The Condition for the Window
My son's junior is going down on me.
The hands pulling down my pants don't stop.
They are a woman's hands.
Not mine.
She looks up at me while kneeling.
Her pupils have darkened.
The playfulness that lingered at the corners of her mouth is gone.
Her shoulders have dropped.
Her breathing has slowed.
She is a different person.
"Master."
Her voice is low.
Neither a full voice nor a whisper, but a halfway volume.
Just the right volume for the silence of the lecture room.
My hands stop.
I don't know where to put them.
The status window doesn't appear.
I don't even know this woman's name.
The lecture room is empty.
The door isn't locked.
That fact keeps weighing on me from behind my back.
"Master."
She calls again.
This time, there's a slight note of urgency.
My body reacts first.
The woman lowers her head.
Hot. Wet. The sensation is vivid.
Slurp—
A sound comes from her mouth.
I look down.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"—But if the professor says that there,"
Serin's voice grows clearer.
Five meters. Three meters.
"Right, I thought it was weird too—"
The footsteps slow down. They stop.
Serin has stopped right in front of the lecture room door.
The woman continues. She doesn't change her pace.
If anything, she takes me even deeper.
"Oh, wait, let me send this first."
Serin is standing there, tapping on her phone. Right in front of the door.
Three seconds. Five seconds. Seven seconds.
The woman's eyes look up. Tears begin to well.
"Sent. Let's go."
Another voice replies. Footsteps move.
"Exactly. You can't just do that there."
Serin's voice fades. It grows more distant. It disappears.
Only then do I realize I've been holding my breath.
My back is drenched in sweat.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Irritation flares.
I grab the woman's hair.
"Ugh—"
I push down, applying force.
Slurp. Gulp.
A sound comes from deep within her throat.
She swallows a cough. Her shoulders heave.
I grip her hair even tighter.
Tears spill from her eyes.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
She is in pain. Yet she doesn't try to stop.
It hurts. But she wants more.
I thrust all the way to the back of her throat.
I'm doing this with a woman whose name I don't even know.
What kind of bastard was my son, anyway?
Slurrrp—
Her back arches like a bow.
Reflexively, her hands come up to grab my thighs.
Her fingernails dig in. It hurts.
The inside of my thighs feels hot.
"Khh—mgh—"
It's a sound rising from deep within her throat. It leaks out despite her attempts to suppress it.
Tears stream down both her cheeks.
The sensation builds. Hot, tight, squeezing pressure.
My hips thrust forward on their own.
Still gripping her hair, I push her head down even deeper.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The afternoon light filters diagonally through the lecture room window.
Casting several stripes of light through the blinds.
The woman's coughing doesn't stop. It bursts out in rapid succession.
Cough, cough.
Her face is flushed bright red.
Tears have dripped all the way down to her chin.
I let go.
She lifts her head.
She gasps for air. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Our eyes meet.
There is pain. It's unmistakable.
Her cheeks are wet, her eyes are bloodshot, and her throat is hoarse.
Yet, the corners of her mouth are turned up.
"Please... do it more."
Her voice is cracked, but her words are clear.
Pain and ecstasy coexist on the same face.
She is smiling through her tears.
No, it is neither crying nor laughing. It is an expression unique to this woman.
I reach for her again.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Sounds echo from the hallway again.
Multiple people. It's the time when classes end.
Footsteps overlap. Laughter mingles.
I hear the sound of people leaning against the hallway wall right next to the lecture room door, chatting.
Just a single door away.
She hears it. I hear it too.
Her rhythm quickens.
Slurp, slurp, slurp—
The sensation builds, rising from below.
My lower back tightens.
My thighs are burning.
Her hair sways between my fingers.
"Mgh—khh—haah—"
Sounds leak out despite her attempts to suppress them. From her throat, from between her lips, from her nose.
The conversation in the hallway is crystal clear. Two women are talking about their class schedules.
Right in front of the lecture room.
Her hands grip my thighs even harder.
It hurts. It hurts, but the sensations are so tangled that I can't tell them apart.
My breathing grows ragged too.
"Haa—"
A short gasp escapes my mouth.
I tried to hold it in, but I can't.
The footsteps in the hallway fade. The voices disappear.
The sensation reaches its limit.
Slurrrp— slurp— gulp—
My grip on her head tightens.
My hips thrust forward. I can't stop.
"Khh—nn—"
Her shoulders tremble. Coughs and groans overlap.
Tears drip from her chin.
Her fingernails dig into my thighs with maximum force.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The climax.
The sensation erupts from my lower back.
Short and deep. Once. Twice. Thrice.
The sound from her throat cuts off.
She swallowed. All of it.
Her shoulders rise and fall.
She closes her lips, then opens them again.
She takes a breath.
I let go.
She lifts her head.
Her face is covered in tears. Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes are bloodshot.
Yet, those eyes are smiling.
It is the expression of someone who has been liberated.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Just then, my temples throb.
Something flickers in the corner of my vision.
I don't know if it was there all along or if it just appeared.
Bzzzt—
Static crackles.
Text tries to load, then shuts off. It flickers. It turns back on.
[ ─── BZZZT... STATIC... ─── ]
[ Park Hayoung ]
[ Relationship: ??? ]
[ Recent Psychology: Unidentified ]
My heart pounds. For a different reason.
The text shakes. It's unstable.
