Unleashing the First Desire, Part 1
We spent a peaceful time together, as if shaking off the days of misfortune and brushing away the creeping anxiety.
In a high-end Western restaurant with a wonderful atmosphere, we enjoyed delicious food and sipped sweet wine.
We didn't force ourselves to maintain an unnaturally high energy. Instead, we talked calmly and quietly, just as we had before she developed narcolepsy, building new memories together.
As if trying to reclaim what we had lost, we talked endlessly in soft, low voices. Our throats grew dry, and the alcohol naturally flowed more freely.
"Shall we get going soon?"
For some reason, the alcohol was hitting me hard.
I didn't drink often, but I wasn't a lightweight either.
But tonight was different.
I had felt something off halfway through, but I endured the rising intoxication to prolong this happy moment with my wife. Now, I was reaching my limit.
Was it because of the organ transplant?
Since the absurd phenomenon of Jang Mansu waking up inside my body had already occurred, a change in my alcohol tolerance felt like a perfectly plausible side effect.
My wife, perhaps carrying a mountain of unspoken resentment and exhaustion, had long since exceeded her limit. She looked thoroughly drunk.
We left the restaurant and took a taxi to the hotel we had booked.
"Oppa..."
I looked down at my wife, who was using my lap as a pillow.
Her full breasts rose and fell with every breath, and her hair, tied together and draped over her shoulder, swayed gently against her chest.
I stared blankly at the tips of her hair, which swayed as if trying to seduce or hypnotize me, and stroked them out of habit.
Her hair, smooth without a single split end, possessed an addictive quality that made me want to touch it forever.
"..."
The old me would have been satisfied with the soft texture of her hair, but not anymore.
My entire focus shifted to the soft, warm weight of her breast pressing against my fingers.
My fingertips, still playing with her hair, twitched with the sudden, violent urge to squeeze that flesh with all my might.
While reason and instinct waged war inside me, the taxi arrived at the hotel.
Is it because I rested for a bit? I feel a little dizzy...
Perhaps because I had relaxed during the ride, a wave of dizziness hit me, nearly causing me to trip over my own feet.
"Hye-Hyeonju. Can you... mm... stand up?"
We usually had different tolerances, so a mishap like this had never happened before. But with my tolerance altered by the transplant, I could barely manage my own body.
"You both seem very drunk. Do you need some help?"
As I struggled to pull my wife out of the back seat, the taxi driver, who had been watching quietly, offered his assistance.
Normally, I would have flatly refused, loathing the idea of another man touching my wife. But now, conflict stirred within me.
It was undoubtedly a gesture of pure goodwill on the driver's part.
Yet, my lust-addled brain began to inflate all kinds of filthy fantasies.
How is Hyeonju doing?
For my fantasy to even come close to reality, her condition was the most crucial factor.
"Ugh, mmm... Oppaaa..."
She was conscious, but clearly not enough to maintain any sense of reason.
In short, she was completely wasted and out of it. Even if the taxi driver helped her, she likely wouldn't even realize who was holding her.
I deliberately didn't answer. Instead, I made a show of trying to drag her out of the back seat, only to tumble backward onto the ground.
"Whoops..."
"Oh! Sir, are you alright?"
I played the part of a drunkard who lacked the capacity to answer a simple question and just acted on impulse.
Fearing an accident, the taxi driver got out of the car and began to help us.
He really is just a good person.
He seemed like a genuinely kind man, showing not a shred of lecherous intent toward my wife.
A conflict arose deep within my heart.
Guilt washed over me for exploiting his pure intentions, but conversely, my heart pounded hard with a dark, twisted expectation.
Just a little... wouldn't a little bit be fine?
Since I was right here, the driver couldn't possibly violate my wife the way Jang Mansu had.
So, just a tiny bit...
Wouldn't it be fine to enjoy a little prelude before making love to my wife?
My lust-corrupted mind poured out self-justifications once again.
"Ugh... Oh dear... Could you give us a hand?"
I decided to follow the call of my instincts.
Pretending the fall had jarred me slightly awake, I chose to exploit his goodwill.
Without a hint of annoyance, the taxi driver carefully supported my wife, who was slumped in the back seat.
He slung one of her arms over his shoulder as if carrying a buddy, and began walking slowly toward the hotel.
I stumbled after them, looking every bit the drunkard.
"..."
The slight dizziness subsided, replaced by a sharp, rising excitement that set my nerves on edge.
As my mind cleared, my focus shifted from my wife's well-being to the driver's actions.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from how closely he held her to keep her from falling, or how his hand gently wrapped around her limp, swaying arm.
I swallowed hard, trying to moisten my throat which had gone bone-dry from tension, as we stepped inside the hotel.
"Welcome."
Since it was well past midnight, the lobby was empty, save for a single night-shift clerk who greeted us.
