Relentlessly Seducing the Married Woman (2)
Less than ten minutes had passed since I'd paraded my bottomless fashion in front of Eunyoung noona, and her expected acquisition points had already skyrocketed from 30 to 45. As expected, the simpler and more instinct-driven the approach, the more reliably it stoked her lust. It had taken real effort just to nudge those points up to 20 when they hadn't even been visible at first.
Wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and flapping it around had netted me 15 points in ten minutes flat. The expected acquisition points didn't correlate perfectly with arousal levels, of course, but the strong connection had been proven across multiple cases by now. This smooth upward climb was no bad omen, at least.
When Hyeun and I first hooked up, it was around 80 points, right? Sure, some pent-up lust from before played a role, but the bulk probably came from her baseline affection for me. Cha Yuri, whom I'd pegged as starting from zero affection, began at 50 even with considerable buildup. Do Sihee kicked off a bit higher than Hyeun—maxed-out lust plus hitting her exact type.
Mina's case had that baseline friend-level goodwill boosted by her heat cycle. Factoring in all those precedents, estimating Eunyoung noona's "fuckable" threshold wasn't too hard. Parent-child vibes or not, it wasn't starting from zero affection. And with nearly twenty years of piled-up lust? Near max level, easy.
So my personal benchmark: 100 points. When that number popped up next to her face, we'd do it. For now, that was the goal. Given the current momentum, stacking 100 points over three days shouldn't be tough. If not, I'd improvise.
"……Mm."
Across the table, she avoided my gaze the whole meal, cheeks flushed—and now her pheromones were thick enough that I could smell them. Her rice bowl, barely touched after ten-plus minutes, spoke volumes about her state of mind.
"Noona, food not good?"
"…H-Huh? Oh, no… it's fine?"
"Why the formal talk all of a sudden?"
"R-Right, yeah… silly me…."
What if I just pounced on her mid-meal like this? Would she snap back to her senses and lecture me firmly that it was wrong? Or cave to her lust and yield her body, saying it couldn't be helped? Even those fantasies spiced up this electric dinner.
Sitting across from an attractive woman with my lower half exposed, her fidgeting from the sight turning me on. My cock stiffened naturally under the table.
"Kinda hot in here, summer and all."
I flapped my T-shirt extra hard in front of her. I felt her eyes lock faintly on my pecs and collarbone. Like Hyeun, she got fired up by male muscle—staring awkwardly at my torso the whole time, then yanking her gaze away the instant our eyes met.
"W-Wait a sec! I'll turn on the AC…."
"I got it."
She tried to bolt from the table, but I yanked my chair back first.
"Eep?!"
"I'm closer to the living room anyway. I'll handle it."
"W-Wait, Taekyung! Walking around like that is kinda…."
"Keep eating. Be right back."
Before she could stop me, I stood and sauntered to the living room behind me, flapping the T-shirt extra for effect. In the old world, who'd give a damn about a guy's ass or thighs? But here, a man's rear was prime pussy-melting real estate.
"Hup."
I bent low—letting the shirt ride up a bit—to snag the fallen AC remote off the floor.
Beep beep beep.
Power on, temp to 22 degrees. I turned leisurely back toward the table.
"……."
Eunyoung noona, head dipped a beat late, avoided my eyes on purpose. Her chopsticks danced aimlessly in the air. I slid back into my seat all casual-like.
"AC's on."
"Didn't see, so relax."
"Huh? See what?"
"N-Nothing, sweetie…."
The 50 points floating by her face said otherwise.
"Mom peeking at her son's ass—what's the harm? I don't mind."
"Y-You said you weren't my son before…."
"So you were checking out some random guy's ass, then?"
"I-I didn't see anything…!!"
"Got it."
She was half-hooked already, but I didn't press. Plenty of time and chances left. Rushing her now might shatter this delicious tension and let reason kick back in—that'd be a loss. Better to stretch this razor-edge thrill as long as possible.
Max out her lust today, and Saturday's fuck-fest vibe would fall right into place.
Clink, clink….
Still stealing glances, she poked at her food. Two fried eggs on her plate; her chopsticks scraped the dish uselessly. Thinking she'd grab one, I reached over.
Clack.
"Eek…?!?!"
Chopsticks collided; she yanked her hand back like it'd been burned. One flew from her grip.
Clang, clink….
It hit the floor under the table with a racket.
"Why so jumpy, noona?"
"J-Jumpy?! I wasn't startled at all?!"
"Going for the egg, right? Here."
"Oh, uh, y-yeah…. Thanks…."
Too flustered to notice she'd slipped into "noona" mode, she thanked the egg on her plate. Then she clocked the empty feeling in her right hand.
"You dropped a chopstick earlier."
"Oh, d-did I? What a scatterbrain…."
"Landed under the table."
"U-Under the table…?"
"Yeah, under the table."
Her overreaction struck me as odd for a second—until I remembered what was down there. A grin slipped out unbidden.
To grab it, she'd have to duck under and face my exposed goods head-on.
"Not picking it up?"
"Oh, r-right…. Gotta get it…."
I nudged her back gently toward the table's edge. The second her face vanished below, I spread my legs wide in my seat.
A bold display, sure—but even if she saw it, she couldn't call me out without admitting she'd looked. Pointing out my shameless exposure would mean confessing she'd stared at my crotch.
We'd tacitly agreed: no commentary on under-table antics.
"Ch-chopstick…. Where'd it go…~."
She fumbled around down there, playing it off like a simple search. But her body barely shifted—no rustling sounds.
Probably locked eyes on something the instant she ducked under, too stunned to move.
The thrill of my cock on blatant display hardened it further; I felt it swelling below.
Thud!
A head-bonk echoed from under the table.
No need to look—I could guess.
"Everything okay, noona?"
"N-Nothing! F-Found the chopstick!!"
"You hurt?"
"I'm fine! C-Coming up now…!!"
"Coming up now" implied she hadn't before—but I let it slide, smirking inwardly.
Her flushed face emerged from below, and by it floated a red heart marked 70.
Looks like she liked the merchandise. Good.