The relationship field is filled with question marks. It cuts off there.
Park Hayoung.
It's a name.
This woman's name is Park Hayoung.
I look at her.
She is wiping away her tear tracks. With her sleeve. Quietly.
I finally know her name.
Does it unlock when the contact deepens?
Serin's appeared from the very beginning.
This woman's just appeared now.
There is a condition.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Cooldown.
She slowly lifts her head.
Tears have soaked her entire face.
Her cheeks are glistening.
She coughs a few times. This time, she doesn't hold it back.
Her hands fall away from my thighs. Her fingers are trembling.
I step back.
She places her hands on her knees.
She catches her breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Rapid at first, then gradually slowing down.
I pull up my pants.
The smell of disinfectant wafts through the lecture room.
"Are you okay?"
She looks up. Her eyes are red, her cheeks are flushed, but her gaze is clear.
"Yes, Master."
Her reply is prompt. I listen to her answer.
She rises from her knees.
She adjusts her skirt. Her hands are still trembling slightly.
She sweeps her hair back with one hand.
She wipes away the tear tracks with the edge of her sleeve.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
My phone vibrates. I pull it out.
It's a message from Serin.
I look at the screen.
Hayoung glances at the screen. She must have seen Serin's name.
"You should go, Master."
I lock the screen and slip it into my pocket.
"Yeah."
Hayoung looks up. Her expression changes. Just for a split second.
Her eyes darken slightly before returning to normal.
Hayoung speaks.
"Be good to Serin, Master."
Her voice is devoid of emotion. No, it's not that there is none. She purposefully kept it out.
This body is Serin's boyfriend. And with this body, I was just doing this with Hayoung.
"I'll handle it."
Hayoung chuckles softly.
"Good luck, Master."
It's brief. That's as far as it goes.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Hayoung picks up her bag.
She walks toward the lecture room door.
It's as if a switch has been flipped; she is a completely different person.
The woman who was just kneeling on the floor, covered in tears, begging me to "do it more."
There is a spring in her step. Her shoulders are squared. Her arms swing naturally.
She places her hand on the door. Without looking back, she pulls it open slightly.
A narrow sliver of hallway light spills in, then shrinks back. The door closes.
I watch her retreating back.
Is she really the same person?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The lecture room is empty. I am alone.
The afternoon light filters diagonally through the window blinds, casting long stripes across the floor.
The status window is still flickering.
[ Park Hayoung ]
[ Relationship: ??? ]
[ Recent Psychology: Unidentified ]
Only her name has unlocked. The relationship is still a question mark.
Serin's status window was visible from the very beginning. Park Hayoung's just appeared now. Ji-won's still hasn't shown up.
If physical contact is the condition.
If it only unlocks once the depth of contact surpasses a certain threshold.
Then it makes sense why Serin's was visible from the start. They were dating.
Park Hayoung's unlocked just now. What just happened must have satisfied the condition.
Ji-won's doesn't show. For now, it's just a theory.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Another message arrives.
I grab my bag, leave the lecture room, and close the door.
The hallway is quiet. Afternoon light streams through the hallway windows.
I check the message.
I walk down the hallway.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Serin is leaning against a pillar.
She is wearing a cropped knit sweater, a miniskirt, and white sneakers.
She stands with her arms crossed, looking at her phone, before raising her head.
"What took you so long?"
She narrows her eyes. She's annoyed.
"I was talking to a professor."
"Which professor?"
"A Business Administration professor."
"About what?"
"An assignment."
Serin looks at me. Just for a moment.
Her eyes sweep down, then up, scanning my face.
I don't let my expression falter. I don't look away.
"You smell," Serin says.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Something weird."
"The lecture room is in an old building. It's probably the smell of disinfectant."
Serin sniffs the air once more.
I wait.
Serin uncrosses her arms and shifts her bag onto her shoulder.
"I guess so."
"Let's eat. I'm hungry."
I walk beside her. Serin walks slightly ahead.
Her hair drapes over her back.
Her pace is brisk.
I watch her from behind.
A seed of suspicion has been planted.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
It's evening.
I get off the bus and walk down the alleyway.
The evening air is cold.
I open the front door. The house is quiet.
A single light is on in the living room. I arrange my shoes.
As I step into the hallway, Ji-won's room door opens.
An oversized T-shirt. Shorts that reach mid-thigh.
Her hair is loosely tied up.
Her eyes are slightly puffy. I can't tell if she just woke up from a nap or if she always looks like this.
She stops when she sees me.
"Did you eat?"
Her voice is low and casual. It's hard to tell if she's actually asking or just greeting me.
"Yes."
Ji-won nods. That's all.
She walks toward the kitchen, opens the refrigerator, pulls out a water bottle, and twists the cap.
I watch her back.
It feels like the smell of the lecture room still lingers on my hands.
I'm reminded of Hayoung kneeling in the lecture room.
Her voice, covered in tears, begging me to "do it more."
The sensation of her hands gripping my thighs.
Ji-won drinks the water, her back turned to me.
Two completely different scenes overlap in the same moment.
This isn't right.
Ji-won caps the water bottle and puts it back in the fridge.
"Good night."
She speaks without looking back, walks toward her room, steps inside, and closes the door.
I stand alone in the hallway.
It feels like the smell of the lecture room still lingers on my hands.