Taming the Frigid Pussy (2)
Ye-jin's pussy—calling it "purified" now—was excellent. It clung to my cock like a suction cup, sucking it in with a unique stimulation whether I thrust deep inside or pulled back out.
Squelch... squelch... squelch...
"Hng... uh... haa..."
But despite the state of her pussy, her reactions weren't great. We were still in the taming phase, so I was moving gently, but her expression remained utterly indifferent. Her slightly quickened breathing wasn't from pleasure—it was just because she was out of breath.
'What about her womb?'
Squelch...!
"Eek...!"
I lightly prodded her cervix to test, and her hips twitched in surprise, but it was far from any real sensation. No choice but to keep going, so I continued thrusting while carefully peeling back the hood of her clitoris with my thumb and gently rolling it.
"Hng... haa... haa..."
No reaction here either. Her clit was just responding to the touch, nothing more—no real pleasure being transmitted.
'Frigidity... is that what it is?'
I was stirring up every nook and cranny inside her with my cock right now, but Ye-jin truly seemed to feel not even a shred of pleasure. Of course, I had no intention of giving up. This wasn't even a real contest from the start, but backing off now would feel like defeat. If brute force wouldn't work, I'd win with stamina. I braced my hips, steeling myself for a prolonged battle.
As Min-seok had suspected, Ye-jin—no, Im Ye-jin—suffered from frigidity. All her other senses were perfectly normal. But for some reason, she'd never once experienced sexual desire or pleasure.
It hadn't been an issue in her childhood. She'd never even felt lust. For a student in Korea, lacking that one urge was a huge advantage for studying. Lust is like that, isn't it? Once you're aware of it, it floods your mind endlessly, but ignore it, and you don't even know it exists.
So Ye-jin had never once thought there was anything wrong with her. She first sensed something odd after entering college. Her natural beauty and figure, which hadn't drawn much attention in her all-girls middle and high schools, now attracted hordes of men. At girls-only gatherings or drinking parties, crude sex talk flowed freely—stuff that never came up back in school.
They casually chatted about their boyfriends or one-night stands: what felt good, what didn't. Ye-jin, with no such stories to share, just listened silently until one question naturally arose.
'Is it really that good?'
The conversations were mostly complaints about the guys, but even as they trashed them, her friends looked thrilled and excited sharing the dirty details.
"Is it really that great?"
Her curiosity spilled out as a question. Everyone was already talking about it, so there was no embarrassment.
"Honestly, masturbation feels better."
"But when it's good, it's definitely good—different from solo play."
"If you get into the mood, it's insanely arousing. You just lose it."
"Totally."
They dove back into their private lingo, giggling hysterically. How could she not get curious? She decided to start with masturbation, downloading porn at home and giving it a try right away.
[Haang...! Ang...! Ang...! Aaaang...!!]
The actress in the video let out such lewd moans—hard to believe she was human—as she climaxed on the cock. But Ye-jin's own body remained completely calm.
"Is this... not it?"
She awkwardly rubbed her clitoris, supposedly a woman's ultimate pleasure spot, but no real pleasure welled up. Yet her pussy was slick and sticky with arousal fluid, which made no sense if she wasn't feeling anything. Even watching female masturbation porn was just more intense versions of what she was doing—nothing different.
She tried a few more times after that, but still no pleasure. Maybe her technique sucked? She ordered masturbation toys online. She pressed the buzzing pink rotor—called that, apparently—to her clit and even eased it slightly into her entrance, but it only got her a bit wet. No pleasure.
At this point, stubborn pride kicked in. She could've lived happily ignorant, but now she had to know what this orgasm thing was. She picked the best-looking guy among the college dudes swarming her and started dating him. Handsome face, decent body. Didn't know about his dick size, but he could fuck, so whatever.
Dating was fun enough. He was hot, mannerly, even gave her some butterflies. She didn't forget her goal, though—couldn't just jump straight to sex, so she simmered for about six months before slyly signaling for her first time.
"Kuhk...!"
The hymen tearing hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes.
"Ye-jin, you okay?"
"Yeah... it's fine, oppa. Do whatever you want..."
It hurt, but the moment she'd been so curious about had arrived. She smiled at her boyfriend and told him to go ahead.
But how to put it...
"Ye-jin...! Uh...!"
It ended in just over ten minutes, her boyfriend looking satisfied. And she still felt nothing but pain—no pleasure.
'Because of the condom?'
She tried bareback after more buildup, but aside from the slick feel of semen trickling inside, it was the same.
They dated a bit over a year before breaking up. He wasn't bad, but once she confirmed he couldn't make her feel pleasure, her interest vanished.
Her quest for that elusive sensation persisted. She scoured info online and even visited a frigidity clinic on a whim. Diagnosis: severe frigidity.
She might've been better off quitting then. But Ye-jin stubbornly kept going to the clinic for treatment, failing every time. When the director said there was nothing more they could do, despair hit hard. All her efforts wasted, and she'd never feel the sexual desire and pleasure others took for granted.
Unable to give up, she sought other paths. Sometimes even closed-off erogenous zones could open with the right trigger. Don't lose hope, the director said as a final comfort. She clung to that. Her first boyfriend just had bad chemistry—no pleasure. Maybe a better match would change things.
Problem: how to find a compatible guy? Dating and progressing to sex took too long. Repeating that would trash her reputation. Clubs? Too risky—who knew what could happen.
Eventually, she settled on an opi. It felt gross, but she could meet lots of guys quickly, and the manager handled bad customers, offering some safety.
She joined the opi, learning from the manager: greeting clients, small talk, showers, procedures, handling complainers... and "practice" sex sessions. The manager's dick was a bit bigger than her ex's, so she had hopes, but same result. He raved about how tight she was, but that just meant he felt good. He suggested faking reactions since hers were too flat.
Then came the real clients. Honestly, it just sucked. Most didn't meet her standards, and none gave her pleasure. A month, two months in, she fully gave up.
'Guess it's hopeless.'
Clients included fit guys, hotties, big dicks—but none sparked even faint pleasure. Ironically, they all left satisfied. Repeat visits piled up. Why keep picking her? "Your insides are unforgettable."
Annoyed, she dropped the sweet act, but they kept coming. Body already sacrificed, money rolling in absurdly—she figured pay off her tuition loans and quit. Pleasure? Forgotten long ago.
And today, Ye-jin took another client. Decent-looking, solid build.
"Prettier than I expected?"
Smooth talker. Guys like this were either opi vets or player types. Neither interesting. Still, better than ugly or rude—easier to deal with.
"Shall we shower first?"
"Uh, yeah...?"
After dropping the act, this part got annoying. It streamlined things but killed the vibe, leading to "Whoa, that fast?" reactions.
Best to just push through quickly.
"First time at an opi?"
"No, not exactly..."
"Then why freeze up? Gotta shower before fucking. You're not planning to solo it anyway—I'll wash you."
"True, but..."
"But what? Want me to undress you too?"
The guy blinked in confusion, gauging her face. Usually, they'd stammer along or bitch about her attitude. This one wasn't complaining.
"Yeah. Undress me."
"Tch..."
What a hassle. She tsked involuntarily. Maybe she shouldn't have offered, but it wasn't a big deal. He seemed fine skipping bullshit and getting to it—no complainer.
Undressing him piece by piece revealed muscles rare among opi clients—toned and defined, not over-bulked. Just the appealing kind. Hard to tell under clothes, but damn, nice body.
'Face is decent, body's this good—girls must flock to him.'
Why hit an opi? Not shy, from his actions. Girlfriend not putting out? Random thoughts as she slid her hands down to remove his pants.