The Fake Counselor Dreams of the Sunny Side (2)

Emergency exit. Of course, by this hour, it was a place with hardly any foot traffic, but it was still undeniably public space. There was always the risk of someone suddenly swinging the door open and barging in.

"Don't wanna? Then come with. Should I call a cab?"

"N-no! Let's go! We can just go! Ugh, this is the absolute worst... We don't have time, so make it quick..."

Sniffling back tears, she grudgingly took the lead.

Screeech—

The sensor light flicked on, revealing the dingy gray stairwell.

We descended about half a flight and settled into a shadowy corner of the landing.

"This good enough...?"

Park Min-jeong shuffled awkwardly in front of me. Dressed in her flashy club outfit, standing there in this grim stairwell—it sent a delicious thrill of taboo deviance crawling up my spine.

"Seriously... just this one time."

Grumbling, she dropped to her knees. Her bare skin hit the cold floor, and she winced slightly.

Clink, ziiiip.

The zipper's rasp echoed unnaturally loud. As she tentatively tugged down my underwear, my cock—already swollen stiff, veins bulging—sprang free.

"Eugh..."

Park Min-jeong recoiled in disgust, head jerking back. The angry beast twitched right in front of her face.

"What're you doing? Show's over?"

"O-okay... Don't rush me..."

She swallowed hard, inching her face closer. Bracing herself for the stench, she squeezed her eyes shut.

But then.

"Huh...?"

Her eyes snapped open wide. Pupils dilating, she buried her nose in again and inhaled deeply.

Sniff, sniiiiff... What's this smell...?

"What? Stinks 'cause I haven't washed?"

"No, not that... I mean..."

Her expression shifted strangely. Not revulsion or disgust.

"It smells like... night-blooming flowers..."

She murmured it.

"It's different from before. It was definitely that fishy, nasty stench... but why's it so intense now..."

She furrowed her brow but licked her lips anyway.

A thick male musk mingled with sweat. Even I knew it should've repulsed her—nothing else made sense.

"Quit yapping. Suck it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠properly."

"No, really... the taste too... slurp, it's so rich..."

"Rich?"

"Yeah, like... super concentrated night-blooming flowers, thick and potent..."

What the hell? Sounds like it reeks even worse.

But Park Min-jeong gripped my thighs with freakish intensity.

"Gotta confirm."

Her red tongue emerged to greet it.

Schlurp, schluuuurp—!

"Ngh, hey."

Her warm, wet mouth enveloped my glans. Her tongue coiled serpent-like around the shaft, probing relentlessly at my slit. This wasn't mere obligation... it felt like she was feasting.

Smack, slurp, schluuurp—!

She hollowed her cheeks, sucking the shaft with ferocious vacuum.

"Hey, Park Min-jeong. Slow down...!"

"Mmph, mmph, shluu... so musky..."

Ignoring me completely, she half-lidded her eyes and slurped like it was candy. Nose buried in my groin, every breath sucked my scent deep into her lungs.

"Haaah... this smell's so potent..."

She pulled off, murmuring dazedly. Saliva glistened on her lips.

"The more I sniff, the dizzier my head gets... I hate it, but it's addictively intoxicating... I can't stop."

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah... must be your mana circuit. Magical girls' scents change too, so yours must be the same, right?"

She crossed her eyes staring at my cock. Her focus was blissfully blurred.

"Spraying such blatant sex stink... how could I not notice?"

"......"

I swallowed a bitter inward smirk.

Never heard of male mages or supporters having special scents. Not from Nebula, not from news articles.

Magical girls exist, but magical boys? Common sense says no.

Only one answer, then.

She's projecting her corruption desire onto me. Obsession with me. It wouldn't always show as insults or violence.

"Mmm... slurp... shluuurp..."

Thanks to that, Park Min-jeong's mouthpussy blowjob grew even more violent. Now she bobbed her head furiously, attempting deepthroat.

Glurk, guh, shluuurb—!

She rammed it down her throat, then vacuum-sucked it out, repeating. Gagging should've hit, but she seemed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to relish the spasm.

Her face looks like a total whore's...

Cheeks hollowed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and all.

"Gack, hack, shluurp... haa, so good..."

"Hey, easy. Teeth are grazing."

"Sorry... but I can't hold back... give it to me quick, more."

"Give what?"

"Your cum... if I swallow it, my mind'll go blank..."

Totally broken. Hard to believe this was the haughty bitch from before.

"Meeting your friends, right? What if your breath reeks?"

"Don't care... I'll gargle..."

Ha. Absurd enough to make me laugh.

"Fine. If you want it that bad."

I seized her hair in a vise grip. Then snapped my hips forward.

"Mmguh?!"

My cock slammed deep into her throat.

"If you want it so bad, swallow every drop."

"Uuuu...!"

Instead of agony, she clutched my thighs tighter. Hair tangled in my fist? She focused solely on taking it.

Shluurb! Shluuurp, shuuuuck—!

Fierce suction. Clenching throat. Writhing tongue.

Orgasm built fast.

"Ngh, here it... cums."

I tensed my core. Held back, held back more—then unleashed straight into Park Min-jeong's mouthpussy.

Blurt! Bloooort! Bluuuuurp!

"Uuuuuph! Mmph!"

Her throat bobbed convulsively. Massive load.

