For Reasons Unknown
The truth was, you could rebuild human relationships anytime. It didn’t even have to be for a job. Step outside, throw yourself into anything at all, and you’d make friends soon enough.
People always said first impressions mattered, and looking put-together on the surface went a long way.
It felt a little vain to say it myself, but a glance in the mirror made it objectively clear.
Wander around alone long enough and someone would ask for your number. Or guys you’d been friendly with would suddenly start talking about “vibes” or asking you out. Pretending not to notice would just make you look stupid.
Even I had to admit the face was decent. The body wasn’t bad either.
Maybe that was why. Even when it felt like a hassle, a quiet confidence still settled in. The thought that I could always start over again.
Image counted for so much that it became an advantage. I had the kind of looks that would let me live comfortably enough if I wanted to.
But I was sick of it. Exhausted.
I liked dressing up, sure, but getting tangled up with people and worn down by it? No thanks. I didn’t want those relationships that, no matter how hard you pushed them away, somehow twisted themselves into knots anyway.
That was why I’d dropped out of school, declared I was going to find work, and shut myself in at home. Part of it was knowing that starting over wouldn’t be hard, so I could afford to be bold about it. I hadn’t been all that attached to the people I’d met so far, either.
Watching Song Hamin sway on her feet, head heavy with drink, was almost funny.
She’d pushed her hips onto my lap just like I’d told her and was nodding off there, so obedient it didn’t even feel awkward to call her that.
“Feeling the alcohol a bit?”
“…Yeah. Head’s spinning.”
Being with Song Hamin was comfortable, in its way.
Back in high school our friends had been completely different, and studying had kept us from crossing paths much. But whenever we did run into each other, it felt easy, like catching up with an old friend after a long time. Maybe that was just what family was. You took their presence for granted. You never looked at them that other way. So it had always been easy, and that feeling still held.
Hamin’s words were starting to slur. She twisted around a little to glance back at me.
“Are we switching now?”
“Probably?”
“Mmm.”
It had nothing to do with the actual conditions for switching, but Hamin had clearly been waiting for it. She sat still, expectant.
Once her body came back she’d drink again, game again, live the same way she always had.
I slid my arms around her slender waist and pulled her in. Soft belly under my hands, I pressed our bodies slowly together. Everything about her was pliant, ready to react. I breathed as deeply as I could and just felt the warmth.
“When you drink, who do you usually drink with?”
The questions came one after another as they floated up.
Hamin only ever got this drunk when she was in my body, after all.
“Just… the guys from the army?”
“No girls?”
I asked it with a little snort of laughter. She thought for a second.
“There are some. Not often, though.”
“So there are.”
“Well, it’s not like there aren’t any.”
Hamin’s original body was fine too. He just never bothered styling himself, so he always looked a little scruffy. Dressing him up once or twice was fun, but there was no real need to go that far. Teaching him how was a pain anyway.
The movie kept playing, but I wasn’t watching it. I left it running like background noise, like music left on, and focused on the body in my arms.
Hamin sat on top of me with her legs stretched out. I rested a hand lightly over her crotch. The dolphin shorts I usually wore were short enough that just sliding a hand up her thigh let me feel the underwear underneath.
“…Do we have to?”
She looked faintly disgusted, but she seemed to have decided there was no choice if she wanted to switch back. She stayed still and accepted it.
“Just a little?”
“What’s ‘a little’ even mean…”
She grumbled, but she stayed quiet and obedient.
I teased her through the fabric, then slowly peeled the shorts down. She fidgeted, so I only pushed them to her thighs and went to work on the hole itself.
Drinking had stopped mattering. The movie was just a light keeping the dark living room bright.
“Nngh… mmm… hnn…”
I pushed my fingers in deep. Hamin’s upper body tipped farther and farther forward. Watching her drape herself over the arms I’d wrapped around her from behind, whimpering, I felt a petty little urge to be mean.
I scratched lightly, teasing, then found the good spot and prodded it hard.
Trying to think of other things so I wouldn’t get hard had become pointless. The cock pressed against Hamin’s back was swelling, trying to push free of my pants. Trapped like that it was uncomfortable, and I started getting impatient too.
“Get up for a second.”
“Mmm.”
She sniffled, but she still listened well. As long as I didn’t get her completely blackout drunk, she stayed manageable. If she went fully unconscious it would just feel like screwing a passed-out kid.
She let out a soft little laugh, so she clearly wasn’t all that sober anymore.
I stripped my pants off, got my cock standing, and sat Hamin down on it. I’d gotten her wet enough that the hole lined up reasonably well. I held myself steady so nothing slipped, gripped her waist, and pulled her down. She sank onto me with a wet, heavy sound.
“Haaah…!”
The thick grind inside her almost made me come right then. I’d already held out long enough; adding this on top of it was nearly impossible. By now I was used to it, though. Closing my eyes and breathing deep got me through somehow.
