The Dream
As I stood there silently, my expression clouded with confusion, Mina studied me for a moment before asking again.
"Does your mother know that Jinwoo is your friend?"
She had no way of knowing.
The last time Jinwoo had seen my mother was seven years ago, at an open school day.
And in the seven years since, Jinwoo hadn't laid eyes on her once.
Besides, my mother hadn't really looked at Jinwoo properly back then, so there was no chance she remembered his face.
She probably wouldn't remember the name Kim Jinwoo either.
Maybe I'd mentioned something back in middle school like "there's a kid in my class with a name similar to mine," but I couldn't remember it myself, so I doubted Mom would—and even if some flicker of it remained, I couldn't imagine it surfacing the moment Jinwoo appeared before her.
My mother had no idea that Kim Jinwoo was my friend.
That much was certain.
When I shook my head, Mina pressed on.
"And there was nothing in the bet's terms about that, right?"
There wasn't.
I hadn't thought that far ahead, and Jinwoo hadn't attached any condition along those lines either.
"Since you said you'd give your answer about the bet tomorrow anyway, how about this? When you give Jinwoo your answer tomorrow, tell him: 'You have to seduce my mother knowing full well that you're my friend, and with her knowing it too. If you succeed, you win; if she turns you down, I win.' In that case, you'd win for sure. I guarantee it."
For some reason, Mina looked almost excited.
She was utterly convinced that a mother would never, ever fall for the seduction of her son's friend.
Come to think of it, I could see it too—if Jinwoo knew he was seducing my mom, and she knew, there was no way she'd succumb to his charms.
And yet in that moment, something like disappointment surged through my chest.
Disappointment? Over what?
I told the oddly giddy-looking Mina that I'd do exactly that. She nodded along, then glanced at the clock on the wall.
"It's eleven thirty. You need to be home by midnight, right?"
Had she seen the texts my mom kept sending me?
Mina rose from the bed and came down to take my hand.
My eyes drifted, inevitably, between her legs.
A milky fluid was seeping from her pussy, trailing down the inside of her thighs.
Her legs wobbled as she stepped down off the bed, her hand in mine.
Whether it was the alcohol finally hitting her or the pleasant aftereffects of good sex, I couldn't tell.
Smiling, Mina wrapped her arms around me, and together we headed for the shower.
Just like the first time, she washed me with meticulous, loving care.
I surrendered my body to her and let myself be served. She lathered body wash between her hands and scrubbed every corner of me clean.
If a woman like this stayed by your side for the rest of your life, how happy would you be?
When the shower was over, Mina toweled me dry, blow-dried my hair, helped me dress, and smoothed down my rumpled head.
"We can't have your mom catching on that you went somewhere strange, can we?"
She said it with a laugh.
Once everything was ready, she called a taxi through the app and saw me off at the door just as it pulled up.
So the first sexual experience of twenty-one-year-old Kim Jiwoo was, by every measure, perfect—and yet my head was still a tangled mess.
The thought that my cock had satisfied a woman made the world look entirely different the moment I stepped out that door, and at the very same time, I was agonizing over how to answer Jinwoo tomorrow about the bet with my mother on the line.
By the time I got home, it was a little past twelve.
As expected, Mom was still awake, watching TV in the living room.
No anger, no irritation.
When I opened the front door and stepped inside, she simply came out from the living room to greet me.
"What could possibly be so fun that you're this late? Been drinking a lot?"
This was my mother—nothing like Mina, the woman of the night I'd just been with.
Mom stood there in a baggy gray t-shirt and loose shorts.
My sweet, thoughtful, devoted, beautiful, kind-hearted mom.
"We just had a lot to catch up on, seeing each other after so long. Sorry."
When I said that, she smiled, gave my butt a playful little smack, and asked, "Want me to make you some ramyeon?"
But looking at her, I couldn't help but picture the bet I'd just made with Jinwoo—the one with my mother as the stakes.
I had given my friend, a man who intended to violate my mother's body, explicit permission to pursue her.
The fact gnawed at my conscience until, pleading exhaustion, I mumbled something about needing to sleep and retreated to my room, shutting the door behind me.
I'd showered thoroughly before leaving anyway, so I didn't feel the need to wash again.
I stripped down to my underwear, collapsed onto the bed, and sank into sleep as if I'd blacked out.
When I opened my eyes, sunlight was already streaming through the window.
My body felt a thousand pounds heavy.