Filling her mouth and overflowing the corners. But she clamped her lips, gulping desperately.

Gulp, guuulp—!

Like nectar of life. The raw swallow echoed through the emergency exit.

"Puhaaa... haa..."

Long moments later, I pulled out.

White foam clung to her lips, but she licked it clean instead of cringing.

Lick, slurp.

"Haa... mmm..."

She slumped to the floor, rubbing her belly in ecstasy.

"So warm... my tummy's all toasty inside..."

"Felt good?"

"Of c-course... n-no, it didn't...!"

Park Min-jeong whipped her head away, snapping back.

"It's gross, nasty, smells awful and sticky... total worst...?"

Her voice lacked any conviction, though.

The girl who just sucked my cock like candy, acting all prim.

I chuckled, pointing at her mouth corner.

"Sure, whatever. Wipe that off first, yeah?"

"Huh? What?"

"Side of your mouth. Pubes stuck."

"Eh?"

She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fumbled for her phone screen as a mirror. There, stark beside her lips: a curly strand mixed in white saliva.

"Eek?!"

She freaked, scrubbing with her hand.

"Ugh, seriously...! Why didn't you say something...!"

"I did."

"Shut up!"

She yanked wet wipes from her bag, furiously cleaning her mouth area.

Makeup smeared a bit, but no time to fix. She reapplied lipstick roughly, straightened her clothes.

Pulling up her short hotpants, fussing with her disheveled crop top—frantic motions.

"Haa..."

After tidying, she sighed deeply. The dazed glaze was gone; back to the prickly, defensive civil servant glare.

"Hey."

"What."

"No more of this crap from now on."

"This crap? Therapy?"

"Therapy my ass! You're just bullying me!"

She bit her lip.

"And... like I said, I don't care what you are. Villain, criminal—stay away from me. I won't report you, so let's pretend we don't know each other. Okay?"

Villain this, villain that. True, but it irked me anyway.

I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"Hey."

"...What now."

"Treating me like trash—let's clear the misunderstanding first."

"Misunderstanding? What? You have a mana circuit, don't you?"

"Yeah. That's true."

I pulled my wallet from inside my jacket. Slid out the certification from its clear slot, thrusting it in her face.

"But I'm no villain. Watch your words."

Park Min-jeong's gaze flicked to the card in my hand. From bored side-eye to saucer-wide shock.

"Th-this... you're saying you're a counselor? No way."

"What's so unbelievable? I told you—I'm treating you."

I shrugged.

"Who practices unlicensed in this day and age? I'm fully trained. Freelance private specialist."

"B-bullshit! What kinda 'treatment' is that?! You have a legit job and still do... that pervy shit to me... argh!"

Not registered in the system yet—online check would bust me—but perfect for offline proof.

"Fake, right? Total fake?"

"Nope. Staying home was for exam prep. That day? You provoked me pointlessly."

"Th-that's...!"

Park Min-jeong alternated stares between the cert and my face, shaking her head.

"Ugh, impossible to reason with! Having a license changes nothing— you're still a total thug."

She shouldered her bag irritably.

"Talking more just hurts my mouth. Move, lemme pass."

She shoved past, clattering down the stairs.

Clack, clack, clack.

Heels faded raucously.

I leaned on the railing, watching her fleeing ass sway away. Somehow...

Cute.

A chuckle escaped. At first, just a hysteria-fueled civil servant drowning in corruption desire. But her reactions? Pure gold.

Acting all haughty and righteous on the outside, while her insides were a slutty mess—that duality scratched my conquest itch perfectly.

Of course, all thanks to her corruption desire.

She spread her legs and sucked me because her brain's warped, hardwired to crave me. Not 'cause I'm charming.

"Still."

Perfect for turning into a cocksleeve.

Time to tail her?

Never planned to honor our deal anyway.

Shwaaaah—! Cold water blasted into the sink.

Park Min-jeong cupped handfuls, scrubbing her mouth furiously.

"Ptoo! Ptoo! Eugh..."

She'd rinsed a dozen times at least. But no amount of gargling erased the lingering sensation.

"Crazy... I'm actually crazy, Park Min-jeong..."

She glared at her reflection.

Wet bangs. Flushed cheeks. Swollen lips.

Anyone could tell she'd just done something.

"Why'd I suck that there... no pride left...?"

But it reeked so bad, her mind blanked...

Ughhh!

Under the park restroom's fluorescent hum, Park Min-jeong shuddered in self-loathing.

Face somewhat fixed, she dug her pouch from her handbag. Retouched smeared lipstick, patted powder over the flush.

"Whew..."

Perfect. Back to prim-and-proper D-grade civil servant magical girl Park Min-jeong.

Go. Girls are waiting.

Forcing a smile, she exited.

Across the park, dingy alley. Meat shop wafted savory smoke and lively chatter.

"Hey! Park Min-jeong! Here, here!"

Someone waved from a back corner table.

"Yeah, coming?"

Park Min-jeong waved casually, approaching. Samgyeopsal sizzled on the grill; a couple soju bottles stood empty.

"Why so late? Nearly burned all the meat ourselves."

A long-haired cat-eyed woman chided, tongs clicking.

Her name: Kim Na-young. Park Min-jeong's old friend, D-grade freelance magical girl.