Jealous.... (7)
“Hnnngh.” Smack, smack, smack.
Seonghwan couldn’t help but feel troubled, even as he inhaled the sweet, fragrant scent amid the eager press of those moist lips against his own.
Oh man… it’s almost 2 already.
He’d skipped lunch entirely to meet up with Yuri, then spent over two hours rolling around, groping each other, and fucking like crazy. Of course, he hadn’t relentlessly pounded her freshly deflowered, delicate folds like some maniac. But just overlapping their bodies, caressing, biting, and sucking had made time fly by like an arrow.
Three rounds in total.
After the first climax, Seonghwan had paused, worried her insides might be swelling up. But Yuri had clung to him fiercely, her hands never stopping as they roamed his body. Soon enough, his cock swelled hard again. She pulled out wet wipes from her bag, meticulously cleaned him off, then shook his rigid shaft with both hands until it throbbed.
Yuri was thorough to a fault.
During their first round, while Seonghwan was lost in excitement and focused on her body, she’d already laid out several thick handkerchiefs under her lower abdomen. She even had black plastic bags ready to bundle them up with the wipes. Luckily, there wasn’t much blood. Seonghwan had been inwardly anxious, but Yuri just smiled brightly, unfazed, as she cleaned up their mess.
After that ecstatic time together, the awkwardness between them had eased. Still, Seonghwan felt guilty for taking her virginity in such a shabby, outdoor spot. But Yuri seemed relieved, almost liberated, and started nestling into him even more aggressively.
Pat, pat, pat.
Without hesitation, she wiped his cock clean with a wet wipe, gripped it in her hand, and shook it. The moment she slipped the freshly cleaned shaft into her mouth, round two kicked off.
Even more intensely, even stickier. “Haaah… so, so good.” She’d already adapted to his thick cock plunging deep into her pussy, reaching her innermost depths. Before long, moans escaped her lips—the kind that made any man swell with pride.
“More, more… haaahk!”
Her toes curled tight, her pink nipples stood stiff and erect. At the sight, Seonghwan turned beastly, slamming into her pussy over and over. Round two ended in a flash.
Round three was entirely at Yuri’s insistence.
There was cardboard on the floor, but it was still hard concrete. After kneeling and moving frantically through two rounds, Seonghwan’s knees throbbed with pain. He tried to shift his legs and stand.
But Yuri, addicted to his body, pounced on him.
“Kuhk, no… Yuri, time’s…”
“Hnnngh… just a little more. It feels too good right now.”
The ice princess’s heart wasn’t just warming—it had ignited into a samba of passion. Hooking her legs around him seductively, her erotic allure made him harden again. She mounted him right there, rocking her hips.
No technique, but her desperate writhing, desperate to keep him buried deep inside, transmitted straight to Seonghwan. Overwhelmed by this beautiful woman’s erupting desire, he reached his third climax.
“It’s… all great, but my knees are scraped… fuck… ahk.”
Yuri was still draped around his neck, deep-kissing him, her hands toying relentlessly with his nipples. Whether from prior practice or pure instinct, she teased them with her index finger, circling lightly.
“It’s… getting hard again. Fuck, I’ve got class.”
Honestly, before class was even an issue, Seonghwan was utterly drained. Yuri clung to him like she was unleashing pent-up hunger, craving pleasure nonstop. He’d only cum three times, but from lunch until now, he’d been nonstop caressing her without a break.
Do all the Yuri sisters share some kind of trait? Yumi-sunbae too—why don’t they ever cool down after sex?
Remembering how Yumi had lately grown a bit obsessed with their hookups, Seonghwan started to fear Yuri might turn out the same. Not that he’d refuse. No one would turn down gorgeous women throwing themselves at him.
“Yuri, we really gotta get up now. I can’t skip class. We’ll have another chance soon, right?”
After that intense sex, treating Yuri naturally felt easy. Even after swapping explicit photos via messages or being alone, they’d always skirted raw talk like this—but the awkwardness was gone.
