Kim Min-ah's Hobby Life (1)
Up until morning, everything was the same as always. I'd head to Choi Min-seok's room early, swallow his semen, take a cold shower to clear my head, and then dive into studying.
It wasn't just that I concentrated well or enjoyed it—it was deeper than that. The moment I sat at my desk and focused, my sense of time vanished completely. Minor noises didn't register, and unless someone called my name or touched me nearby, my brain seemed wired solely for memorization.
Gurgle.
Only when that sound hit did I snap out of it. Glancing at the clock, it was already past 11 a.m. I'd skipped breakfast to keep my stomach empty for better focus, but now hunger struck at an awkward hour. Whatever—I'm unemployed anyway.
Shuffling to the kitchen, I boiled a pack of ramen and ate it. Instead of heading back to the office, I returned to my room and plopped into my chair.
"Hoo..."
Post-meal lethargy was the enemy of studying. So, a proper refresh—a little break—was in order. That was my excuse as I powered on my laptop, a new addition to my routine just a few days old.
I wasn't a gamer and didn't know much about games. I liked watching internet streams, but I'd sworn them off until I passed my exam. Instead, I naturally clicked into my bookmarked adult site.
My go-to searches were "huge cock" and "monster dick." Korean stuff felt too crude, Western porn too over-the-top, so Japan was my target. Their AVs even had codes organized by title, making them easy to find.
Lately, I'd been hooked on one where a woman appears in AV at her boyfriend's request, freaking out at first over the massive dick but gradually falling into depravity. Sure, Choi Min-seok's was even bigger, but among what I'd scoured, this was the best. And that acting—the woman hating it but slowly feeling it—somehow hooked me deep.
I hit play, skipped the dialogue, fast-forwarded to the good part, and slipped off my pants.
"It's just a short break..."
Studying needed motivation too, separate from focus. Muttering that flimsy excuse, I lost myself in the video.
[Haaang...! S-stop...! Wait a sec...!]
The actress's expression was a tangled mess. She looked like she hated it on the surface, but her pussy was sopping wet below, moans leaking nonstop despite her confusion.
[Hngh! Ah, aang...! This is, it's weird...!]
Each time the cock plunged deep into her guts, her face crumbled a little more, melting away. No matter how she twisted to escape, the male actor gripped her waist tight, force-feeding her pleasure no matter how she thrashed.
"Hngh...! Aang...! Haaang...!"
Squelch, squelch, squelch...!
A faint, even more realistic wet sound leaked from below, distinct from the earphones. Ever since crossing that line once, my habit of tormenting my pussy and clit together had intensified daily—to the point where I had to lay a towel under the chair or it'd be a mess.
[Haaang! Aang! Aaaaang! Stop, no...! Stop!!]
Finally pushed to the brink, the actress thrashed her head wildly, her near-scream moan heralding her climax. How good did it have to feel to writhe and twitch her whole body like that? Even if it was acting, it felt too real—and either way, I craved that pleasure at least once. My head filled with the thought.
[Haaaang! Aang! Aang! Haaang!]
Even after she came, the guy kept slamming his hips, roughly pounding her pussy. Pinned by her waist, she could only squirm helplessly as the thwack-thwack echoed, drowning in ecstasy.
The wilder her writhing got, the fiercer my fingers moved.
"Ahng...! Aang, aaang...! Haaang...!"
My clit, once just stroked and pressed, was now pinched, rubbed raw, tormented brutally enough to chafe the skin. Two fingers were now standard inside, pistoning so hard pussy juice splattered, scraping and kneading my walls.
"Haaak...!"
Shudder!
After ravaging my pussy like that, I curled my toes, stretched my legs straight, and came hard. Honey leaked in spasms from deep inside, dripping down my fingers to soak my wrist.
[Ah, aaa...! Haaaaang...!]
Even after I climaxed, the actress kept getting driven further, melting away.
"......"
Having cum once already, I stared blankly at the screen, eyes glazed like I'd fall in. My hands wanted to keep going, but my hypersensitive pussy wouldn't take it. It wasn't willpower—the pleasure was too sharp; even trying, I'd yank away fast.
In the end, all I could do was imagine the bliss the actress felt.
"...Thirty minutes already."
What the hell was I doing? My soaked palm—like I'd spilled water—and the drenched towel told a pitiful story.
"Even with my hand it's this much..."
What would the real thing feel like? Still riding the afterglow, my mind drifted to Choi Min-seok's cock, the one I saw every day. That intimidating size and hardness just from looking, the scorching heat like molten iron... I'd never tried it, but it had to eclipse even what the actress was feeling.
"...Back to studying."
What good did fantasizing do? I shuffled to the shower in just my pants off, washing my hands and drenched crotch, tossing the sopping towel into the laundry.
It had started as a shower break but turned more intense. These "refresh" masturbation sessions happened daily now.
The trigger? Late-night fantasies and curiosities about his cock led me to boot up the computer. Searching stuff heated me up, so I calmed down with a wank—and it became habit. The sage time after cooling off was familiar now.
I shut off the still-playing laptop and returned to the office, sinking back into focus.
*
I snapped out of it again to hunger—it was past 6 p.m. already. The interruption itself proved severe fasting, so I stood without hesitation.
"...Craving booze."
Some days just hit like that. Ramen fatigue was long past; meals were just fuel now. Funny, nitpicking nutrition on a ramen diet.
Anyway, out of nowhere, non-ramen cravings struck—no warning. Usually chicken, but donkatsu, curry, gukbap... anything popped into my head. Today, it was booze.
Specifically, spicy stew with soju. Choi Min-seok would've teased me for sounding like an old man.
Eating out was fine. I splurged on these days anyway, and the service money from him was mostly saved, leaving plenty of slack.
"Fuck... eating alone sucks."
The issue? No one to join. Solo meals were routine, but solo drinking? Different. Rare guys might hassle me, and stares felt annoying.
"Why today of all days..."
If Choi Min-seok were here, I'd drag him out for drinks. But no such luck today. That hesitation killed the solo plan.
I could order delivery and drink in my room, but still—eating alone felt lacking.
"...Later it is."
Two's better than one. I could wait a day. Tomorrow night when he got back, I'd invite him.
Decision made, I boiled ramen.
And the next day.
Waking early, I instinctively rose from bed but paused, slumping back down.
"He's not here today..."
I hadn't realized I was aware, but my mumble dripped disappointment. My mind filled with the thick semen taste from every morning. Gooey, bitter, head-spinningly musky—swallowing brought inexplicable satisfaction.
Gulp.
The clear swallow echoed in the quiet room; I flinched, body jerking.
"Ha..."
Sighing at the creeping frustration. And it was just starting. Cold shower shook off distractions, but the funk lingered. Not critical yet, but it'd worsen.
"...Time to study."
"Let's just study"—most said phrase in exam prep life. No sudden motivation, but repeating it calmed me, easing me to the desk. Focusing once there? Another story.
"Ah, fuck..."
Laughably scattered. Like I'd forgotten what focus meant—nothing stuck. Decent time passed? Barely 20 minutes.
"Skip today...?"
Old me? Never. But circumstances changed. Beyond crumbling will and zero focus, recent confidence played in. Last month's insane efficiency—stuff etched perfectly on input.
I grinded anyway for backups, no regrets. Yeah—one day off was fine. Two months to exam; full throttle then guaranteed pass.
"No point sitting here; nothing's sinking in."
Rest decided. Full day off.
But...
"What to do?"
Nearly two years without real breaks—nothing came to mind.