujung sitting there in her usual mask of modesty, imagining the depraved heat that had flooded deep inside her body last night, I felt my cock stiffening into steel.
With a trembling hand I gripped the water cup and stared at the flushed nape of her neck. Jealousy, conquest, and a yearning for corruption swirled together in a vicious vortex, and I was willingly sinking deeper into it. I was no longer the gentle husband Junseok. I had begun to watch my own wife through the eyes of a secret observer who savored her fall from grace.
The highway stretched wide and open, the car interior cool from the air conditioning, yet my palms were so damp they kept slipping on the steering wheel. I glanced in the rearview mirror at Seunghun’s car growing smaller in the distance, then stole a look at Sujung in the passenger seat. She was humming softly while gazing out the window. The memory of that disgustingly slick texture against my fingertips last night kept tickling my skin.
“Sujung… when exactly did I fall asleep last night? I seriously don’t remember a thing.”
I spoke casually, pretending to be a hungover husband suffering from memory loss. Sujung let out a small “Pfft” of laughter and turned toward me. Her smile was as clear and innocent as always.
“Don’t even talk about it. You passed out completely, honey. You were snoring so loudly you didn’t even notice when Seunghun and my sister were clearing the drinks. I couldn’t wake you up no matter what I tried.”
“Ah… really? That’s embarrassing. I feel bad for Seunghun…”
“You should feel bad! But honey… why did you suddenly start talking about our sex life last night? I was so mortified I wanted to die.”
Sujung fiddled with her seatbelt, her face turning a subtle shade of red as she added the comment. I genuinely couldn’t remember, so I asked again.
“Huh? Me? What kind of sex talk did I do?”
“You know… about our bedroom stuff. You got drunk and started complaining that we’ve been doing it too infrequently lately, that I might have frigidity, and you blurted it all out right in front of Seunghun and my sister. Don’t you remember? I thought my face was going to burn off.”
“Ah… I said that?”
A fragmented memory flickered past—just before I blacked out, my usual frustrations and desires had spilled out as drunken nonsense. Sujung puffed her cheeks slightly and gave me a sidelong glance before continuing.
“So of course Seunghun and my sister started chiming in because they were drunk too. Talking about how that kind of thing is trendy these days, how you need stimulation or it won’t work… I was the only one left out and it was so awkward. Seunghun kept laughing and saying his sister-in-law is too proper for her own good, that sometimes you need to feel eyes on you other than your husband’s… I’d never heard anything like that before…”
At Sujung’s words, my brain simply stopped working. The passive, modest wife whose only sexual experience had been with me had somehow become the center of such explicit conversation, trading banter with Seunghun.
Wait… could that be why my wife was so wet last night…? Because of that conversation?
The moment the thought struck me, a heavy weight settled in my lower belly. The relief that there might have been no physical contact between Sujung and Seunghun was paradoxically replaced by excitement at the idea that mere words had been enough to soak her so thoroughly. The wife whose ironclad frigidity I had never once managed to melt was getting her deepest places drenched by nothing more than those depraved jokes. It was driving me insane.
So… that thick, viscous trace was created solely by those obscene words, without anyone’s touch?
Jealousy had now become a bizarre sexual high that flowed through my veins. The realization that the woman sitting beside me in her mask of propriety was actually hiding such lewd instincts—enough to drench herself from nothing but someone else’s explicit sexual descriptions—pressed down on my groin like a lead weight. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and asked, pretending to be indifferent.
“Ah… so what exactly did you talk about? What did Seunghun and your sister say that got you so worked up?”
I pressed her persistently, determined not to miss even the slightest change in her expression. I wanted to hear every filthy fragment of that “impure conversation” directly from her lips. But the moment the question left my mouth, Sujung’s face darkened instantly.
“Ugh, I don’t know. You know I hate that kind of talk, so why do you keep asking? It’s annoying.”
She whipped her head toward the window. It was the same firm refusal as always, yet her slightly trembling voice contained something beyond simple displeasure. The more she resisted, the thirstier I became.
“No, I’m asking because I really don’t remember. If I made a mistake, I should at least apologize. Tell me, please?”
After my relentless questioning, Sujung finally sighed in defeat and opened her mouth. Her gaze remained fixed outside the window, but her voice had already grown damp and heavy.
“You… you were the biggest problem. Seunghun and my sister started describing in detail how they play with each other—how he caresses her, what positions they like during sex—and you were just sitting there gasping in admiration and agreeing with everything.”
“I… did that?”
“Yes. You kept saying things like ‘Wow, Seunghun, you’re incredible,’ and ‘Sujung, we should learn from them’… Seunghun got excited and became even more explicit. My sister pretended to be embarrassed but still told him exactly how and where he touches her body… I really wanted to cover my ears.”
The more Sujung confessed, the more vividly the grotesque scene played out in my head. While I was blacked out and giggling in agreement, Seunghun and his wife’s dirty talk must have pierced Sujung’s eardrums like arrows.
“Sujung… I really committed a mortal sin. I’m sorry. I’ll be careful from now on.”
I spoke softly as if offering comfort, but my eyes obsessively traced the tightly pressed space between her thighs through the rearview mirror. Instead of answering my apology, Sujung let out a short sigh and curled into herself even more.
The deeper her shame, the harder the thing inside my pants grew. The very fact that my wife had been wounded and broken by words poured on her like violation had become the most powerful aphrodisiac imaginable, swallowing me whole.
— The bedroom in our apartment back home was incomparably comfortable and cozy compared to the inside of a tent. Yet even as I stared at the familiar pattern on the ceiling, I kept remembering the flickering shadows cast on the thin tent fabric.
From beside me came the steady sound of Sujung’s breathing as she slept. Exhausted, she had fallen into a deep, motionless slumber, but my mind was using the confessions she had made in the car earlier as material to stage a grotesque play.
Seunghun was saying those things right next to me, and I was agreeing with him.
When I closed my eyes in the darkness, the fragments of last night that I had missed reassembled themselves with painful clarity. Right beside me, head lolling from drink, Seunghun’s heavy, moist voice must have licked at Sujung’s ear.
“Sujung, Junseok is truly blessed. How can any man sleep with such a beautiful wife beside him? If she were mine, I wouldn’t leave her alone for a single second.”
The scene of that crude, damp voice scraping against the inside of my wife’s modest heart. Normally she would have left in disgust, but if her own husband had been sitting right there giggling and saying “Seunghun is right” while enabling her humiliation?
The dizzying sense of isolation she must have felt in that moment. When the only protective shield she had—me—had instead stripped her bare and thrown her before the gaze of a wolfish stranger, her body would have been seized by both terror and a depraved stimulation she had never experienced before.
So… that’s why she was that wet.