Department Store (2) — Mother and Daughter (Yuri...?)

"Wow..."

"Holy shit."

"Is she a celebrity..?"

A woman strode through the department store, pure-white hair swaying as it spilled past her shoulders, sleek legs stretching long and clean beneath a miniskirt. Every gaze in the building snapped to her at once. Her name was Baek Iseul.

People throughout the department store — men and women, young and old — faltered in their steps or let out murmurs of admiration at the sight of her. Iseul walked on serenely, a warm smile resting on that innocent face, generating an untouchable atmosphere from the mere act of walking.

There's an old saying, isn't there? A swan gliding across a lake may look infinitely graceful — but beneath the water, its feet are paddling harder than anyone's.

That was exactly Iseul's situation right now.

Fasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfasterfaster.

Her mind was more frantic and chaotic than anyone's in the building. And for good reason — ever since becoming an adult, every last hunting trip she had signed up for had ended in failure. This summer getaway, she was staking her life on the hunt. She was going to get a boyfriend. That burning desire was going to become reality.

This time I'm really... I'm definitely going to succeed..!!!

She had every reason for that desperation to have settled into her bones.

And now more than half of her twentieth year had already slipped by, and she still hadn't so much as held a guy's hand, let alone gotten a boyfriend.

Mom is seriously...

A petty surge of resentment toward her mother welled up for no good reason. Objectively speaking, she knew her mom was beautiful. And she knew perfectly well that she herself, having inherited that same face lock, stock, and barrel, had looks that wouldn't lose to anyone anywhere. If anything, that unusual hair color had earned her more attention, not less.

But the really bizarre thing was...

WHY!!! Why can't I get a boyfriend?!

"Seriously, what's the problem! What iiiis it!!!"

Iseul raked her fingers through her hair, turning over the life she had lived so far — and the moment she stepped into the department store, she arrived at the destination she had been aiming for from the start.

A clothing shop built of wooden planks, as if you had just stepped off a plane in Hawaii. Palm trees, fishing nets, a bartender, a whole beach-theme treatment — everything arranged to conjure a seaside atmosphere.

To explain more precisely why Iseul had come here...

A male-to-female ratio of one to nine. In this age of hopeless numbers, women's methods of courting the opposite sex had diversified — but the essence hadn't drifted far. The core of courtship was still physical appearance. To make someone fall at first sight, or at least take an interest, the most important things were the face and the body. That was only natural. People preferred what was handsome and beautiful.

Most people put far more effort into cultivating their bodies than their faces, which were decided at birth — because unlike a face, a body could be earned through effort after the fact, and more often than not, that was where the decision got made. Of course, you could get arrested for sexual harassment if you weren't careful, so under ordinary circumstances you couldn't even attempt it.

But there was one season that came just once a year. Summer. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the one government-sanctioned, fully legal season when putting your body on display wasn't a major problem. That was why women staked their lives on sculpting themselves for the summer season, determined to put every last attractive feature on display.

"They said this summer trip is at the beach."

It would be packed with people, so she had resolved to pick out the flashiest, most beautiful swimsuit she could find — even one that showed off her private parts, if that was what it took — and that was why she had come to Summer Trip.

"Whoa... damn."

Naturally, the vast majority of customers here were women. Everyone around her was a competitor, and they were all taking this deadly seriously as they browsed the racks.

"It's not like I'd lose to anyone either..."

Iseul wasn't wrong — her slender-yet-curvy figure won plenty of admiration and envy. But like Yang Jiwoo, Hanbyul's wife, she had a complex about her chest, so this reaction was inevitable. Every last pair of breasts around her was bigger than hers.

"Haa..."

On top of that, she had inverted nipples, so she couldn't just casually strip down the way the woman in front of her was doing — picking through clothes with her top already off. The more she browsed and the more she looked at the others, the further her confidence sank, and she kept manufacturing rationalizations for why she couldn't get a boyfriend.

"Yeah. That's it..."

Her chest.

"It's because my chest is small. That's why I can't get one..."

She picked up a navy rash guard in one hand and trudged toward the fitting rooms, her shoulders slumped. Even though there were ten stalls, the crowd was so thick she had to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wait in line. After a long stretch of standing around, she finally got into what looked like the line she needed and settled in to wait her turn.

With vacant eyes she glanced around — and spotted a woman waiting in front of a fitting room, wearing a straw hat even though they were indoors. She had already changed several times, apparently, and was waiting in a black string bikini, her voluptuous figure on full, unapologetic display.

Iseul could only see her from behind, so she couldn't tell what the face looked like... but among everyone she had seen in the store so far, this woman was in a league of her own. An ass so plump and lusciously gleaming she wanted to run over and smack it wildly with her palm right then and there, and honey-thick thighs that looked even smoother where the light caught them. Then those wide hips that looked built for bearing children, flowing into a waist that traced a smooth hourglass curve like a cola bottle. And the finishing touch: her breasts were so enormous that the sides and undersides spilled freely into view.

Overall, the flesh clung to her in an incredibly lewd way. To put it without a filter — she had the body of a brood sow. It was the kind of body that would stir up lust even in another woman. On top of that, it was a string bikini that barely covered the boundary between thigh and ass... it didn't even fully cover her pussy or her asshole, leaving her labial folds blatantly visible.

"Wow..."

