My Wife's Working Holiday Confessions (1)
As I stepped into the house, I was greeted by Yu-na pacing restlessly in front of the sofa. The moment she spotted me, she jumped in surprise and froze. Her face was a mask of embarrassment and anxiety, like a criminal caught red-handed. Seeing her like that only made my heart sink colder.
"H-Honey... are you okay...? D-Do you feel... sick anywhere?" she stammered, her voice trembling faintly.
I let out a deep sigh. I didn't need a mirror to know how wrecked my expression was.
"Y-Yeah... just... whatever..." I mumbled vaguely, brushing past her toward the bedroom. I didn't have the confidence to face her right now. I needed a little more time—just a little—to steel myself. All I wanted was to collapse into bed and forget everything.
"I... I just want to rest."
I was reaching for the doorknob when a warm presence pressed against my back. She'd come up behind me and wrapped her arms around me tightly. Her full breasts pressed firmly against my back, and her familiar, comforting scent brushed my nose. But instead of the usual peace it brought, my breath caught in my throat.
"Honey."
Her voice echoed softly from behind me, laced not with her usual gentleness but with a resolute edge.
"Be honest with me... please... This awkwardness between us is killing me. I don't know what's wrong, but seeing you suffer hurts me more than anything."
She tightened her arms around my waist.
"I'll tell you everything... everything. So... ask me whatever you want. I won't hide a thing. I promise."
Her words stopped me cold. Everything? Really? Did she have any idea what I was dying to know?
I sighed deeply again. I felt her shoulders twitch slightly.
Maybe this was my chance. She'd brought it up first. No more running. Now that I knew, we'd have to tie up this knot eventually.
I steeled myself, gently pried her arms away, and turned to face her. Her eyes were already brimming with tears. Staring straight into those trembling eyes, I opened my mouth carefully. I worried my voice would crack, but it came out surprisingly steady.
"Your... past."
Her pupils shook violently. Her face drained of color, like her heart had plummeted.
She swallowed hard.
"Specifically... your working holiday days. I want to hear about that."
The air in the living room froze. All color fled her face. She just stared at me, on the verge of bursting into tears, speechless.
I swallowed dryly, waiting for her reaction. But as if she'd half-expected it, she let out a weak sigh and nodded.
"Okay... I'll tell you everything about my working holiday..."
And so began the story of her early twenties—one I'd never heard before.
Her tale started more ordinarily than I'd imagined. Tough family finances, dropping out of college to earn tuition money, impulsively heading to America. But reality was brutal. With no real English skills or special talents, all she could do was menial jobs like restaurant serving or cleaning. The pay was meager, nowhere near enough for the killer rent. In the end, to save on costs, she moved into a sharehouse with several others.
That house was where it all began.
It was full of young people from various countries, all with their own baggage, who'd come to America. They started off awkward, but bonded quickly over shared struggles. The problem? They were total party animals.
Every night was a bash—booze, music, all-nighters. The open vibe, incomparable to Korea, where bodies mingled without shame, was a massive shock to her conservative upbringing—and a thrilling temptation.
At first, she just watched. But soon, she started soaking it in. Sipping drinks turned into chugging bottles; she even tried cigarettes handed to her without thinking.
And then... drugs.
Weed and light stuff were casual for them. She resisted at first, but constant temptation and fear of being left out won. She gave in.
And in that moment, something dormant inside her awoke.
The drug high was a pleasure she'd never known. Reason numbed, instincts reigned. Shame and morals vanished, leaving only cravings for stronger thrills, bigger highs.
She became essential to the parties. The innocent-looking Eastern girl with a glamorous body was a huge hit with the guys. She stopped avoiding their stares—instead, she reveled in them.
Surrounded by men, feeling their touches, basking in their advances. She instinctively knew how to wield her feminine weapons.
And sex. To them, it was as natural as breathing.
She started sleeping around with a few guys in rotation. But it wasn't enough. She craved more—more men, kinkier play. She realized she was more of a pervert than she'd dreamed, her thirst for pleasure bottomless.
No longer passive, she seduced them first, demanding twisted acts, leading the charge.
That's when she met Miles.
He was the group's kingpin. Everyone followed and feared him. His massive build and overwhelming charisma looked kingly to her, already hooked on pleasure.
She fell hard. She yearned to be chosen, to be his woman. She'd do anything to please him—even humiliating, degrading demands.
And the videos. His idea.
She hesitated at first, but for one more fuck with him, she didn't care. He filmed her lewd acts and sold them online.
Hesitant initially, but before the camera, she felt liberated again. Knowing strangers lusted after her body brought unspeakable taboo thrill and excitement.
The money was great too. Better than slaving all day at a restaurant—just a few hours selling her body earned more.
That's how she spent five years in America—drenched in pleasure, drugs, and sex, abandoning her humanity.
"...Then... one day, I snapped out of it."
Tears streamed down her face as she continued. Her reflection in the mirror looked so alien and horrific; terror hit that she'd shatter completely if she kept going. So she ditched everything and fled back to Korea.
And... met me.
With me, she learned normal happiness, wanted to bury the past and start anew.
Haa...
I stayed silent the whole time. Couldn't speak. My mind went blank white.
Listening to her tearful confession, I had no clue what to say. I'd braced myself, but the gut-wrench still hit hard.
"A-And, of course, now it's only you, honey. Really...! I've never cheated, never even thought about it..."
At least hearing the past was past and now it's just me was some small relief...
Her confession echoing, I stared blankly at a spot on the floor. My head was a mess. Or rather, empty. Rage, sorrow, betrayal, disgust—all crashed in, then vanished like a lie.
In that void, one question clawed relentlessly.
I slowly lifted my head, meeting her tear-streaked face. In an icy voice, I asked,
"That Miles or whatever guy."
Her shoulders flinched at my tone.
"Was his dick... that good?"
I couldn't believe those vulgar, razor-sharp words came from me. Her face went sheet-white. She waved her hands frantically, desperately defending herself.
"N-No! Honey, it's not like that... I was so young and stupid back then... high on drugs too..."
"Be honest, sis."
I cut her off, raising my voice. Something inside me snapped.
"I asked if it felt that good!"
"I-It... well... um... Y-Yes..."
Overpowered by my intensity, she whispered like a mosquito.
That tiny affirmation snapped my last thread of reason.
I bolted up without thinking and lunged at her. She toppled onto the sofa without a scream. I straddled her, pinning her shoulders with both hands.
"Eek...!"
Her eyes widened in terror. Tears soaked her cheeks nonstop.
But I couldn't stop. I screamed in her ear,
"How good was it?! Huh?! Better than me?! That black monster cock better than mine?!"
I'd lost it, roaring. It wasn't a question—it was confirmation. A sick desire to hear my pathetic helplessness from her lips.
"Answer honestly!! Now!!"
"H-Hic... sob..."
Terrified and sobbing, she couldn't look away. Resigned, she parted her trembling lips and whispered the cruelest truth.
"...Yes..."
"..."
"Better... than you... so much better..."
The words seared into my brain.
"Ahh...!"
A weird groan escaped my throat unbidden. Goosebumps erupted; electric shivers raced down my spine.
My heart, ready to burst from rage and shame, pounded with sweet pleasure instead. My body trembled faintly, against my will.
It was anger—and something else.
"H-Honey...?"
Her eyes widened further in shock. She stopped crying, staring incredulously at my face and quivering body.
Her lips began to tremble.