The 'Childhood Friend' Who Fits Snugly... Fits What, Exactly?
Yurim was beside me.
Looking at her chest, I noticed she hadn't managed to button up all the way. As I stared down into that deep, plunging cleavage, my mind raced through excuses to touch it right then and there.
My sister let me touch her while I gave her a massage.
If I did something similar with Yurim and asked her to let me give her a massage first, that should work.
React suggestively on purpose to set the mood, then swap roles and grope her naturally under the guise of returning the favor. And if things went well, I could work her up so badly that she'd be desperate to pounce on me.
First, I'll need to fake a bad shoulder.
I hunched my body up, then let out a groan of discomfort while rotating my arm in slow circles.
"Ugh."
"What's wrong?"
The moment I started playing up the pain, Yurim's attention was on me.
Acting is everything here.
I scrunched up my whole face and pretended I couldn't move at all.
"Aaghh... I think I threw my shoulder out."
I looked up at her with my features twisted into the ugliest grimace I could manage. But instead of reacting the way I'd expected, Yurim just covered her mouth and pointed at me with one hand, laughing.
"Pfft, that's what you get for never exercising."
Wow. A little betrayed, honestly.
But looking at Yurim's expression, she wasn't mocking me. We were just close enough that she could tease me like this.
I'm not joking around, though. If I want to get eaten up, I'll have to keep raising the stakes.
I kept up the performance with everything I had, fueled by nothing but the sheer determination to get my hands on her.
"Hey, hey, I'm serious. It really hurts. Ungh."
"It's that bad? Good grief, come here."
Only after I'd kicked up a big enough fuss did Yurim start to sense something was off. When she beckoned me over with genuine worry in her voice, I cheered silently inside.
Alone with Yang Dajun, Yurim's heart pounded as if she were holding her breath.
Every time her eyes flicked to the shopping bag she'd set beside her, her lips trembled and her insides twisted with anxiety.
When should I give him the chocolate...?
She'd bought it as a Valentine's Day gift. But if she could help it, she wanted to hand it over at the perfect moment and confess her feelings properly.
Could I really confess like a proper woman?
Yurim lowered her head and stole a glance at her own palm. It still felt as if melted chocolate clung to her hand.
Dajun, do you have any idea what I'm thinking right now?
She'd worked up the courage to come over, and Yang Dajun was acting far too casual around her. Wandering out in loose, baggy clothes. Skipping even the corrective underwear a boy should wear in front of a girl. He clearly had zero awareness of himself as a man.
Keep that up and I won't be able to hold back. I'm supposed to endure it until the confession, though.
Yurim lay under the blanket, breathless, as if she'd just sprinted a mile. She gripped her fidgeting hands together and forced herself to breathe normally, pretending everything was fine.
Then Yang Dajun lit the fire all over again.
"Ugh."
"What now?"
"Aaghh... I think I threw my shoulder out."
He groaned and rolled his shoulder, and that expression of his made her heart flutter.
A face twisted up in pain, the kind you'd only see in a dirty video. It looked like the face of someone having his first time, and her lust flared hot.
He was moaning in clothes so loose they practically hung off him, and she knew that if she let him keep going she'd end up tackling him—so she blurted out words she didn't mean.
"Pfft, that's what you get for never exercising."
"Hey, hey, I'm serious. It really hurts, ungh."
Yang Dajun hunched up with a wounded look on his face. Seeing him grimace worried her, and she glanced around a beat too late.
Guess he really is hurt. But...
At the same time, another thought wriggled up from somewhere inside her, and she clenched both fists.
Yurim swallowed and stole a sidelong look at Yang Dajun's body.
Gulp.
He was wary of other women, but with her—his childhood friend—his guard would surely be down. The mere thought of their bodies pressed together made her thighs squeeze shut.
I want to hold him... but that much I'll have to hold back.
Yurim scooted back slightly to make room, then patted the floor and had Yang Dajun sit down in front of her.
"Come here."
"Nnh."
With him seated in front of her, she could feel for herself how much smaller he was. She wanted to rest her chin on top of his head, but she just let a smile slip out and leaned in close instead.
"Heheh..."
"What?"
"Nothing."
He was such an innocent thing that he didn't even realize she was doing it on purpose.
Yurim held back the urge to let her breathing turn ragged and pressed her chest in even closer against him.
This is exactly what a couple would look like.
Two people of opposite sexes being this close simply wasn't possible at a normal, polite distance. If any other woman saw them right now, her lips would pucker into a furious pout and she'd be stamping the floor raw.
Yurim smiled to herself, grabbed Yang Dajun's forearm, and shook it around without rhyme or reason.
"Ack, what are you doing?"
"Hold still. That's how you're supposed to loosen it up."
Cute. Honestly.
The moment she pinned him down so he couldn't move, he started wailing about how much it hurt. Feeling like she had her beloved boy completely under her control, Yurim bit her lip.