A moment later the fitting-room door she had been waiting on opened, and that brood sow built for bearing children started to step inside.

"Huh...?"

That profile... looked really familiar...?

"Uh.. Mom?"

"Iseul, you came to buy a swimsuit too?"

"Uh.. yeah.."

Jiwoo had spotted Iseul just before entering the stall, so now both mother and daughter were squeezed into that tiny space together.

"It's cramped in here... want to change first and come out? Mom can wait outside?"

It was so narrow that Jiwoo started to leave for Iseul's convenience.

"Don't leave. Stay with me."

Iseul caught her. But there was a sulkiness to it — the reply came out stiff and hard. Baek Jiwoo, the girl's own mother, who knew Iseul better than anyone because she had given birth to her from her own womb.

"What's wrong this time, sweetie? Heheh~"

Even as Jiwoo teased her with a playful sidelong glance and a smile, Iseul was thoroughly pissed off. The problem, if you could call it one, was that Jiwoo had no idea she herself was the reason her daughter was angry...

"God, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this is so unfair."

Slap.

Iseul raised her hand and smacked her mother's thick, meaty ass. She hit it so hard that not only was the sound loud — a bright-red handprint bloomed across the right cheek.

"Khhhnngh!!! Y-you.. what do you think you're doing..!"

Her body was already burning from Hanbyul's cock on the bus, so her daughter's slap sent love juices spilling out of her.

"Mom, I finally figured out why I can't get a boyfriend..."

Her daughter blamed her with something like resentment in her voice.

"It's all your fault."

The moment Jiwoo felt nothing but confusion at her daughter's incoherent accusations—

"You took it all!!!"

Iseul piled onto her from behind, slid her hands under her mother's underboob, and yanked upward. The bikini rode up naturally with her hands. At the same time, they grazed over nipples that were already standing stiff.

"Hnnnngh..!"

The breasts bounced from the elasticity and sagged into teardrop shapes. The brown-flecked areolae and nipples laid bare the seductive figure of a married woman in full.

"I-Iseul! What are you doing to your mooom!!!"

"It's your fault, so just shut up!"

Iseul all but screamed it, on the verge of tears, and as if taking out her anger she grabbed those vulgarly sagging underboobs hard enough to burst them and hoisted them up.

"Hweeeeh...!!!"

The sudden stimulation made Jiwoo's eyes glaze over and her mouth fall open. And into that open mouth, Iseul pushed her own nipple.

"Khhnnnph..."

Jiwoo tried to resist after that brief climax — but instead she ended up in a position of sucking on her own daughter's breast.

"This chest... I hate these milk tanks the most."

With genuine malice, Iseul twisted and squeezed them like she was wrecking a lump of clay, shoving the already-latched breast even deeper into her mother's mouth.

"Does it taste good? You like it that much?"

"Nnnnph... Iseuuh.. Mom's... sorryyy..."

Still not done being angry, Baek Iseul flung aside the bikini hooked on her fingers, grabbed her mother's hips, and yanked the panties down. They were so thick and meaty they only made it about halfway down her thighs. Even then, that ass was still swaying with vulgar invitation, like it was trying to seduce a man — and Iseul found it extremely unpleasant to look at.

Smack! Smack! Smack!!!

"Hnnnngh!!!! Hwoooook!!!"

She whipped the ass three times in a row like a lash. Nostrils flaring, Jiwoo — still latched onto Iseul's breast — bellowed like a cow. The other breast, hanging free and unsuckled, bounced with particular violence... reducing Baek Jiwoo to a bitch in heat.

"Haa.. haa.. haaaahk..♡"

Unable to form a coherent thought thanks to her daughter Iseul's rampage, Jiwoo trembled with pleasure. Her two arms barely kept her from collapsing. Leaning forward against the wall, her milk-heavy udders swung and sagged like a dairy cow's, and that once-beautiful snow-white hair was splayed every which way like a whore's.

"You're really the worst, Mom."

Little by little, Iseul shoved her mother toward the wall, pressing her own ass against Jiwoo's pussy and pushing in. The flesh of that ass touched Iseul's crotch. The contact point spread thick and wide, making the ass look even more prominent and enormous.

"You— you— until the very end, seriously!!!"

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

She alternated both hands now, spanking that brood sow's lewd ass.

"Hwah! Hwaahk! Hwoo.. hwooook! Hwoooooook!!!"

Every time her daughter's hand landed, the entire mass of flesh rippled like a wave. Her breasts swung vulgarly back and forth, out of sync with each other, and the impact from her ass sent her thigh-flesh quivering. She hadn't climaxed, but so much love juice had already poured out that Jiwoo's thighs and calves had long since been soaked in it.

"You're really the worst!!!"

Still not satisfied, she finally burst into tears. The inadequacy she had felt from comparing herself to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠others had become a complex that had tormented Iseul all this time. Graduating high school with no clear plans had only thrown her heart into further chaos.

Whether it was through the tears, or through those sobbing complaints... Jiwoo understood her daughter's pain. On trembling legs that could barely hold her up, she turned around and pulled Iseul into her arms. Her two breasts crushed against Iseul's chest, and their sweat-slicked bodies clung stickily together, but she didn't care in the slightest.

"My baby... you've had it so hard all this time..."

"Hic.. hic.. waaaaaah..."

And so, inside that fitting room, the two of them — mother and daughter — came to understand each other a little more, today as well.