Even as I felt like I might sink straight through the mattress into the floor, I sensed some strange sound drifting in from somewhere.
It was familiar, as if I'd heard it before somewhere—and yet so grotesque and alien that it stirred something close to fear.
At times it seemed like a sweet, lilting song; at others, sharp and unpleasant, like a saw grinding through metal.
As though an invisible hand had hold of me and was dragging me down, I forced my leaden body upright.
It was my room, the familiar one.
The door was still closed.
The sound was coming from beyond it.
What on earth was that noise?
No matter how hard I focused, I couldn't pin the sound down to anything specific.
As if under some spell, I moved toward the door.
When I opened it, the living room I knew so well spread out before me.
If I crossed the living room, I would reach the master bedroom my mother used.
The bedroom door stood open.
But something was wrong.
Bars?
The door was clearly wide open, yet vertical bars covered it.
Feeling a strange, creeping dread, I approached the doorway.
The bars were wooden. The gaps between them were obviously wide enough for my body to pass through easily, but somehow, impossibly, I couldn't get through.
I finally gave up on crossing and peered into the room.
Only then did I understand the source of that strange, unceasing sound.
It was my mother's moaning.
She was naked.
Baring her milk-white, lush body completely, my mother stood at the edge of the bed, hands braced against the mattress, bending at the waist and thrusting her hips back toward the room.
She looked younger than usual, somehow.
Her ponytail—swept up high—was longer and more lustrous than even Mina's had been last night.
Bent over as she was, her full, heavy breasts hung downward, but they had lost none of their spring.
And pressed against her offered ass was a man.
Perhaps because his legs were somewhat short, my mother had to spread her legs wide and bend her knees slightly just to match his height.
Matching his height meant aligning the cock hanging between the man's legs with the hole between my mother's.
From behind her, the man gripped her hips with both hands and drove his cock into her pussy again and again.
Head bowed, my mother surrendered herself to his rough rhythm, rocking back and forth, moaning with every thrust.
"Ah... ah... honey... a little more... a little harder... ahh... honey..."
It was the moan of a woman begging, pleading—and barely conquering the shame of her own desperate craving.
Then my mother turned her head to the side.
When our eyes met, she let out a shriek of laughter, covered her face with one hand.
"Honey, Jiwoo's watching."
The man pumping into her from behind turned his head toward me too, and only then did I see who he was.
It was Dad.
Dad met my eyes without a flicker of embarrassment, smiled, and kept thrusting into my mother's pussy.
If anything, he seemed determined to give me a better view—he gathered her ponytail in one hand and pulled it back.
As her head was dragged back and her shameless expression was laid completely bare before me, Mom tried her best to hide her face behind her hand, but somehow she looked like she was enjoying it.
"What's gotten into you? Did you eat something good today? Why are you being such a pervert..."
Mom whined, but she looked happy.
Dad pulled her upper body back against him, seized both her breasts in his hands, and kept pounding away.
He looked exactly as I remembered him—barely taller than Mom, with slightly shorter legs.
Thin body, dark and wrinkled face.
Ugly, in a word.
Set against my mother's firm, sumptuous figure, he looked like a single insect clinging to a ripe, juicy peach.
And yet Mom, taking him inside her while he kneaded her breasts, wore an expression of pure bliss.
Before long, Dad's movements quickened.
"I'm close... honey, I'm coming... get pregnant... let's have another baby..."
"Honey... just a little... a little more... ahh... hahh... ahhn..."
Ignoring her plea for more, Dad's hips only drove faster until, with several hard slams into her ass, he finished.
He was clearly coming inside her, bare.
Mom panted, holding still and waiting until Dad had savored every last moment of it.
Her expression, though, clearly said she hadn't been fully satisfied.
Mom slipped herself off Dad's cock and collapsed onto the bed.
Dad draped himself over her back.
Together, they looked at me.
"What do you think you're doing to Mom in front of your son?"
Mom chided him playfully, pouting at Dad.
And in that instant, the voice that answered sounded different.
"That's exactly what makes it taste better—eating Mom right in front of her son."
The face of the man looking at me as he said it was not my father's.
Grinning ear to ear, draped over my mother's back, one hand knotted in her hair as he licked her cheek—the man's face was Kim Jinwoo's.
I woke with a start, my whole body drenched in sweat, heart hammering like mad.
My cock stood rigid, my underwear soaked through and warm.