Teacher's Day
"See you tomorrowwww~~~~~"
I waved goodbye to Ahyeon, who stuck her head out the bus window and vanished with a Doppler effect wail. Then I hopped on the next bus. My destination was the new neighborhood where Seonhye had recently moved.
Sitting in my seat, I closed my eyes for a moment and sank into memories of her. That lewd act at the kindergarten was just a fond recollection now. Her voluptuous breasts that I couldn't fully grasp even spreading my hands wide, the slutty nature hidden beneath her love for her husband and child—it was definitely more than a mere pastime. Still, I couldn't say I felt zero guilt toward her. Back then, with my immature little body, I had no choice but to be a bit rough and forceful with a grown woman like Seonhye. Of course, I could confidently say she enjoyed that treatment even more, but regrets lingered.
[Next stop...]
The bus announcement pulled me deeper into thought. When I'd spoken to Seonhye that morning, I couldn't help feeling a twinge of pity for her sweet, syrupy nasal whine. Distance breeds detachment in the heart, so I half-expected her to revert to her old prickly self. But no—over the phone, she was still nothing but a horny bitch in heat. That's why I gave her nearly half a day of grace. Time to snap out of the sea of lust, shift from bitch back to wife and mother. And that reprieve seemed to have worked wonders.
I pulled out my phone from my pocket and checked the message that had arrived around lunchtime. A faint smile crossed my lips.
This curt little message meant she'd come to her senses—and it was the perfect stimulant to ignite my conquest drive. Just groping and pounding her body wasn't enough. After all, it was Teacher's Day. I'd give her pleasure far beyond what that immature kid she'd submitted to back then could offer. That was my idea of the ultimate Teacher's Day gift.
*
After riding the bus for nearly 30 minutes to the outskirts of Seoul, I took a taxi and arrived at a house standing alone in an open field. A neat, stately two-story home greeted me. Clutching an expensive gift set I'd bought nearby in one hand, I stood before the door. Before entering the yard, a heavy iron gate loomed, firmly locked. I pressed the intercom.
Ding-dong—
"Wh-who is it?"
"Who do you think?"
It was exactly the voice from our morning call, but the tone had shifted completely. Wary, reluctant, laced with caution. I grinned. I'd worried she'd melt into heat just hearing my voice after that text, but Seonhye exceeded expectations. Right now, she wasn't a bitch—she was a woman with common sense firmly in place. And my job was to turn her back.
But I wiped the predatory smirk away and forced a scowl. Time for some acting.
"...You gonna open up?"
A low, intimidating growl, laced with irritation.
"...I misspoke this morning. I even texted you. I don't want to see you, so go away."
"Hilarious. You bring that up now? If you wanna say crap like that, do it to my face. Plus, there's important grown-up talk to have."
"......"
Seonhye was on high alert about facing me. She was suppressing her instincts with superhuman willpower right now, but her body was already heating up, recalling the ecstasy I'd given her. If I barged in and pinned her down, could she resist? Unable to answer that clearly, she'd chosen avoidance from the start.
"I have nothing to say."
Click—
She'd hung up, leaving only faint static. Of course, I'd anticipated her refusing to even open the door.
"Figures."
Sneering at her, I fired off a text. Simple: one photo and Open.
Clank—
The gate that seemed unbreakable swung open easily. I crossed the spacious yard and reached the front door. As I went to ring again—
Creeeak—
Thud—
The door opened first. But calling it "open" was a stretch—it cracked just a handspan, secured by a chain that screamed caution. An anxious gaze peered from the dark interior. Seonhye's eyes were glued to the phone in my hand.
"Th-that... photo..."
"Oh, this? Screenshot from a video."
"V-video?"
"Yeah. Wanna see?"
Grinning, I fiddled with my phone. A video started playing. I turned the screen so she could see clearly.
"Ah! Hahng! So good!"
"Th-that's!"
