Summer Getaway (27)
"Have some shaved ice, everyone~!!!"
Hanbyul had made three bowls of shaved ice with his own hands, wrapping them up himself, and now he was making his way over. Whether a man walking alone ought to have been more careful didn't seem to cross his mind — he approached with prim, almost ladylike steps, drowning in an oversized shirt, his bottoms so vanishingly short they might as well not have existed. Word of him had already been buzzing from the beach entrance: a married man so dripping with sex appeal the rumors had grown wings.
It didn't take long for that news to reach the two women. Or rather — it didn't take long for the man himself to appear right before their eyes.
"Have some shaved i—!"
He hoisted the bowls in both hands like a mother coming home with fried chicken on payday, about to finish the sentence —
"Huh?! Dad!!!"
"Hanbyul~!"
The voices of the two women bouncing around in the surf like rubber balls cut him off mid-word. The moment they spotted him they abandoned what they were doing and came running.
"Dad, are you crazy? There are other women around and you showed up dressed this slutty?"
"Hanbyul, is Noona being messed with on purpose, or what? You actually think this is okay?"
"Ah… th-that's…"
The vision of him approaching like scattered flower petals melted away on the spot. Smiling faces hardened over a suddenly heavy atmosphere as they closed in. Hanbyul, who had pulled every eye on the beach with that untimely, downright pornographic outfit, found himself seized from either side and frog-marched under the parasol.
"You made them to our tastes?"
"Oh my~ You made shaved ice?"
He had prepared each one exactly the way they liked it — strawberry for Jia, mango for Iseul, red bean for Baek Jiwoo. That alone would have been more than enough to move them…
"But everything's great except."
"Right? Jia's got a point. Everything's great except…"
Something about the picture wasn't sitting right with them. The shaved ice was already starting to melt, and yet their attention remained locked on the flustered man sitting in front of them.
"Dad. Sit comfortably."
"O-okay…"
"I said sit comfortably and you actually get comfortable, huh?"
"Ah…"
And just like that, Hanbyul found himself on his knees before his own daughter, head bowed.
"Where are you looking? Look at me."
The words, the gestures — they were the same ones his wife Jiwoo used every time she dressed him down. Jia must have picked them up over her mother's shoulder, because being scolded by her felt exactly like being scolded by his wife.
"J-Jia…"
Whether the roles had simply fallen into place on their own or not —
"But seriously, where the hell is that little brat."
Baek Jiwoo left Jia winding up for a round of pointed "discipline" and went looking for Iseul. Ever since the girl had fled claiming she couldn't take any more, she hadn't shown so much as a hair.
"Just wait till I catch her…"
This wasn't another family's business to stick her nose into, so she naturally made herself scarce. Unlike Iseul, Mom had enough sense to read a room — which was the only reason she could step away at all.
And for reasons known only to her, today's outfit was especially outrageous. It was similar to yesterday's, but the color had shifted to a deep brown, the top and bottom joined as a single piece. A strap flowed smoothly down over her chest as if it had been poured there, then split front and back at her pubic bone, just barely covering the entrance of her sex and the cleft of her ass. Her plentifully padded backside, her thighs, her breasts — all of it swayed and bounced as she set off in search of her daughter.
And there was a man sneaking glance after glance at the sight.
"Daaaaad!!!!!!"
"Y-yes!! J-Jia…!"
"Dad, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Jia had caught that lingering stare. The thought that she had just lost sent a spike of anger through her. Lately she'd been drinking so much strawberry milk she was convinced her chest had gotten bigger… but in front of her unnie it shrank to nothing, and she couldn't even get a word out. The frustration of it sat in her throat like a stone.
"You really wanna get scolded?"
The way a mother takes a child to task, she caught both of Hanbyul's hands and forced his eyes up to meet hers. Hanbyul looked up at Jia from his knees. When he tried to shift — some half-formed instinct to move under a pressure that wasn't quite restraint —
"Tsk!!!"
"Eek…!"
He was being scolded.
What is this…
The whole atmosphere had flipped so that Dad was the one in trouble. Those eyes — fierce, piercing, the spitting image of his wife Yang Jiwoo's — he had no confidence left to withstand them. Back in high school, whenever those eyes came out during their dating days, he'd shrink into himself without fail. Maybe the reflex had simply been burned into his body…
"And what do you think you're doing right now. This..!"
She shook both arms as if to demand his full attention, and the oversized top flapped with the motion. The shirt was so big and so loose that a flash of reddish-pink nipple showed through without the slightest effort.
"Hnnngh..!! Look at this! Like this! Huh?! Walking around tempting people like this!!! You need to get punished. That's all there is to it."
She grabbed the garment that was already baring his collarbone, yanked it down far enough to expose his arms, and traced a finger around the bud of his nipple.
"Haaahnn!"
Lust gleamed wet in her eyes. She narrowed them to slits, fierce as a cat.
"See? It's a good thing it was me. If it hadn't been…"
He could picture exactly how that sentence ended. Hanbyul swallowed hard and let out a heated breath.
