6.9
6.9. 6.9. 6.9. Is this some movie rating or a soccer player's score? If it were, it'd at least be a decent B-movie time-killer or an average pro athlete. But unfortunately, those numbers represent the size of my dick. Fully erect at 6.9cm—the exact number those thundering assholes scream about, not off by even 1mm.
Me, with no flaws in looks or smarts, and my one glaring defect is a fully erect 6.9cm cock... The incident that exposed my complex and hit me like a truck happened two years ago, back when I was a college freshman.
Summer break had just ended, and I gave in to my buddies' begging—they were desperate to score using my looks—so I joined a 3-on-3 blind date. Among the three girls we met, the cutest one took a liking to me. After the date, we started meeting up privately, and things naturally progressed to dating.
Yujeong and I acted like any normal couple: dates, whispering sweet nothings, making out. Then, on the last Friday of November, right before finals, shit hit the fan. We were on a date as usual, things heated up, and we ended up at a motel. Just like in porn, we stripped each other, groped around, and I finally shoved my raging-hard cock into her pussy.
Joy surged through me—finally losing my virginity!—but while I was thrilled, Yujeong's reaction was nothing like the porn stars'. "Eh?" A short, hollow gasp loaded with disappointment and confusion, like What the hell is this?
She bolted upright, checked out my dick's size, then suddenly claimed something came up. She threw on her clothes in a hurry and bolted from the motel room, leaving me on the bed with my pathetic little thing standing there—barely even recognizable as erect.
The next day, rumors exploded among my classmates and department: my dick was tiny. As soon as finals ended, I enlisted in the army like a coward, fleeing.
Getting mocked by peers and girls, mentally crumbling—that sounded worse than the military. At least there, no one gave a shit about my dick size. I got through without incident and discharged safely, but one thing loomed over me: returning to school.
Half a year left, and two years total? Plenty of time for everyone to forget. But the fear of going back to the same hell gnawed at me. That's why I turned down a few classmates who heard about my discharge and wanted to grab drinks.
Me, once the social butterfly, the ultimate insider... now like this. With that anxiety weighing like a rock in my chest, I headed to the address Mom sent.
My parents, abroad for business since I started college, had rented a place near campus timed for my discharge.
[Creak]
I opened the green-painted iron gate of the house matching the phone address, and a balding, chubby middle-aged guy greeted me.
"You Kim Hyungsik, right?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"Come on in. The movers just dropped your stuff at the rooftop room—perfect timing. Head up and check it out. Oh, and I'm the landlord here."
"Ah... okay."
Following the chatty landlord up the stairs, I spotted neatly stacked boxes in one corner of the rooftop. My stuff from the old place before enlisting.
Nothing valuable—just clothes and odds and ends—so no big deal. Half-ignoring the landlord's sales pitch about the house, I looked around.
A story taller than the neighbors, the view was killer. Like those romantic rooftop rooms from dramas.
Strolling the rooftop, I noticed a woman hanging laundry on the rooftop across the street. She wore a skin-tight dress—the classic "new town milf" look—and every time she shook out clothes, her massive tits jiggled hypnotically.
Pale melons hanging heavy... After a year and a half without a real woman, it was pure torture. Blood rushed south, hardening my dick in seconds.
But even fully erect, at 6.9cm, it barely showed through my pants.
"...So rent's due on the 10th—bank transfer or cash. Got it, Hyungsik?"
"Ah... yeah. What about the first month?"
"Your parents already paid that. Start next month."
"Got it."
"Alright, I'll head down. Call if you need anything."
By the time we chatted rent, the woman had vanished. I irritably rubbed my still-hard cock through my pants, then unpacked the boxes.
The landlord had repainted, relaid the flooring, and cleaned spotless, so I unpacked right away. I'd ditched outdated clothes before enlisting, so I stashed the few outfits in the closet and headed to the nearby convenience store for toiletries and dinner.
This was the store where I'd worked part-time as a freshman—I was tight with the owner back then.
[Ding-dong]
The familiar bell rang as I entered. The owner stood at the counter, unchanged from two years ago.
I grabbed essentials and dinner, headed to checkout. He spotted me and lit up.
"Whoa?! Hyungsik? Discharged?"
"Yeah, long time no see. Today."
Light chit-chat and checkout later, he made an offer.
"Hey, wanna do night shifts here? Can't find help—I'm dying covering nights. I'll pay double minimum wage."
Double pay? I needed a job anyway, so I jumped on it.
"Sure. But can I start next week on weekdays?"
"Perfect! Weekend for contract, Monday nights to start. You know the ropes already."
"Yup, still remember."
"Cool, I'll call. Come by weekend."
"Sounds good."
"Take care, Hyungsik."
Grinning ear-to-ear, the owner waved me off. Night job secured—I headed back to my new rooftop home.
Stashed food in the fridge, sorted toiletries, then checked the desk in the corner.
[Slide, thud!]
First two drawers empty. But the third held a pair of metal-framed glasses, pristine like new.
Picking them up, I spotted thin initials on one temple: Yas.
Yas? Brand name? Foreigner's? The naughty vibe piqued my interest.
Wiped them with a tissue—who knows what was on them—then tried them on, checking the wall mirror.
My face was solid anyway; glasses looked good. Then, overlays appeared on the lenses: images, text.
Welcome, customer who has found the Yas System.
Since this is your first time accessing the system, your information is not registered, so you cannot fully use the Yas System's functions.
Would you like to register your information and use the full service?
[yes / no]
Felt like a scam, but this cutting-edge AR tech not on the market yet? Curiosity spiked.
Tranced out, I muttered yes.
We will now begin the process of registering and linking your biometric information.
There may be slight pain during registration, and if the connection with the device is severed midway, it may cause significant damage to your nervous system. Please be careful.
"Wh-what? Gah!!"
Before finishing the message, searing pain shot from where the temple touched my ear. I screamed, body toppling backward as consciousness faded.