Her blood ran cold. Pale as a ghost, Seonhye stared in horror at the lewd video playing before her. A younger version of herself starred in it, masturbating with obscene moans.
"Kkh!"
A hand shot through the gap, trying to snatch my phone. But I'd already pocketed it.
"Short-sighted, aren'tcha?"
I let out a sly chuckle.
"You think I'd only save it on this phone?"
"Even if you blackmail me with that video, I won't commit adultery...!"
I doused her resolve with cold water.
"No, Teacher."
Suddenly switching to polite speech, I shrugged theatrically.
"I'm just visiting my old mentor to whom I owe a debt. Blackmail? Adultery? What are you talking about?"
"What?"
"Think about it. Did I ever say I was coming to you? Mention body or affair?"
"Well..."
I slipped my hand through the gap. If she slammed the door, my fingers could turn to pulp—but I smirked confidently.
"I'm just here to say hi. So don't worry and open up."
"Then that video..."
"Wouldn't things go smoother if you opened the door?"
Her reason screamed no, alarms blaring nonstop. But instinct and heart pulled the opposite way. Even reason started rationalizing: no choice if he keeps blackmailing with the video. With trembling hands, she unhooked the chain.
Creeeak—
"C-come... in."
"No polite speech to the end, huh?"
I teased. Seonhye froze, clenching her fist and yelling.
"Don't make me laugh! Why the hell should I be polite to you?!"
Age, status, relationship—zero reason for her to use formal speech with me.
"Well, 'cause you're the bitch and I'm the stud?"
"What the...!"
I waved it off, cutting her short. I'd teach her that with my body later.
"Think what you want."
Watching how long that cocky facade would last sounded fun.
"Oh, Teacher's Day gift here. Truth is, this was the main reason I came."
A pricey red ginseng gift set, properly prepared. I shoved the box into her arms and slipped off my shoes at the entryway.
"Feed it to your hardworking husband or your study-weary daughter, whatever."
Emphasizing "whatever," I strode inside.
"You keep it nice and tidy."
"I let you in. Took the gift. Delete the video now."
I ignored the warning, sightseeing the house. A woman's touch on housework gave it a unique interior flair, but tidy enough for her to brag about being a full-time housewife.
"Why so stingy?"
In the spacious living room, I flopped onto the sofa, crossing my legs.
"At least give me a cup of coffee."
*
Seonhye irritably brewed coffee and slammed it down in front of me.
Thud—
"You're really leaving after just this, right?"
"Yep."
"And delete the video?"
"Of course."
The cup was half-full, steam wafting up.
"But I like lukewarm coffee, so I'll let it cool a bit before drinking?"
"What if I add ice now?"
"I'd stay till it melts, right?"
Blatant intent to linger. Gnawing her thumbnail in anxiety, she finally burst.
"When the hell did you record that?"
"Oh, that video? Three years ago? Four?"
I scratched my cheek vaguely.
"But that's not the point, is it?"
Gazing at the ceiling, I sighed shortly.
"Ahh, it was so good back then... right?"
"No."
She straightened, answering firmly.
"I was just... temporarily insane. My judgment was clouded. I have a husband and kids. I never should've done that."
"Not anymore?"
"...Right. Don't expect any more nonsense like that."
"If you say so..."
Suddenly, I shot up and closed in on her, yanking her into a hug.
"Wh-what the hell!"
She struggled, but my strength overwhelmed her. My arms locked around her body tight.
"Kinda sad to part like this. Lemme touch you one last time before I go."
Hand on her breast, I whispered low.
"Scream and call the neighbors or cops—I don't care. Who'd believe you? That a guy visiting his old kindergarten teacher assaulted a woman?"
A man assaulting a woman? Socially inconceivable. Bound to raise eyebrows. And...
"Plus, someone might see the video on my phone."
That's why she couldn't scream or fight big.
"So be good. I'll leave once the coffee cools."
Biting her lip hard, Seonhye had no choice but to endure my groping hands on her body.