The Soft Switch
Her tongue boasted a strange texture. Not the kind of mouthfeel you get chewing beef tongue, or anything so ordinary.
I could tell something stood up in tiny, dense bumps—and yet it wasn't rough like a cat's. A soft texture. Soft, and relentless.
It kept registering. As that tongue moved like a caress, strength drained out of me bit by bit, its motion working like a switch that shut down every last shred of wariness.
"Mmph—hah…"
At the sensation of something moving inside my mouth with no regard for my will, I grabbed Minseo's shoulders and tried to push her off, certain that if this went any further something would go wrong.
It felt exactly like planting my palms against a boulder jutting from a mountainside and shoving. The difference in power was absolute. Instinct told me that no matter how hard I pushed, she would not move.
There was no escape. All I could do was endure the sensation of a tongue ravaging the inside of my mouth, my body going slack, my stomach losing all tension, my legs slowly drawing together until my thighs touched and I was locked in that strange, folded posture.
I could only breathe through my nose. And every time I inhaled, I took in the warm, pleasant scent rising from deep inside Minseo's body.
"…"
I closed my eyes. Keeping them open would only have sent them rolling back into my head.
The urge to lift my hips kept rising, and it felt wrong. Goosebumps, maybe.
Against my will—the way you try to stop shivering on a cold day only to start trembling again—my pelvis lifted of its own accord.
My legs, already drawn tight, began to shift in small restless motions and bumped against Minseo's. We tangled together in a messy knot, and the feeling was strange. The soft knock of shin against shin felt almost tender.
"……Pff."
Minseo still had her tongue deep inside me, breathing only through the narrow gap of her lips. By now it had left the shape of a kiss entirely and become something closer to pure plunder of my mouth—skimming my teeth, prying my jaw wider, tracing the inside of my upper teeth—
And then her fingers found the gap between the waistband of my pants and my stomach.
Goosebumps prickled up, but it wasn't the unpleasant kind. It felt more like lighting a cigarette after quitting.
"Hep—hah, hah…"
All I could do was force rough breaths out through the slit of my parted lips.
Between us we were trading air already warmed by each other's lungs, drawing in more carbon dioxide than usual.
Her hand moved gently, slipped inside the band—
and stroked down over my lower belly, then lower still, brushing past something that stood out in a soft little peak before her fingers bent and changed course.
There was nowhere flat left for them to go; they simply followed the surface. The sensation of fingerprints, palm lines, and knuckles gliding over that small protruding thing felt like a low current running through me.
"Mmph—hh…"
At the very least, it was not a place I could simply hand over for someone else to do with as they pleased.
I didn't have whatever universal feelings a woman was supposed to have about it—I'd only ever guarded it because I hated the sensation of something pushing into me—but I still had to stop her.
I tried to reach out. The hand that had been clutching the bed stretched toward Minseo to restrain her, but my arm never rose. Strength had simply left it; all it managed was to stroke the soft blanket beneath me.
"Eh—heh—"
Something was wrong. I couldn't put any force into my body at all.
And at the same time, a slender column—thin enough not to feel threatening—carefully tapped at the entrance. Sticky fluid between us, it tapped at that hole with soft, wet little sounds.
A sound I never thought I would make slipped out of my mouth.
"Haehanhi?"
Minseo, still locked to my lips, asked.
You okay?
I didn't know what she was asking about. All I wanted was for her to somehow take control of this body that had grown strangely hot, that kept making me rub my thighs together.
So I answered with my eyes. Whether it actually reached her I couldn't know—I only stared at her pupils with everything I had.
And then a finger with strangely short nails slipped in, cute and smooth—
and the feeling was exactly the same as when Jiwoo had pushed past my tonsils. I had expected only pain, only ache, only shame—and instead there was almost no sensation at all.
Just a faint suction, like setting something on the mouth of a vacuum jar and feeling it draw gently inward.
Pop. The finger came free. Had even a single knuckle gone in? For a moment I felt a sharp, aching regret.
"…"
Minseo pulled her head back at once.
A clear string stretched between our lips… then, past a certain point, snapped free and ran down under my mouth and along my throat. A long wet mark would surely be left on my clothes as well.
"…Ah…?"
"Pff… Just kidding. What, did you think I was actually going to put it in?"
My head was foggy. As if whatever I'd been breathing hadn't been oxygen at all.
Thinking was hard.
"What if you ended up hating me for it? Hmph! Say ah."
"…Aaah…?"
Minseo, who had already withdrawn her hand from inside my pants, held that far wetter hand up in front of my eyes. Then she pushed one finger into my mouth—
"…!"
Hot liquid touched my tongue. And suddenly something—a recent memory—flared up.
A finger slick with something fishy, slippery, and hot against my tongue.
I jerked. Pure reflex, pure shock.