"Haa… hah…"
The stimulation kept coming, her finger sweeping over his areola, and the sheer transgression of doing something like this in secret — right under a parasol, with people all around — sent a dirty, electric thrill rolling up through him. Had she seen him like that? Trembling under the shade, soaked through with her juices…?
"In a way, I'm your savior. I think I deserve a little repayment."
"H-huh? What are you talking about… Jia…?"
"Are you asking because you don't know? Heheh~♡"
She flipped up the tight vermillion fabric that clung to her like a miniskirt, showing him the string of her panties. The thin cord was wedged deep between the lips of her mound, glistening with arousal. A vermillion bikini that made her areolae and nipples stand out in sharp relief — and the accent, a blue string sitting right where it met the valley of her breasts.
"E.ven. now.?"
Jia toyed with her own nipples and flicked her tongue across her lips. Hanbyul understood, slowly and completely, that he had stepped into a predator's trap. He already knew there was no running from this higher being.
And so he closed his eyes, half-pretending he couldn't resist, ready to admit he'd been conquered —
"Papa~!!!"
"This damn brat!!!"
From far off, Iseul came charging in a clattering rush, having given her mother Baek Jiwoo the slip. In that moment Hanbyul felt more relieved than he had all day — and, for some reason he didn't want to examine, a small, traitorous twinge of regret.
"Ugh, that crazy bitch."
Yang Jia felt an untimely, bone-deep rage, as if someone had dumped ash over a perfectly finished meal. The table had been set right in front of her and she hadn't even gotten a taste. She still fell short of her mother, Yang Jiwoo. If it had been Jiwoo, there would have been no hesitation at all — she would have eaten him on the spot under the perfectly legitimate pretext of being husband and wife.
Maybe this is a blessing in disguise…
Iseul came running breathlessly from across the sand. Her firm, smooth thighs trembled with every stride, and her shimmering pure-white hair swung like something out of a commercial.
"Papa~♡"
They gathered in a little cluster on the mat beneath the parasol, ready to share the shaved ice. It had only been a few hours apart, and yet it felt like days — not that anyone had time to linger on the fondness of it.
"Where have you been, showing up now!"
"Gahk!"
She hadn't even managed a single bite before a blow landed on the back of her head, and the shaved ice sprayed in every direction like a shotgun blast.
"What did you do to deserve eating!"
"Ah! Mooom!!!"
It wasn't that she thought it was unfair, exactly… she sort of admitted she'd earned it, and at the same time rebelled at the idea that getting hit was reasonable. Hands planted on her waist, she puffed herself up with theatrical outrage, cheeks blown out round. That sweetly docile, puppy-innocent face, chest thrust forward, swelling up like a blowfish — Hanbyul couldn't find it anything but adorable. Everything Iseul did seemed lovable somehow. Ah — and Jia, of course. Jia too.
"Dad! You were thinking about another woman again!"
Jia picked up on that kind of thing like a ghost.
"This is so annoying…"
Iseul's cuteness, it seemed, did not work on Jia.
Ugh, that damn girl.
Not enough to want her dead. Just enough to put a crease between her brows.
"Papa~! Help meee!!!"
As a last resort, Iseul practically threw herself into Hanbyul's arms.
"Urgh! I-Iseul… e-easy…"
"Papa! Papa! Papa…♡"
"Hey! Get off him right now!!!!"
Jia's shout rang out behind them. Only after a full-blown scuffle did things finally settle, and they started in on the shaved ice at last.
"Heheh… it's so goood…♡"
"Is it good?"
"Yeah! Super delicious, Papa."
Her eyes had swollen up like a pair of chestnuts, but she stuffed her mouth full of mango and beamed at him, bright and clear. Jia, sensing a strange current running between the two of them…
What is this? What are they playing at.
She shoved forward the spoon she'd been devouring with and started the interrogation.
"Dad."
"Yeah, Jia."
The sugar seemed to have put him in a good mood.
"You hiding something?"
"Huh? Hiding what?"
He answered with a face of perfect innocence. Her expression turned ugly enough to make him shrink all over again.
"I said, you hiding something."
"There's really nothing..! Why are you like this, Jia…"
"Then eat this."
She held a mouthful of shaved ice, let it melt, and spat it onto the spoon for him to take.
"J-Jia… even so, this is a bit much…"
"What's too much? Sounds like you've got a guilty conscience."
Iseul sat there mumbling around a spoon, offering nothing. Hanbyul knew perfectly well that no one was coming to help him. He resigned himself to eating it. He parted his lips, careful —
"Mmph..!!!"
She pushed the spoon into his mouth, seized the back of his neck, and drove it in. Careful not to actually hurt him, she pinned his tongue down and thrust roughly, back and forth. It went deep enough to knock against his uvula. His tongue gathered into a natural U-shape and spilled out past his lips —
"Hmph… slurp, sluuurp."
"Mmph? Mmmmph!!!"
And in that state she laid her own tongue over his and tasted him.
"Huh…?"
"…"
He knew the mother and daughter were staring at them with eyes like live coals. Drunk on a swelling sense of superiority, Jia went right on with the heated kiss.