Some Things Just Aren't Right
It had always been a downward gaze. I was above, and it was always below.
For physical reasons, that was an unchangeable fact of life.
But for the first time, I looked up.
My body was sitting on the toilet with its legs spread wide, and I, as I was now, was on my knees between them. I'd said I'd do it for a fee, but the moment I actually faced this scene, a strange feeling settled over me.
Why does it look so big?
It was clearly my own body, yet it felt completely unfamiliar.
Maybe the eye level was the cause. The gaze that had always looked down from above had now been flipped entirely.
Just as the far side of the moon is hard to see, having only ever looked at the upper half meant that a simple change in viewpoint was reason enough. I also newly realized how much more grotesque the veins looked when they were embedded below rather than above. The shadowed underside's true shape burned itself into both my eyes.
Or maybe it was because the distance had closed. There used to be a full upper body's length of space every time I looked; now I could press my face right up against it, so of course the size felt different from before.
On top of that, the hands I was using were Song Haneul's, so the comparison was stark.
Why am I this tense over a handjob?
Kneeling there, I sidelong-glanced at the thing hanging at face height, swallowed hard, and brought my hand to it.
"How did you do it at first?"
"I just rubbed that part, but nowhere else felt like anything…"
"If you only touch it like this here, it just gets stimulated, you know? You feel something building right away, but it never actually resolves—it just leaks and dribbles."
When I rubbed only the head, her face crumpled as if the sensation felt wrong. It had already turned red from being worked over so many times. As the place grew more sensitive, Song Haneul's patience was clearly scraping bottom.
"When you thrust, how do you thrust? You shove it in deep—but you didn't give it that feeling and just rubbed here, did you? If that was enough, why would anyone slam it in during sex? You could just stick it in the entrance and rock your hips."
I demonstrated with a little hip-rocking motion as I explained, and she listened with surprising focus.
Listen carefully. I'm only explaining this once.
I didn't know when we'd switch back to our own bodies, but I had to keep in mind that even a week could vanish in a situation this clueless and stuck. That said, I couldn't always do this for her, so I was teaching the method so she could at least take care of it alone.
"But you—you don't care if I just go ahead and jerk off with your body?"
"Not really? How rough could you even get with it anyway."
"You psycho."
"What? You're so uptight I feel like I'm gonna suffocate. Ugh!"
I'm the one cutting her some slack here—why do I feel like I'm the only one being strangled?
In a flash of irritation I gripped the dick tight and squeezed. At the same time her head snapped back.
"Ow! Don't grab it like that!"
"You suddenly pissed me off. Why'd you grab my hair?"
"I was startled… Shit, that hurts."
Her flustered hand had clamped onto my hair, and my heart jumped too. I needed to be careful. Those hands were so ridiculously big—just grabbing my hair felt like the whole back of my head had been caught.
I steadied my breathing in the briefly sharpened atmosphere. At times like this, if we weren't careful we both got irritated, so I had to mind not crossing the line.
"Anyway, you have to rub it all the way down like you're thrusting. Hold it like this with your hand and keep stroking."
"You're terrible at this—what the hell?"
"The posture's different. I normally hold it like this, but suddenly trying to grip it this way—you think the feel comes naturally? And right now even if I hold it, I can't feel what it feels like for me, so how would I know."
I couldn't help clicking my tongue. Since I was doing it for her, not getting the feel was inevitable. If it had been my own cock, I would have just gripped and stroked by instinct.
I took hold of the shaft beside the head and rocked it back and forth. Looking straight ahead made for quite a sight, so I raised my gaze—and ended up meeting them: Song Haneul's eyes looking down at me, holding an awkward posture.
"See? Stroke it like this."
"That part doesn't feel anything at all."
"It's, uh. The rhythm that matters. Think about when you're putting it in and pulling it out."
Not enough to make a slap-slap sound, but I moved my arm as close to that motion as I could. I hadn't even stroked that long before my hand and arm felt strained.
The problem was Song Haneul's hands. Barely any muscle, and small enough that wrapping around it was uncomfortable. The unfamiliar posture couldn't be ignored either. Every time I moved my hand, the excess lube scraped down. It was unpleasant every time it dripped onto my shoulder, but there was no helping it. My wrist had already been grabbed and my head grabbed by hands covered in lube—this much I could ignore.
"So, does this feel okay?"
"It's a little weird…"
"Then try it with your own hand."
"I need you to do the whole thing so I know what it feels like. I already paid you."