“Hmmm…”
Her slightly reluctant gaze made her look like a cute kitten clutching its owner’s leg.
How did the ice princess turn into this…?
Rather than shock at the sudden change, Seonghwan felt a thrilling buzz.
Her sharp eyes and plump lips still scream haughty, but damn, it’s so cute.
Unable to resist, he pulled her close, giving her a soft kiss.
Mwah.
“Hnnngh.”
Her coquettish, lustful voice sounded like a cat’s purr to him.
“Haaah.”
A light squeeze of her breast drew out even lewder sounds. Scenes no one else could imagine unfolded before him, sending shivers down his spine. The beauty other guys envied. Their secret intimacy, unknown to them. And not in the past—it was happening right now. Yuri hugging his neck, nestling into him, groping his chest—she was endlessly lovable.
Yeah, this feeling. This superiority. This sense of triumph. This cuteness.
Trembling with emotion, Seonghwan tightened his grip on her waist. Yuri looked up at him.
Grin.
A mischievous smile, the kind that’d embarrass anyone watching. Spotting it on his face, Yuri suddenly pulled something from her jacket beside them.
“Huh?”
As she slipped from his embrace to fetch it, Seonghwan finally paid attention. A white rectangular case with a round lens.
“Phone?”
Her sudden phone reveal left him baffled. Sure, a student with class soon pulling out their phone wasn’t weird—but her odd expression was. Eyebrows furrowed sharply, nose scrunched, lips twitching in a naughty grin. Her mouth, which had just licked him all over, stretched wide, flashing her neat white teeth in a brilliant smile.
What… the hell? This is unsettling…
She turned on the screen, showed it to him, and tapped away.
“2 o’clock.”
“Oh? Ah… haha, what’d I think it was. It’s only five minutes’ walk from here to the language hall. Not far. You got no class?”
Class time had been nagging at him anyway. He hadn’t mustered the will to peel her off, but her checking the time and reminding him warmed him. He smiled brightly.
But Yuri shook her head, disproving his assumption. She fiddled with the screen and shoved it back at him.
Huh? …What… camera?
The camera app, lit up for low-light indoors. She aimed it at him with a sly smile.
“Let’s take one.”
“Take one? Of what? A pic? Here?”
Seonghwan glanced around, asking. She shook her head again, pointing first at him, then herself.
“Us.”
“……What?”
Her finger pointed at his disheveled, shirtless self. Her pink nipples still perky, pale skin fully exposed.
This is fucked.
Her expression was dead serious. No post-sex awkward joke. Seonghwan panicked.
“Y-Yuri? Even so, this is… If you want a proper pic, at least get dressed. Like those photo booths! Insta-stickers or whatever?”
He was desperate. Her face drew closer, her faint smile deepening with resolve to get her way.
“I wanna keep it. Have it forever.”
“No, I mean… take me. Take all of me. Please, have me. But no photos. Hey, listen—”
Despite his frantic protests, Yuri wrapped around his waist, pressing her face close.
Fuck, she’s gone full weird-mode.
Seonghwan, who’d received her lewd pics before, couldn’t shake the thought that their abnormal chats had warped her.
Was she always like this? Did I unlock it? No, not the point now.
Whatever the reason, he had to escape. As he calmly gripped her shoulders to reason—
“Yuri, calm down. Let’s think about our situation firs— Mmph? Mmmph?!”
Yuri ambushed him, yanking his neck down for a deep kiss. Sweet, wet lips crashed into his, parting them naturally. Her tongue slipped in without pause.
“Hnnngh.”
“Haaah.”
Seonghwan’s struggles faded. Yuri’s phone-wielding insistence melted. As lips and tongues met, they drowned in each other’s heat and scent.
Smack, smack, smack.
Feeling her soft lips, Seonghwan’s eyes slowly closed.
And click.
Click?
He snapped his eyes open toward the sound.
Click. Click.