I covered the unbuttoned front of my top with one arm, still wearing my pants but drawing my knees to my chest and crossing my shins, and pressed myself back against the edge of the bed.
What had I—what had I just done? No—what was that?
"Hmph! Ah, shit. You're so cute! Augh! Aaah!"
Minseo just beamed at the sight of me—lips still thoroughly wet—then started pounding the mattress in delight.
Before I could even react she lunged and crushed me in a hug so tight a strangled squeak escaped me.
And only then did it come back to me. Minseo had always been like this…
"…"
"…"
"…"
I didn't know why Jiwoo had bothered to come in only to sit there looking awkward, but the room was thick with it.
I was simply lost in thought.
Of course I was—
Was I okay like this? In two days—if you counted strictly by the clock, in a single day—I had done that kind of thing with two different people.
We hadn't had sex. We hadn't had sex, and yet.
No. Wait. At that level, it was sex.
If swallowing cum with your throat and having someone else finger your pussy (even if it hadn't quite gone that far) didn't count as sex, then what did?
"…Ugh…"
The sound slipped out on its own. Of course my underwear was soaked through.
…Could you even call it "soaked"? Measured by absolute volume, my fluids probably took up more space than the fabric itself.
There was enough of a mark on my pants that it showed from the outside.
"…Mm. Should we go eat?"
Jiwoo was the first to speak. Maybe because she hadn't been part of what just happened, she could break the silence. Minseo, uncharacteristically, just stared a hole through the floor without a word.
"Y-yes."
I answered short. Jiwoo had only come in a moment ago; she clearly had no idea what had actually gone on.
And more than anything, there was that sensation from before.
Strength gone from my body, something strange and wet continually seeping out below, my head floating as if it were drifting somewhere far away.
It had only been a joining of mouth and mouth. Two things with no pleasure organs to speak of, rubbing together—how could that do this?
Even without anything like love involved.
So a kiss really did have a remarkable power. It had to.
Otherwise—though there was no way to know for sure—I would have no excuse left for how wet I had gotten, wet enough that even this first penetration of the current "me" could have gone that smoothly.
The truth was, both of them wore the same beautiful shape as any woman. The phrasing might have been a little rude, but aside from the alien something between their legs, that was what they were—so all I had done was kiss a beautiful woman.
Once the thought reached that far, my head cooled a little. I got up in a clumsy shuffle, straightened my clothes again, checked myself in the mirror for anything out of place, and headed for the cafeteria.
It was a truly strange feeling. As if every person in the world somehow knew I had been physically joined to the two walking beside me. The gazes felt a little sharp, so I kept my head down and walked the corridor.
Even from outside, the cafeteria was loud and lively. This wasn't the military; chatting over a meal was nothing. As long as no deadly plague was going around, it didn't matter.
At the door, Minseo held it open for me. I bowed my head and stepped in, and the low murmur rose at once into a proper chatter.
Near the entrance, Soyeon and Dahyun—who had been watching the door—saw me and came over.
"Ah, you're here? Hmph."
Soyeon approached at an easy pace. She traded a brief look of greeting with the two beside me, and then we all collected our food (garbage) and sat down at a table. Minseo carried Jiwoo's tray for her as well.
"…"
"If you're sick, you have to say so, okay?"
I had done almost nothing all day, so I wasn't even particularly hungry. I was just locked in a pointless staring contest with the food, with no desire to shove any of it in, when Soyeon spoke and laid a hand flat on my forehead.
"Ah…!"
"Hah…! You're damp! Hmph…!"
Soyeon pulled her hand away. Dahyun was looking back and forth between me and everyone else. It felt a little like watching a detective hunting for a culprit, and I shrank without meaning to.
"I-I'm not sick. I'm fine…"
"Yeah? Your face looks a little red. Cold sweat, too?"
That was Soyeon's answer. I hoped she would just decide my temperature had gone up from hanging out and talking with friends.
"You are a bit flushed. Security was looking for you earlier, but just take the day off today."
Dahyun followed up. The way she lightly stroked my hair made it look like she was genuinely worried about me.
Come to think of it, she was the one who had said she'd get revenge if they came back without me—so maybe it was only natural.
The joke was that when we actually made it back, I was the only one who was fine… Still, having something to do was good.
So I shook my head. From the atmosphere it didn't seem important, and if it had been a real problem Dahyun would have said so up front.
There was no cigarette to light after the meal, and the meal itself had been nothing satisfying, so I finished quickly and headed at a brisk pace for the place security usually hung around.
For a word like "security," they were all in casual clothes, half-leaning here and there as they fiddled with PDAs. A few had brought laptops and were sitting with them open.
"Ah. Administrator. You're here?"
At the honorific—something I felt like I hadn't heard in a long time—I bowed my head, and a hand settled on my arm at once.
"Would you stand over here?"
They set me in front of a monitor that looked somehow familiar. Whether it was natural or not, there was no explanation of any kind.