Maybe he was trying to remind her that he was a man—every time she kneaded his shoulder, a suggestive little sound escaped him.
"Aahh."
"Ah—sorry."
She hesitated for a moment, but her hands never left him.
Her face flushed at her childhood friend's moans, and she secretly wet her lips.
Yang Dajun, you're way too obscene.
Her heart hammered in her chest until even her ears went numb.
Yurim pressed herself against him even tighter and steadily quickened the pace of her kneading.
She'd stayed pressed against Yang Dajun, massaging away, for quite a while.
"Yurim, hold on."
"Mm-hmm."
"Just a sec, please..."
"Mmm... hmm?"
By the time she finally came to her senses, Yang Dajun was shooting her a sidelong glance, his face on the verge of tears.
I-I've lost my mind!
Without even realizing it, she'd grabbed him tight and practically enveloped him in her arms. And that closeness was practically the same as caressing a lover's body.
Yurim jolted back in horror at how badly she'd overstepped.
"Hey, hey, sorry. I'm really sorry."
"Nn, I said that's enough..."
While Yang Dajun clutched his arm and groaned, Yurim privately bashed her own head in with regret.
Ugh, why did I get so worked up?
She'd resolved to confess to him, and she couldn't even hold out through this little moment. The thought that she might have shoved him onto the floor and pounced made her hang her head deep in shame.
"Yurim."
"What..."
She answered in a voice sunken with mortification. But the words that followed snapped her head up in shock.
"Let's swap. This time I'll massage you."
"W-wha, all of a sudden?"
"Nope, no taking no for an answer. Consider it my thanks."
No, I'd very much like to decline...?
Yurim remembered how her body had flinched every time Yang Dajun touched her.
Oh, hell no. That's too embarrassing.
In this world, a woman squirming and whimpering just because a man was touching her wasn't a pleasant experience—it was humiliating. But Yang Dajun barged right in, stubbornly insisting he'd rub her down too.
When I'd asked Yurim to massage me, things had escalated little by little.
My top was so loose that every time my shoulder dipped, she'd grab the fabric and haul it back up. And her face was close enough that her hot breath came puffing right onto me.
She's not even my sister... I'm gonna suffocate.
My deliberately lewd reactions had clearly gotten her worked up. When I let out an exaggerated moan, she'd freeze for a second before kneading again. When I stayed quiet and gave no reaction at all, her grip would ever so slyly tighten.
Yurim, you've got more of an edge than you let on.
After a while she was panting, her breath grown ragged, and sensing the moment had ripened, I offered to return the favor.
"What are you even saying... I only massaged you because you said you were hurt. No—forget it. Haa..."
No matter how she refused, I dug in my heels until she couldn't win, and she gave up.
"Ugh, seriously... how can a boy's stubbornness be this damn thick."
"Relax, I'll do it right. Now face forward."
She kept hesitating, so I turned her head to face away from me and laid my hands straight onto her shoulders.
And then.
"Hyaaah...!"
Before I'd applied even a fraction of force, Yurim pitched forward and let out a gooey, melting moan.
Her whole body jolted like she'd been electrocuted, and she floundered, not knowing what to do with herself. She bucked so hard I had to catch her before she bounced clean off the floor.
"Ah, hah...?"
"Why do you keep doing that?"
"W-wait a second... hahhh...!"
Still, after a few rounds of this, the dramatics died down.
"Hnnn... hah... hnnngh..."
I waited for Yurim to catch her breath, then poked her in the back a few times.
"It's awkward massaging you sitting up. Lie down for a bit."
"You want me to lie down...? What—hey, hey, don't push."
"Come on. My hands can't reach otherwise."
"Aghh..."
I patted the hesitating Yurim on the back and tried to tip her over onto her side. Using our height difference as leverage, I kept pushing, and once again she couldn't refuse.
Yurim turned her back to me and lay down flat—and her enormous breasts, crushed against the floor, spread out sideways like dough.
Her figure is incredible. And a girl like this is into me.
I drank in the inward curve of her lower back, slowly shook my head, then reached out again and began kneading.
"Yurim, shoulders feeling better?"
"Hah..."
"Hm? Can't hear you."
"F-feels good..."
Good, then.
I sat skewed off to her side, stretching my arms out to knead her. Her answering voice kept burrowing deeper and deeper into the pillow, but I paid it no mind and kept my hands moving. At first she let out a deep sigh with every squeeze, but as she went quiet, I slyly shifted position.
"Yang Dajun, what are you doing—"
"It's awkward from the side."
She started to twist around to look at me, so I cut her off quickly and climbed straight on top of her body.
Yurim lay face-down, her face buried in the pillow, her whole body pressed flat against the floor—and then I straddled her waist from above. The exact position a woman takes a man from behind.
"Yang Dajun, this is a bit much, don't you think...?"
"What is?"
"Haa... nothing... it's nothing..."
