The Tingling Sensation
Thud. Dropped onto the toilet seat like I'd just fallen hard on my ass, I furrowed my brow.
I let out a groan at the stinging impact, but he didn't seem to care in the slightest.
Song Haneul ducked into the room and came back with the condoms and lube he'd bought earlier. He gave the box a couple of sharp shakes and tipped out the contents. Brand-new as they were, three of them popped right free. He closed his fist around one and set the other two, box and all, up on the shelf.
That casual indifference made something hot surge up in my chest.
Whether I was hurting or not, as long as he could get what he wanted, that was all that mattered, huh?
The thought that I was about to get taken again right this second had me scared out of my mind. He'd already forced it twice before—what the hell was he still so unsatisfied about? It wasn't like sex was the only thing filling his head. So what was it?
"Hey. Are you seriously going to do it?"
"Yeah."
"You've got an onahole too."
"It's not even comparable."
Not even comparable? The sheer absurdity of that answer left my head blank for a second. It was the kind of reaction that said, why bother with a fake when there's a perfectly good hole right here at home? I was speechless.
"Nobody uses their own family just because it's better than an onahole. Right...?"
I shot the words at him, cold sweat prickling out, but Song Haneul didn't so much as flinch.
"We've already done it once or twice. It's fine now."
"What if I get pregnant? Why do you keep doing this?"
Simply saying I didn't want to wasn't going to work, so I dragged out whatever might jab at his conscience. Even so, Song Haneul's hands never stopped. He half-listened while his fingers moved with casual ease, stripping the clothes off me.
As they came free in clumsy stages, my hands rose on their own to cover my chest. Embarrassment made my gaze skitter. Song Haneul's lower half, by contrast, was swelling in open reaction. That thick bulk had already been visible through the fabric of his pants; now it looked ready to tear straight through them.
Thud. The moment he freed the rigid cock it swung under its own weight, heavy and proud. Watching him roll the condom on with practiced ease left me stunned.
He was better at it than I ever was.
"It's been a while, so try a pregnancy test if you want. After that I've been using condoms the whole time, you know?"
"...You're going to regret this?"
"I won't."
"Think about when our bodies switch back and you've been getting done by me the whole time. How does that sound?"
I twitched the corner of my mouth and let the not-quite-threat spill out. He was the one who'd jumped me in the first place, figuring it was fine because it was already his own body—so maybe the words didn't mean much. All sorts of thoughts crowded in, but maybe a woman would care about that kind of thing. It wasn't some stranger. It was me. Family.
I tried to drive the point home, but it wasn't enough. If he'd been the type to wilt at a line like that, the erection would have gone soft long ago. Looking at the thing swaying right in front of my eyes, I was already half resigned.
"I told you I'm fine with it."
"Bullshit."
I clicked my tongue.
"Just wait till our bodies switch back. I'll really give it to you then."
"Ah, fuck off."
"Just take them off for now."
"Ah—I said fuck off?"
I twisted away from the reaching hand. Not that there was anywhere to go while I was sitting on a toilet. My back was blocked; all I could do was face the hand coming for me.
Had hands always been this big?
He peeled my clenched fingers free, seized the waistband of my pants, and yanked. The force was strong enough to bounce my hips up for a second; I flinched hard.
"We've already come this far!"
"You're the one who dragged me here. Ah—the pants, the pants! They're going to tear!"
"I'll buy you new ones!"
"What, you think money fixes everything!?"
I yelled in pure disbelief, but my thin arms stood no chance against Song Haneul. Half-lifted already, I was hauled clean off the toilet and ended up with my bare back flat against the bathroom floor. With my top gone, the cold tile bit straight down to the bone.
"Ah—what the hell are you doing? Shit, you planning to scrub the bathroom with my back?"
I spat the words out in disgust, but my pants—and the underwear with them—were already long gone. The legs that had been held up finally lost their grip on the fabric and sank slowly to the floor.
"It's because you keep fighting. If you'd just taken them off quietly I wouldn't have had to lay you down like this."
"Huu... I'm going crazy."
Left in nothing but a bra, completely bare otherwise, my body curled in on itself. I tried to make myself small, to hide as much as I could, but those large hands locked around my knees and forced them wide. All that effort meant nothing; Song Haneul pushed straight in between my spread thighs. After that I couldn't even close my legs.
"Me too. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"Ah, wait—ah, don't—ah, hick!?"
He squeezed out the lube. The thick gel slid over the condom and dripped down onto my crotch. The cold made me cry out sharp and high, but that wasn't the end of it. Better than just thrusting in raw, of course—yet the feel of his fingers parting the folds and probing the entrance still sent chills racing down my spine.
My back felt ready to buckle. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried with everything I had to endure. Huff, huff—I steadied my breathing and rode out the sensation.
As if determined to smash that resolve, he pushed into the hole with a wet squelch. I jolted so hard my waist writhed and bounced up off the floor.
"Hey—hey...!"
"If you haven't been doing it alone in secret you'd be all pent-up by now. I'll help you out."
"Kk—ugh."
