The Husband's Call and the Master's Shower
The shower cuts off, but the phone that had rung earlier blares sharply once more. The screen still displays 'My Love Honey'. Seoyeon recoils in horror and shoves at Director Park's shoulders, which had been thrusting fiercely.
"Please... please stop... we'll get caught! Huh? Pull out! I'll do anything you say! No, you don't even have to pull out... just... please don't move..."
She begs through tears. Director Park smirks, then finally stills his hips. But he doesn't pull out of her. Staring at the relentlessly ringing phone, he speaks in an exceedingly gentle voice.
"Then... tell your husband you can't come home tonight."
"Pardon...?"
"Say you're staying out all night playing with friends. An overnight."
Seoyeon tries to refuse, but the phone's ring pierces her heart like a blade. She finally nods and picks up the trembling phone with shaking hands.
"Hello...?"
"Babe! Why'd you just hang up? What's going on?!"
Cheolsu's voice brims with worry and irritation.
"Ah... sorry, honey. It's just... actually... I was venting to my friend about our fight... and when your call came in, tears just burst out of nowhere... I didn't mean to..."
Seoyeon desperately spins a plausible lie.
"So... my friend said she'd cheer me up, let's go unwind, and booked a hotel for a staycation. It'd be awkward to go home now that my husband's calling me back... Sorry, honey. I'll come home tomorrow after just one night out."
Silence flows from the receiver. Cheolsu feels a surge of suspicion—his wife, who never went out at night, now coming home late on "promises" and even staying out. But... doubting his wife is wrong. He must trust her. He steels himself, sighs, and replies.
"...Okay. Still, don't stay up too late. Have fun. Love you~"
"Yeah, I lo—"
Right as Seoyeon starts to say she loves him too, Director Park glares at her with jealous fire in his eyes and slams his hips upward fiercely.
"Hngh!"
The thick, massive sensation piercing her deepest core swallows her words; Seoyeon chokes on her breath.
"What's wrong? Babe?"
Cheolsu's suspicious voice echoes from the phone.
"Nothing...! Hanging up!"
Unable to even say she loves him, Seoyeon frantically ends the call.
The moment the phone cuts off, Seoyeon gasps for the breath she'd held. Her whole body drips with cold sweat. Director Park snatches the phone from her hand, tosses it onto the bedside table, and—as if nothing happened—resumes his halted thrusts, agonizingly slow. His movements remain tender, like caressing a precious lover. But the voice spilling from his lips contrasts sharply, whispering like a devil into her ear.
"Shh... it's okay. Now it's just us. Feel it all you want."
He licks her earlobe softly, mocking her.
Each time his cock moves slowly inside her, her inner walls twitch and clench around him.
"You lie so well, my Seoyeon. Your friend consoling you... but the one comforting you right now isn't your friend—it's me. Right?"
Seoyeon squeezes her eyes shut in shame and guilt. His gentle hipwork continues. The sensations of him filling her, withdrawing slowly, plunging deep again—all remind her endlessly of the betrayal she just committed.
"See? Your body can't lie. Soaking this hot... you like me that much?"
He gently wipes her tear-streaked cheek with the back of his hand and continues. Each time his hard pubic bone grinds her clit, her waist arches like a bow without her control.
"Your husband probably thinks you're in your friend's arms getting comforted right now. He has no idea you're under another man, getting those husband-made wounds soothed."
"Hic... no..."
Seoyeon barely denies it, but her body contradicts her words, twisting her hips to match his slow rhythm. Director Park savors her reactions, burrowing deeper into her mind.
"Moan out loud. It's fine. I want to hear how good it feels in your own voice."
"So pretty... and only I get to see it. What a shame."
He thrusts into her depths, driving the final wedge into her ear.
"Say it, Seoyeon. Who feels better right now? That pathetic husband who trusts you, or me—the one making you cry like this?"
At his words, fresh tears spill from Seoyeon's eyes. But they aren't tears of resistance. They're the tears of a bitch surrendering everything. Satisfied with her response, Director Park begins ravishing her again, slow and gentle. Seoyeon no longer answers his questions. She merely shakes like a broken doll amid the waves of pleasure he gives.
Director Park smiles softly at her, then whispers tenderly into her ear once more.
"From today, don't tell your husband you love him. You're mine."
Seoyeon, lost in ecstasy, doesn't even register if she hears him—she just emits pleasure's sounds. The words mean nothing anyway. When alone with her husband, whether she says "I love you" or not—Director Park has no way to check. It's just his childish possessiveness, craving confirmation he owns even her mind.
A few more minutes pass as he softly violates her depths. Climax surges; he stops, panting roughly.
"Ha... gonna cum. Seoyeon... inside's okay, right?"
Her hazy pleasure-mind snaps alert.
"Ah, no! Please... not inside...!"
She whimpers and begs. Director Park smacks his lips regretfully.
"I already came inside the day before yesterday anyway... why act all new about it? Fine, fine."
Surprisingly compliant, he pulls out just before release. He pours every drop of his hot, thick semen onto her pristine white lower belly. Director Park grabs tissues from nearby, tenderly wiping his traces from her stomach. He kisses her sweat-damp forehead softly, then lies beside her exhausted form.