I approached the hotel clerk, who showed no signs of annoyance despite the late hour, and dragged out the check-in process.
"A reservation... I mean, I made a reservaaation..."
"May I have your name, please? Do you happen to remember the reservation number?"
To make it clear I was wasted, I stumbled as I walked and slurred my words.
I couldn't smell it myself, but I was sure I reeked of alcohol.
As I rambled and dragged out the check-in, I could sense the taxi driver behind me growing irritated as he held up my wife.
"Sigh..."
The driver's low sigh carried a wealth of frustration.
But I ignored it, continuing my act of a difficult, heavily intoxicated customer.
The hotel clerk helping me check in looked troubled, his eyes occasionally darting to the driver and my wife standing behind me.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, the taxi driver stepped closer, trying to hand my wife over to me.
"Sir, I think I've done my part by helping you this far. I'll set your wife down on the lobby sofa, so..."
"Come on, driver~ Don't be like that... Just help us a little bit more, okay?"
I cut him off rudely mid-sentence, behaving with utter disrespect.
It was a situation that would annoy even the most patient saint.
All those nightmare clients I dealt with at work used to act this entitled. Now, I'm doing the exact same thing.
I never imagined I would use the behavior I learned from the worst clients I'd encountered in my career like this.
The taxi driver's face flushed with anger, while the hotel clerk remained resolutely neutral, determined not to get involved.
Acting as if I didn't care at all, I walked over to my wife, who was still supported by the driver, and began to display public affection.
"Our Hyeonju wants the driver to help us a little more too, right~?"
"Huh...? Mmm...?"
Because she had a lower tolerance than me, she was completely out of it.
She seemed to react simply because she heard my voice, so I decided to push the envelope.
I grabbed her cheeks and suddenly kissed her.
"Mph...! Mmm. Slurp, lick, lick."
"Hng, mm... Nnh... Ah, lick, lick."
A faint glimmer of awareness returned to her hazy eyes.
She seemed to wake up slightly, but seeing her husband's face, she relaxed and let me have her lips.
The taxi driver and the hotel clerk looked startled as the two of us suddenly began to passionately lock tongues.
"Hey, wait...! Excuse me!"
"Um... Sir, you can't do this here."
Pretending not to hear their protests, I kept kissing her while groping her breasts over her dress.
At the sensation of her breasts being fondled, my wife's body flinched and shuddered.
Even without looking, I could feel the taxi driver's eyes darting to her chest.
To stimulate his lust, I pretended to slip up and pulled down the neckline of her dress, exposing her.
In the corner of my eye, I saw the dress slip down enough to reveal the pale, swollen tops of her breasts and a glimpse of her frilly white bra.
Did I pull it down too much?
I felt a brief pang of worry because the dress had slipped further than expected, but I figured it had to be this revealing to stir dirty thoughts in the driver. I ignored it and proceeded with the check-in.
The taxi driver, who had been grumbling just moments ago, fell dead silent, as if his previous hostility had been a lie.
I could feel the hotel clerk stealing glances at my wife as he processed the check-in.
"Y-you are checked in. Check-out is by 11:00 AM tomorrow, and any late check-outs will incur an additional fee..."
The clerk's voice, as he explained the hotel policies, was thick with lingering reluctance.
Even as I felt the clerk's eyes boring into us, I pretended to notice nothing and began heading toward the rooms.
Without even being asked to help further, the taxi driver slowly followed behind me, still supporting my wife.
"Let's see... Where is the elevator...?"
Although the elevator was clearly visible not far from the front desk, I walked slowly, pretending to be lost.
The driver, who normally would have spoken up to get away as quickly as possible, remained silent and simply followed behind.
I want to see...!
Every nerve in my body tingled with the urge to look back at the two of them.
Where were the driver's eyes lingering?
Was his hand still holding her arm?
A sticky excitement and a powerful impulse surged through me, making my fingertips twitch.
Feeding my fantasies, I walked out of the spacious lobby and moved toward a darker, more secluded corridor.
There was definitely an elevator this way too, right?
Since my wife and I had visited this hotel occasionally to set the mood, I remembered the layout.
The elevator tucked away in the corner was technically reserved for the observatory on the top floor, but guests could use it as well.
Since the observatory was closed at this hour, there would be absolutely no one else around.
As expected, the area around the elevator was completely deserted.
"Ah...! The elevator!"
I cheered as if I had stumbled upon it by chance, and without warning, I spun around, capturing the sight of the two of them in my mind.
The taxi driver flinched, looking like a thief caught red-handed.
"Ahem! Cough..."
The driver cleared his throat to cover up the awkwardness, but I had already seen it.
His burning gaze had been fixed on my wife's exposed chest, and his hand, which had been holding her arm, was now wrapped around her waist.
Though he quickly averted his eyes from her breasts, he hadn't had time to pull his hand away from her waist, leaving him frozen stiff in that position.