Afterglow and Family Embrace
"How can it feel like this?"
"Didn't you like it?"
"No! Absolutely not! It hurt a little, but my body floated away in that moment, and everything spun around. I can't even describe it. Like... wanting to savor the pain?"
Even as she spoke, hot lava kept surging from the depths of her core, washing over my rod. Enough to completely soak my thighs.
"Ah, it's cold!"
"Why?"
"Why is the bed so cold?"
"You must've shifted wrong."
"Why?"
"The fluids from inside you cooled off."
"Huh? Really?"
"Yeah."
I sat up and pulled back the sheet to show her. As expected, the bed where we'd made passionate love was utterly drenched from her juices. Eun-mi stared at the wet spot with a mix of bewilderment and embarrassment.
"Did that much come out of me?"
"What, you think I snuck in some water?"
"No, but I don't usually produce this much."
"Means you felt it that intensely."
"You really turned me into a woman."
Her cheeks flushed like ripe peaches—a blend of shame and the thrill of discovering womanly pleasure. Satisfying sex changes a woman; that truth shone through right then. Suddenly, she leaned in for a kiss, murmuring "Thank you, honey" over and over as she hugged me tight.
We headed to Seoul from Goyang in a far different mood than when we'd arrived. Probably because of her changed demeanor. She sat in the passenger seat, chattering brightly in a much lighter tone, holding my right hand—the one not on the wheel—stroking it playfully, then occasionally caressing my thigh over my pants, gazing at me with loving eyes and a smile.
"Why aren't you picking up for that girl?"
"Huh? I'm out of town right now."
"Where?"
"Heading from Goyang to Seoul."
"Why Goyang?"
"Assemblyman Park's secretary came up, so he showed me around Paju's Heyri Art Village and Provence Village."
"But why go all the way to Goyang?"
"Just to get some air."
"What's your schedule like now? Got time for coffee?"
"Maru has a dinner plans tonight?"
"We can meet up first, then head there together."
"Okay. Where?"
"Where's the dinner?"
"My place. Dad wants to eat together."
"Then I'll come to Pyeongchang-dong."
"Got it. I'll call in 30 minutes."
On the way back from Goyang, her friend called, so we met Mi-hyang at a local coffee shop before heading home. She was dressed far more simply than that day in Busan—anyone unfamiliar might not peg her as a chaebol daughter. Yet even in those modest clothes, an air of unapproachable elegance emanated from her as she sat there. That shared quality between Eun-mi and Mi-hyang must stem from their upbringing, something innate only they could possess.
"Hello."
"Yes. How have you been?"
"Fine. I heard things worked out for Eun-mi. Thank you."
"No big deal."
"It was a big deal. Anyway, thank you. Eun-mi, your face is glowing. Did something happen in Goyang?"
"Can't you play dumb for once?"
"On a day like today? Anyone could tell from your face. Manage your expression when you get home."
"That obvious?"
"Of course. You're the brightest I've seen since we met. With Secretary Park, then?"
"……."
"Even in Busan?"
"That was actually the first time."
"Good for you. He's a good man."
"Sorry. And thanks."
"Just be careful not to get caught."
"Got it."
"Secretary Park, when are you heading back?"
"Driving tonight or tomorrow."
"No rush—stay for lunch tomorrow. My treat."
"No need to trouble yourself. I still have plenty left from last time."
"It'd cost more to hire someone else. Don't worry about it. Plus, I have something to discuss tomorrow."
"Understood. Can Eun-mi come too?"
"Ew, I'd prefer you alone."
"Girl, cut it out."
"Fine, I'll stop. Head home now. Dad's waiting."
"Sorry to drag you out here. See you tomorrow."
We exchanged quick goodbyes, finished our coffee, parted with Mi-hyang, and drove to her place. Chairman Lee hadn't returned yet; her mother greeted me. Dressed in hanbok, she embodied the graceful archetype of a traditional Korean mother, her voice soft, clear, and pure.
"Dad's not back?"
"No, he just called. Said he'd be 30 minutes late."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Park Maru."
"Yes, come in. I've heard about you from Eun-mi."
Guided by her mother to the living room, I noted the furnishings—simple and modest, unlike what I'd imagined for a group chairman's home. Then again, she herself carried that same unassuming frugality. As we chatted briefly, her father arrived. I stood, following her and her mother to the entrance for greetings.
"Father, we arrived first."
"Yeah. Sudden guest held me up. Sorry for the delay."
"No, I hope I didn't disrupt your work."
We exchanged pleasantries and moved to the dining room for dinner. The food, served by the housekeeper, was neat and refined, matching the home's vibe—nothing extravagant. Likely their family tradition.
"Mother, delicious. Thank you."
"Hope it suited your taste. Probably not what you expected."
"Nonsense. It was wonderful."
"Don't expect extravagance just because we're wealthy. It's our everyday fare."
"Frankly, I preferred it. I was braced for dishes I wouldn't even recognize."
"Good to hear. Let's move to the living room for tea."
Sipping tea from the housekeeper, we conversed easily. Her mother kept glancing at me with a faint smile; her father probed my life story, future election plans—nodding occasionally, seeking elaborations, showing keen interest. As night deepened, I rose to leave.
"Where to at this hour?"
"Time for bed. Mother, dinner was excellent."
"Got a place to stay?"
"Juniors' place, or a motel if not. No worries."
"We have plenty of rooms. Stay here."
"I'm fine."
"Didn't I say treat me like your father? What father sends his son out to sleep elsewhere?"
"Maru, stay."
I had no choice but to sit back down. Once I agreed, she called Assemblyman Hwang to say she'd stay in Pyeongchang-dong.
"Do you play baduk?"
"Just the basics."
"What's your rank?"
"Around 5-kyu."
"Perfect. Let's play a game."
"And you, Father?"
"First-dan, probably. Handicap match."
I sat across from her father at the baduk board. His style was fierce yet occasionally aggressive, tenacious, then abruptly resolute—discarding attachments without remorse. He'd harass a near-captured group endlessly, then at the kill moment, ignore cleanup as if it never existed. A peculiar flair.
Her mother and she watched for a while before retiring; we traded wins and losses until dawn neared. Morning, he was prepping to leave as I washed up and bid him farewell. After breakfast, her mother called me to the living room for tea, just us two.
"Park."
"Yes, Mother?"
"I'm a terrible woman. Instead of stopping my daughter's affair, knowing it, I ask you this favor. Understand me."
"You're not bad. If anyone's at fault, it's me."
"Eun-mi's no bad seed. Our life forced an loveless marriage, leading to this. Please look after her."
"Don't worry. I'll do my best."
"Thank you. Call anytime if trouble arises."
"I will."
It defied common sense, yet it unfolded this way. Legally strangers, I left their home treated as a son-in-law. Karma from past lives, or ties carrying over—who knows.