They lie in bed wordlessly for a long while, hearing only each other's ragged breaths. Seoyeon nears collapse; Director Park seems steeped in satisfied fatigue.
Moments later, he rises first.
"Seoyeon, you're covered in sweat. Come here—let's shower together. I'll wash you."
His voice drips with affection, like speaking to a true lover. Seoyeon lacks even the energy to reply. Like a doll, she lets him lead her by the hand into the spacious bathroom adjoining the bedroom. Black marble floors and walls scream luxury. He guides her into the massive glass shower booth and turns on the warm water.
Warm streams cascade over her weary body. Seoyeon stands with eyes closed, simply taking it. Director Park hugs her gently from behind and begins washing her with exquisite care. He first scoops shampoo into his palm, lets her smell its scent, then lathers her long hair. His large, rough fingers massage her scalp with astonishing gentleness—from crown to nape, kneading every knot meticulously.
Seoyeon feels tension drain from her body under his delicate touch. He rinses her hair thoroughly, then loads body wash onto a soft sponge, creating rich foam. His hands glide from her nape and shoulders down her spine. He traces the red marks etched across her body—like admiring his artwork—gently brushing them with the foamy sponge.
When washing her full breasts, he circles the nipples devotedly. He massages her slim waistline, then her lower belly softly. His touch descends further, caressing the tenderest flesh of her inner thighs. Finally, he kneels before her. Setting the sponge aside, he foams his bare hands and cleans her most intimate place—still bearing last night's traces—with utmost devotion.
His fingers part her labia gently, scrubbing every fold meticulously. He caresses her clit with caution, lest it hurt. Amid this humiliating pose and his bizarre tenderness, Seoyeon thinks nothing.
After washing her completely, Director Park hands her the sponge.
"Now... your turn to wash me, Seoyeon."
His voice remains affectionate. He turns his back, entrusting his body to her. Seoyeon hesitates briefly, then lathers the sponge and scrubs his broad back. Emotionlessly, like a robot on task, she cleans his back, shoulders, and arms. When he turns, she does his chest and belly. As her hands drift lower, he murmurs lowly.
"There too... clean it thoroughly. Real good."
Seoyeon pauses. But soon, she grips his flaccid cock and sponges it meticulously—like polishing an object—stem and balls alike, devoid of feeling.
Yet with each touch, it responds. The limp flesh warms, swells, hardens. The vivid change through the sponge halts her hands momentarily, but he watches silently.
Finally, it regains its former savage glory, erect ferociously in her grasp. Director Park overlays his hand on hers gripping him, gently pulls her up, and draws her body flush against his. No space remains between their naked forms.
"Hngh..."
A stifled moan escapes Seoyeon. Foam-slick skin sliding together feels alien, intensely arousing. Director Park embraces her tightly and begins rubbing their bodies slowly. Her ample breasts squash against his flabby chest amid the suds. Each motion scrapes her nipples across his skin, sparking jolts. His rough, hard thighs glide between her smooth inner ones.
Above all, what drives Seoyeon mad is the sensation on her lower belly. Soap-slick, his rigid hot cock slides across her abdomen, pubic bone, and between her thighs. Each pelvic shift lets the glans teasingly graze her most sensitive spot. Her face flushes crimson; her legs weaken, forcing her to lean on him.
"How's that... rubbing skin-to-skin different?"
He breathes hot into her ear.
"So slippery... can't tell where anything is? Feels like your whole body's melting."
For long minutes, he grinds against her like dancing. Under the pouring water, their foam-, sweat-, and fluid-mingled bodies merge indistinguishably. In this strange new pleasure, Seoyeon slowly loses her will to resist.
Director Park groans in satisfaction, cranks the shower hotter. Scalding water envelops them, rinsing the sticky suds clean. He rinses every inch of her with his hands. As all foam vanishes, revealing their pristine nakedness, his body burns with renewed lust. Panting excitedly, he spins her around and shoves her against the shower booth's cold glass corner.
"Hngh...!"
Her back hits the chill glass; a startled moan bursts out. Undeterred, he turns her again—now chest and belly to the glass—and bends her waist, hiking her ass toward him. Standing doggy style.
Seoyeon braces her upper body on the cold glass. Her full breasts flatten transparently against it, obscenely displaying crushed tits and pink nipples. Behind, Director Park aligns his massive cock with her wet entrance and thrusts root-deep in one go.
"Haa...!"
Even the roaring water can't fully mask her sharp cry. He pistons immediately. Slap, slap—wet flesh colliding echoes lewdly in the tight booth.
Seoyeon turns her head, glimpsing her reflection in the steamed glass: crushed breasts and Director Park thrusting like a beast behind. Shame seals her eyes shut, but her body reacts fiercer.
Director Park grips her waist with both hands, slamming upward savagely. Each deep stab shoves her forward into the glass. They fuck intensely once more. When finished, he washes his lingering traces from her body as if nothing happened and exits the booth. Seoyeon remains alone in the empty shower, standing under the hot streams for a long while.