“Fuck.”
Yuri’s eyes curved like crescent moons in satisfaction as she kept snapping.
“No, stop. Yuri, no—”
But she gripped his waist tighter, refusing to let go. Of course, click, click, click—the photos kept coming.
Fuck, non-consensual filming. A girl secretly filming a guy!!!
Even as he screamed internally, the ecstasy from her firm, soft breasts pressing against his chest made him curse his own body.
Men have instincts too. The deeper the love, the sharper they get.
A blank canvas of pure white, hands clasped as they slowly painted it together. A distant yet possible future where it filled with vibrant colors. That hope and faith had gripped Yunsu lately, cracking under anxiety.
He’d always been cautious, fearing stains on that white. But now, it felt like their present was denying their past—the clasped hands pulling apart.
Or worse: the “blank” canvas he’d believed in was already fully painted long ago. His brushstrokes meaningless now.
Others said he had nothing to regret, but reality differed. Her fresh debut look. That refreshing, cozy faint smile. Slender eyes, nose, lips exuding pure innocence—not flashy, but his ideal. A single white lotus. Not a bold rose or hyacinth, but a simple beauty etched in memory forever.
He adored that lotus. No room for push-pull games with a flower that wouldn’t return if pushed.
“Haaa… nothing’s going my way lately.”
A bitter smile as he walked, then spotted a familiar back ahead, head bowed.
Recognizing it, Yunsu quickened his pace.
Thud.
“Hey, asshole, why no reply to my texts?”
The guy flinched, then turned.
“Fuck. I’m already dying here, and you come swinging.”
“Huh? You look different from this morning. What happened—suddenly all limp?”
“……Just scraped knees.”
“Knees? Outta nowhere? Did you trip or some shit?”
Up close, Seonghwan stood awkwardly, knees bent—he was clearly hurting.
“Ah, fuck. Yeah, something like that. What message?”
Seonghwan swiftly changed the subject. Yunsu smirked, slinging an arm over his shoulder.
“What else? You read it. Ghosting like a pro, huh?”
“Oh… that. Saturday, 3 PM? 2:30 should do?”
“Little late’s fine. Yesul and I’ll meet first, grab tickets, prep everything.”
“When you ditching? After the movie?”
“Yeah. Got an excuse ready. Sudden trip to the countryside with parents.”
“Early dismissal for office workers? Not buying ancestral rite bullshit as an excuse?”
“Not that, dumbass. Cousin’s wedding Sunday—parents heading down Saturday evening to greet relatives first. Got the mobile invite. I’m a student, said I don’t have to go, but got dragged along anyway. After the movie, fake a call with Dad and bounce.”
“Let’s see that acting.”
“You’ll be blown away.”
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t be late.”
“Yeah.”
To shake off weekend anxiety, Yunsu forced a smile, reminiscing about the ecstatic warehouse memory with Seonghwan and the photo tug-of-war after. Thus, they awaited the weekend.
The last Saturday of March. Warm enough for thin jackets, fully spring. Gone the chilly winter; warm breezes brought couples flocking to weekend date spots.
And Seonghwan stood frozen, staring endlessly at the ticket in his hand.
Between Love and Friendship.
3:15 PM.
Screen 4, Row F, Seat 14.
“……”
He looked up at the ticket booth. Yunsu laughed, pointing at popcorn options. Beside him, Yesul nodded along.
Love and…
Turning, he spotted a huge mirror by the poster. His reflection: statue-still, ticket in hand, alone.
Friendship, huh…
His grip tightened on the ticket.
Is this a dream? Not action—romance? A rewatch? Sandwiched between couples?
Yunsu’s bright laugh carried from afar.
“Hahaha, Seonghwan and I’ll devour the popcorn anyway, so go big. Don’t worry.”
Seonghwan’s face twisted.
This is fucked. Totally fucked. My bad for trusting you.
Even before it started, he remembered every scene. He worried he’d doze off mid-movie.