The Stepmother's Burning Thirst
Stepmother Han Taeyang. The eldest son of her husband, and to her, a son in name. Yet despite living under the same roof in this mother-son relationship, she had barely any direct contact with him until recently. Han Taeyang was always out wandering the streets, his whereabouts unknown. The occasional news that reached her was nothing but tales of his misdeeds—brawls with street thugs, squandering fortunes at gambling dens, or causing scenes at gisaeng houses. Because of this wastrel behavior from the family's sole heir, her husband, Lord Han Sook-beon, had been deeply troubled in many ways. Naturally, this left Lee So-young with a thoroughly poor impression of him.
But a few weeks ago, starting from the point when the lord fell gravely ill, the Han Taeyang she truly faced was utterly different from what she'd imagined. A refined demeanor, striking good looks. A composed yet dignified bearing that defied the rumors. And then... the muscular body she'd glimpsed by chance. He looked like an ideal scholar straight out of a storybook, stirring a quiet fondness in Lee So-young's heart.
Of course, she placed no special significance on that budding affection. Or rather... she tried not to. However, that tiny seed of fondness toward Han Taeyang took root and sprouted in an instant, starting from when he'd saved her from Dolsoe not long ago. It blossomed beyond mere liking... into what one might call romantic yearning. And in this moment...
"Haa... haa... Taeyang... Taeyang... ah..."
That yearning, grown to terrifying speed, now tormented her—Lee So-young, one mere woman—with excruciating agony.
*
"N-No... this isn't... enough..."
Her fingers, slick with arousal. Clutching them tightly, Lee So-young murmured in a small voice. Satisfaction eluded her grasp. Meanwhile, a thought grew ever clearer with time: the image of one man she couldn't forget, no matter how she tried. The very man who had saved her from violation.
Back then, during the incident, confusion and fear had overwhelmed her. The pure terror of nearly being ravaged like a tool by that filthy, hideous monster. Though she'd felt a strange thrill amid it, it paled against the vivid horror.
But in the final moment, the sight of that man who saved her swept away the fear in an instant—and ignited the emotions she'd long ignored and suppressed.
"Haa... haa... haa..."
Recalling his image, Lee So-young began moving her fingers again. Her clit, swollen enough to grasp; her folds, squelching and gushing fluids. She stirred roughly inside, desperate to quell this lust somehow. But the thirst refused to fade. No, it was like drinking seawater to slake thirst—the desire tormenting her only swelled larger.
Not enough... this isn't... I can't... solve it alone...
A horrific craving that even brought despair. Amid the pain it wrought, Lee So-young exhaled ragged, sticky breaths.
Once, she'd despised and mocked wanton women. Failing to guard one's chastity, consorting with strange men—it was nothing but foolish depravity she couldn't comprehend. But now, she felt it viscerally: for a woman, upholding chastity... suppressing yearning for another man... was an impossibly grueling task.
And in this torment, a vivid temptation bloomed in her heart... a craving for some way to soothe the pain.
He called me... by name... not Mother... Lady So-young...
Those words, and his offer: ask for anything if she needed help. That boy... no, that man. It seemed too intimate for mere filial kindness. And though they were in a mother-son bond, their age gap wasn't so vast. Perhaps... if she asked now, he truly could quench her thirst...
A-Ah... no... no! What am I... thinking? Even so, as a mother... how could I ever... how could I ask that...
Just imagining it was utterly terrifying. No blood tied them, true—but how could a mother make such a plea to her son?
Shaking off the filthy thought with effort, she hastily wiped her sticky fingers.
Get a grip... I'm the lady of this house... With my husband ill, I can't afford to waver further...
Steeling herself, Lee So-young set the cloth aside. As she wiped away the filth and slowly lifted her fingers, a thin, stringy thread of fluid stretched from the tips.
*
There she sat before me in pristine white mourning garb: Lee So-young. A subtle eroticism emanated from her nightclothes-like attire, but I kept my voice as calm as possible.
"What brings you here, Mother?"
"First... forgive me for summoning you so late. But I wished to speak with you alone, as quietly as possible."
"I see. Go ahead."
"..."
I replied with a touch of anticipation. In response, "Mother" hesitated, holding back her words. She averted her gaze, her expression oddly anxious. That air of broaching something difficult stoked the emotions simmering in my heart ever hotter.
And then.
"There's something you must do. Normally, I'd speak to your father... but with him bedridden, you're the only one I can ask."
Her face flushed faintly as she spoke. My heart pounded faster at her evident reluctance to voice a tough request.
"It's fine. Didn't I say before? Whenever you need help, anything at all—tell this one."
"...Very well, then..."
With that, she cautiously slipped her hand into her robes. Expecting the unfolding I'd hoped for, a hard-to-hide smile crept onto my lips.
But then—
Plop.
...?
Contrary to my hopes, a single document emerged from her bosom. Stunned, I blinked dumbly at it. Toward me, "Mother" spoke in a newly solemn tone.
"It's a record of household matters, large and small. I've handled the trifles, but the major ones seem to need prior approval from you, the eldest son."
"...Ah... yes..."
Her words deflated me slightly as I checked the document. As described, purely administrative items the father hadn't managed from his sickbed—essential for running the house, but from my view, a letdown in this moment. Still, per her request, I pulled out my ever-present seal and stamped it.
"Thank you. Some are sensitive, so it's hard to handle without a time like this."
"Just doing what's needed. Think nothing of it."
Unlike when she'd entered, "Mother" now spoke in calm, earnest tones, clinging to reason. Watching her restrain herself, I couldn't help a twinge of regret.
I'd hoped for a bolder approach... Though expecting that from a Joseon-era woman might be asking too much.
Truth be told, I'd anticipated her arriving more disheveled. Embracing me outright, or at least loosening her robes to tempt me subtly. But the current mood suggested such hopes were premature. Showing this much composure alone with me meant she still clung to her maternal role.
She pleasures herself wildly alone at night, half-sunk in pleasure's mire... nearly forced that night too. Yet here she is, the picture of unshakeable purity.
Or at least, that's how she appeared. Clearly, she hadn't yet decided to cross the line.
But as I observed her rigid facade...
I noticed it. Her hands, trembling faintly even now. And above all, her face—flushed red in the lantern light.
Subtle signs I'd recognize from my past life as a MILF hunter, having bedded countless women. Regardless of her mind's resolve, her body betrayed her honestly.
Reading it coolly, I handed back the sorted document and spoke to her in a gentle voice.
"Mother. What should be done with that brute... Dolsoe?"
"! Dolsoe... you say?"
"Yes. He dared try to violate your beautiful body. I've had his tongue pulled to prevent loose rumors, but wouldn't it be cleaner to dispose of him for good?"
"Do... as you see fit."
Her voice quivered slightly despite the detached tone. Noting it, I smirked inwardly.
And then.
"By the way, Mother... if I may be so bold, might this one ask one thing?"
"What... is it."
A chill laced my words. Toward her, now showing a hint of tremor...
"Since when have you been at it? Bringing in strange men for your illicit trysts."
"!"
As a MILF hunter, I drew my blade in earnest.