Crushed under her own weight, Hamin took me to the root and shuddered hard. I stroked her lower belly from behind and could feel exactly how deep I was. It was about the same size as the ones I’d seen at the adult toy shop, or bigger, and I’d learned that this worked better than most other kinds of stimulation.
The difference between wearing a condom and not wearing one was definitely huge.
I held back, ready to pull out and finish outside if I had to. Once you got past the first rough edge it wasn’t a big problem, as long as you didn’t thrash around too hard. Hamin was drunk and limp-legged; she wasn’t going to start bouncing on her own, so there was no real risk of coming yet.
I could just stay buried like this and watch the movie.
“Nngh… mm… ah.”
Even with me inside her Hamin still sounded strained, whimpering. Maybe rubbing her belly was stimulating too, because the sensation was so strange. I couldn’t tell from my side, so I pressed a little harder with my hand.
“Nngh… hhk… ah… aah…”
I could feel the faint pressure against my cock, so her belly was working hard to take it. She was drooling now, moans spilling out freely. The alcohol had made her control clumsy.
Watching her like that only made me throb harder.
Why did my own body react this way? Maybe because her attitude was nothing like the people I’d always found so tiresome. She felt somehow different from the Song Hamin I usually knew, enough that I started thinking of her as someone else. The face I’d only ever seen in mirrors looked different when I saw it from outside. Right now she just seemed like a pretty stranger. Even the voice—the one I used to speak with—sounded subtly different when I heard it directly, which only made it worse.
“It’s weird… haah… nngh… mm…”
“Just watch the movie.”
Hamin’s back was arched like a shrimp. She lifted her head a little to look at the TV, then slumped forward again almost at once. I could feel her trembling directly against me.
I slipped a hand between her legs and rubbed gently above the place where we were joined. A soft, sobbing sound answered. I flicked the little bud with my fingers, pinched it, worked it over and over until she started melting.
“I can’t… I’m gonna… hhk… ah.”
Just like she said, the grip around me tightened. I hadn’t even thrust, and the stimulation was intense. Her insides moved on their own like something alive. I’d thought staying still would be fine, but every time Hamin twisted her hips the friction ground deep.
I swallowed hard, then finally lifted her and laid her face-down on the bed, hips tilted up, ass out.
Moving myself, driving into her, delivered a sensation beyond words. It wasn’t that it felt good right away, but the raw stimulation building toward climax made me gasp in pure admiration.
“Hoo… I’m losing it.”
The alcohol was creeping higher, reason fraying. Hamin’s face looked dazed and tired. Every time the light from the TV behind us caught the flush on her cheeks, I got harder. I knew I shouldn’t, but I still pulled her close.
“Nngh… mm… ah. Haaah. Ahn!”
When she was still conscious she clamped her mouth shut and tried to keep the sounds in. Once her mind started crumbling she just cried out openly, unprotected. It was a world of difference from when she was fully asleep and barely reacted at all.
I slapped her ass and drove into her hard. Slick fluid ran down and dirtied the floor. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room. The more her juices mixed in, the smoother it got.
Breath coming short, I sank my teeth into the nape of her neck. The marks already there, half-covered by bandages, looked far too lewd.
“Kh… nngh…!!”
I thrust deep, and when the edge hit I yanked my hips back with everything I had. Instinct begged me to just bury myself and empty everything inside. Reason remembered there was no condom and broke out in a cold sweat.
A sharp spurt.
Even when I used an onahole it was the same. But finishing outside shot the come out like a water gun. The sudden climax hit so hard I couldn’t control it at all. I painted the sofa, Hamin’s hair, her back. More came out than I expected, and when I carefully milked the rest free her body was filthy with white.
“Nngh… hahh… uuhh…”
Hamin shuddered through the aftershocks of her own orgasm. I pulled her over, made her kneel, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and rubbed my cock against her face. Dragging it over her unfocused lips sent a strange feeling through me.
Why would anyone put their mouth on the place you piss from? I’d wondered that watching videos. Doing it myself sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted more, but she didn’t look ready to open her mouth, so I let it go.
This was enough for today.
“We should clean up.”
I half-carried the limp Hamin into the bathroom. I came in her hair one more time before I finally started washing her properly.
An unexplained sense of conquest prickled over my skin.
It felt good.
The next day.
“—We didn’t switch.”
Hamin’s dead-serious face made me smile a little awkwardly.
“…Guess it didn’t work.”
“What were the conditions again? Ugh, my stomach hurts too…?”
Her memory of last night must have been hazy. She clutched her lower belly and grimaced.
“Just holding each other.”
“For how long?”
“Don’t remember.”
“Then what the hell did you do to me while I was asleep?”
“What about it?”
“The first time we switched.”
Hamin looked disgusted, but I had nothing to say.
It had been a lie, after all.