From behind, I could see Yurim's ears burning crimson.
Cute.
She probably assumed I'd climbed on with pure, innocent intentions. Naturally, she was dead wrong.
She wore a white blouse and a black skirt, and the strap of her bra kept peeking through—every glimpse made my cock stiffen in my pants.
Looking down at Yurim from behind, I swallowed hard.
"Haaaah... are you done yet..."
"Nope? Loosen up those shoulders. Let me work them properly."
I rested my hands on Yurim's shoulders and pressed down with a gentle, steady force. I kneaded until the tension melted away, then raked my fingernails down her spine—and a moan burst right out of her.
"Hyaaang...!"
"Feeling good, Yurim?"
"Mm, mmhmm... feels good..."
Her voice came out stickier than before, her breath coming fast and shallow. Watching her, I teased her back with my fingertips, scratching along it hungrily while pressing firmly into everything around it.
And as my hands traveled lower, they grazed her ass, then slid all the way down to her outstretched legs.
The moment I touched her thigh, Yurim flinched in surprise and let out a cry.
"Aahhh...!"
She threw her head back with a sweet, melted voice, then promptly buried her face in the pillow with a muffled whumph. Startled by the sudden stimulation, her leg kicked up, her toes curling and clenching.
I didn't miss my chance. Like snatching a fish off a hook, I grabbed hold of that half-folded leg.
"Hey, hey, stop. What even—!"
"I'll knead this part too."
"I said don't touch my toes... ahyack!"
Yurim abandoned every last shred of her dignity as a woman, twisting her body this way and that in an attempt to wriggle free—but when I pressed down hard on the sole of her foot, she jolted with a moan that was half sob, half gasp.
She kept squirming, complaining that it tickled, but I wasn't about to let go now. I pinned Yurim's legs flat against the floor and settled my weight on top of them, straddling her.
"Ah, Yang Dajun, what are you doing... seriously, a boy like you... get off, come on..."
"Just lie still, I said. I'll do your butt too."
"Haa... there's nothing this kid won't say. Fine, enough—just not there..."
Ignoring her protests entirely, I stayed straddled over her thighs and laid my hands on her ass.
Her skirt was so tight it had ridden up as she slid forward, baring the whole line of her hips.
Her ass looks just like a peach.
The plump, jutting swell and the deep, shadowed crevice splitting it down the middle seized my gaze and refused to let go. Staring at that ass, swollen nearly as big as her chest, I ached to bury my face in it on the spot.
Gotta hold out until she eats me up first...
The whole point was to get her body so worked up she'd tackle me, so I just shook my head slowly back and forth. Instead, I let my eyes drift to the hip jutting out beside me.
I pressed down on that jutting pelvic bone—press, press—gauging its size with my palms.
God, if she pinned me down from above with these hips, it'd kill me.
A body practically born for milking a man dry—just thinking it made me shiver. Yurim, meanwhile, could only keep her face buried in the pillow, unable to utter a single word of protest as I groped the bone at her side rather than her ass itself.
"Ah, not there... Yang Dajun, hold on... aahh, I said don't knead my butt... ahyahh!"
I'd been biding my time, and the moment I grabbed hold of the soft underside of that lusciously ripe ass, Yurim rubbed her face against the pillow, utterly at a loss.
Every time I seized those cheeks in both hands and kneaded them, a fresh moan spilled out of her—and before long, a sultry wave of heat rose up from the deep valley between them, and the air went hot and thick.
"Hooo..."
Bewitched, I brought my face in close—until my nose was a hair's breadth from that enormous ass.
I stayed there, motionless and silent, for a long while, until Yurim asked in a voice half given over to whining,
"What are you doing, Yang Dajuun..."
"Mm. Nothing at all."
I'd come within an inch of burying my face right in there.
At her words I swiftly moved my hands back to her waist, keeping up the pretense of a massage.
Through the gap of those luscious dimples at the small of her back, a woman's scent spread out on a wave of scorching heat. That sweet, female musk needled sharp and bright into my brain until my cock stood rigid and my waistband was about to burst.
Hah... it's right there in front of me. How much more does it take before she pounces?
A man straddling a woman's body from behind was, for all intents and purposes, a man begging to be devoured. This much should have been more than enough for her to spin around and mount me on the spot—but Yurim just kept enduring, teeth clenched.
Sick of waiting, I decided to tempt her far more blatantly.
"Yurim."
"Whaaat..."
I waited for her answer—that voice of hers, melted down to syrup—then pressed my body slowly against hers and whispered into her ear.
"I'm just so tired. Lemme lean on you a little?"
"Huh, ah...?"
At the same instant, my pubic bone came to rest atop that peach-ripe, perfectly rounded ass—
"Ah, aahh... hey, this... aahh, aahhh..."
and my rigid, throbbing erection slotted snugly into that deep crevice, the two of us fitting together as if we'd been made to—gripped and embraced all at once.