This bastard, still trying to get full value for the money.
"I think this is enough…?"
"But I spent a hundred thousand won—you can do at least this much. My arms hurt too."
"Fine. A proper hundred-thousand-won job. Once is enough, right?"
Thinking of it as a hundred thousand won per ejaculation made it somewhat better. I fixed my head upward and pumped my arm hard, gritting my teeth, determined to finish even if it meant muscle pain.
"Hey, hey. Isn't that too fast?"
"If you go fast, you come fast, you know? Being like this with you is kinda… you know."
"Be careful not to bounce your chest too much. They're gonna fall off."
"I know…"
Because of the swaying, my upper body shook on its own. Having these things attached, after vigorous movement I even felt my center of gravity shifting without permission.
"Nngh. Just come already…"
Heat started rising in my face. No matter how much I stroked, there was no sign of ejaculation, and the frustration mounted—I'd shaken it this much, it should have come by now, but with no sign at all my temper flared. Looking forward was embarrassing; looking down made my body tip; looking to the side showed my burdensome partner; looking up showed Song Haneul's scowling face. A situation where I didn't know where to put my eyes, running straight into the limits of this body.
"You're just bad at it. It kind of feels like it might be building…"
"Ugh."
I'm going crazy. My arms are gonna fall off first.
"Aah! I can't. Switching arms—I'm gonna die."
"Is going fast the right way? Your speed slowed down too."
"My arm strength's giving out, what am I supposed to do. You should, exercise, a little normally."
"…If I exercise hard, my body gets tired. I deliberately don't, and I don't eat much."
"You'll die like that."
"Then you do it a bit."
How much freeloading does she want to do in life.
"Hah. Get out of the way."
I pushed back sweat-soaked hair and shifted my position slightly on my knees. Doing it with my left hand alone probably wouldn't finish the job, so I eventually gripped it with both hands. Left hand vigorous, right hand just for stimulation. That much should somehow make her come.
Huff. I panted and stroked with both hands. I also had to be careful not to let my upper body shake too much, so there was a lot to mind. I swung both arms, pouring out cold sweat, but in the end I couldn't make her ejaculate.
"Ah, I can't. I can't do it. Why won't you come. You're not holding it in just to bitch at me for not doing it, are you?"
What time is it even? I'm jerking off a guy who woke up and started jerking, doing it for him instead—why is this taking so long, I have no idea. No matter how much it's a first time in a male body, not ejaculating this long shouldn't be possible.
"You're blaming me for you being bad at it?"
"Fuck."
I was so dumbfounded the curse came out on its own.
"Just watch the porn you were watching and do it yourself—why'd you come in here."
"Ah, do I have to watch while doing it?"
"You did it that way too, what weird thing are you saying."
"…Women don't need that kind of thing."
"How would I know that."
I was so exhausted I couldn't continue anymore.
"Going back into the room might be a bit awkward…"
"Don't sit on the chair looking like that. If it gets dirty it's hard to clean."
She grumbled and complained, but bit her lip tight as if she hadn't planned to do that originally.
"Cover your face a bit."
"What?"
"I was almost there—before it all settles down."
"How am I supposed to cover it? Like this?"
I brought both hands together without touching my face. I covered them like I was washing my face, but even doing as told, no reaction came back. I didn't even know what she wanted, so I just burned inside.
"With your hands, just the eyes like this."
"Eyes?"
Song Haneul's hand gripped my arm and tilted it slightly. The back of the hand angled at ninety degrees covered only the eyes. Since my field of vision itself stayed blocked, I didn't feel much—but thinking about what would be visible, I could tell it would feel completely different.
"The chest shows a little…"
"Wait, you crazy bastard."
Before Song Haneul's words finished, I could already tell how my situation was changing.
"You're not trying to use me as fap material because you can't watch porn right now, are you?"
"…I'm saying I'll look at my own body and do it—why are you freaking out."
"It feels weird. It's not your body—it's my problem."
I emphasized it, but Song Haneul seemed to think this wasn't right either; irritation showed. It even surfaced fully on her face, unable to hide.
"If you'd made me come cheap, I wouldn't have said this much."
"…I taught you, so try it alone."
"I was going to do it alone, but I've got no material and no strength left."
"So now you're saying you'll look at your body and jerk off?"
"If I cover the face and just look at the body, it's fine, right?"
She said it so brazenly I started wondering if I was the one in the wrong.
"You crazy bitch."
But still—some things just aren't right.