Squelch. Schlick. The lube was so thick the rubbing sounds filled the whole bathroom. I'd been pressed against the tile long enough that it no longer felt cold, but the chill of the gel refused to become familiar. That first cold touch, before it warmed, even carried a stinging edge.
His fingers slid deeper and stirred. I clamped my mouth shut against the strange sounds that wanted to escape and locked my stomach tight. Abdominal breathing came on its own; I exhaled hard through my nose and swallowed every moan. With my lower half pinned, the only movement left to me was a little lift of the hips. Twisting my upper body did nothing but thrash uselessly once the bottom half was caught. Even that was hard—my waist felt half-broken already. It was exhausting, and the way my chest bounced only made it worse.
"Ssup—huep—ugh—euk. Kyaak!"
"This is the good spot, right?"
The moment he found that place a raw scream tore out of me. It was nothing like the rest. Song Haneul's voice turned sly as he kept working his fingers, repeating the same merciless stroke. People say repeated stimulation eventually dulls, but there was none of that—only constant flinching, constant climax.
"Ah—ah. Hueuk!"
Tears welled and I came again and again. Unlike a man who finishes after one shot, the peaks—large and small—kept searing into the small of my back over and over. Electricity raced through every nerve; heat followed; the senses of my whole body started to blur into chaos. Just as the waist that kept trying to buck free seemed about to stop obeying me at all, my body went completely limp.
Strength drained out of me. I was still gasping when a massive rubber-sheathed pillar slowly rubbed against the entrance.
"Ah... aaa..."
Not now. I wanted to say it, but the ragged breathing left me no strength for words. My lower half was lifted. He gripped hard between waist and pelvis and drew me slowly toward him. A sobbing moan slipped free just as Song Haneul eased his hips back a fraction.
"Hoo. Going in."
"Aaat—no—don't—"
He held my waist, lined himself up, and pushed forward with deliberate slowness.
"Kkeueuk—hueuk—ugh!"
Tzzuk. Squelch. The thick length forced its way inside with a heavy, grinding pressure. Completely different from fingers—this was being pried open, an indescribable stretch. A sensation I had never once felt as a man; it felt like my brain short-circuited. Hair stood on end all over my body. I ground my molars together.
"Hua...! Just a second—like this—"
"Crazy—ah—apat—"
It felt like my pelvis was twisting out of true. The sense of being pierced straight through the belly made breathing almost impossible. From below it felt as if my guts were being shoved upward; everything inside me was a mess. My head spun. The cock filling me to the brim made every nerve stand rigid. All consciousness funneled there. My mind flickered in and out. From the crown of my head down, every pore opened and sweat poured free.
Song Haneul's face, leaning close while we stayed locked together, filled my vision. It wasn't the Song Haneul I knew—because he wore a man's face now.
He stayed still for a long time, pressed tight, then drew a deep breath and pulled his hips back. Tzzubub. The cock slid almost free, then drove in deep again. Different from the half-asleep pain I'd felt before. Whether because we'd started thoroughly wet or because waking sensation was simply another world, every thrust painted my thoughts pure white.
"Heuk—kek—hek."
My head snapped back. Every bounce made the bra hook dig sharply into my spine. Rubbing against the tile, it even clacked.
"Back—my back hurts—ah—kkeuk!"
"I'll undo it."
"Ah—shit—ah."
He hauled me upright in one strong pull. Sitting astride him, arms locked around his neck, I clung with everything I had. The fullness inside made me need something—anything—to grip just to survive it. I thought freeing the hook would ease the pressure on my chest, but held tight against him the tightness never left. Every small twist of my waist sent that strange internal friction racing through me.
"Hueuk—ugh."
"Yaa, Song Hamin. You planning to keep hanging on forever?"
"Crazy bastard... it hurts."
The stretch was so raw I thought I might cry. Song Haneul only stroked down my back.
"Ha. This bathroom floor is fucking hard."
"Ah."
His hand slid lower, cupped my ass, and lifted me a little. The light body rose, then sank back down hard.
"Keok—wait—"
"You're surprisingly light, you know that?"
"How long are you—"
"I haven't even come yet."
"Hueuk—ugh."
No strength left in my legs. Every time he lifted and dropped me the impact thudded deep inside, and all I could do was come, stupid and helpless. When I used to masturbate I always thought once would be enough; now there was no end in sight.
Suddenly Song Haneul laid my upper body across the toilet seat. Then he sped up.
"Ugh—eueut—keuk—heut—eueung...!"
My head felt ready to split; I barely registered what sounds were leaving my throat. That it hurt was certain. Eyes squeezed shut, mind going hazy under the relentless wet thuds.
"Hueeeeeung!"
When he put his full weight behind a thrust, consciousness seemed to blank out for a second. My nose stung and tears spilled. Something gurgled deep inside. The cock that had stayed buried so long finally pulled free, and a heavy, balloon-like lump of rubber came with it, heavy with sticky fluid. He peeled the condom off and dropped it onto my belly.
"Hoo. Rest a bit, then one more time."
Song Haneul raked sweat-damp hair back from his forehead and started filling the bathtub. Water thundered down. My blurring vision stayed fixed on him.
"Crazy bitch."
Feeling this sensation fully for the first time, my lower belly tingled with a deep, stinging ache.