Can I Fuck Your Mom? (1)
I have no friends. That fact doesn't particularly sadden me. I've never been the sociable type since way back, but... well, after that public confession fiasco before I lost my memories, all my connections snapped like twigs. It feels like it happened just the other day to me—a black mark on my history.
"Ah... a memory I'd rather forget just bubbled up."
Birds of a feather flock together. Guys without friends tend to band with similar types. Back in school, I hung out with dudes who were just like me. You spend most of your day at school, so going solo felt too lonely. Eating alone in the cafeteria was embarrassing, and you needed someone to kill time with on weekends or holidays. Friends felt essential back then.
I didn't realize it at the time. Stinky dudes like us were just substitutes because we couldn't get girlfriends—a stopgap at best. No one's choosing bromance over pretty, cute girls.
Right now, just the women living with me and offering their bodies number six: Kim Hea-e, Kim Jiwon, Baek Eunha, Isia, Seo Jeonghui, Bianca... Park Jisoo drags in fresh ones periodically, so my balls never run dry. School friends? Coworkers? They're all disposable. You get close because you're stuck in the same space, but once you leave, the ties fade. Not a single one makes me nostalgic now.
"Mmm~ So ultimately, Master wants to hang out with an old friend after all this time, right?"
"What? When did I say that, Baek Eunha?"
"Repeating the same thing over and over is a sign of deep obsession."
An onahole talking like some teacher. Oh, right... she was my homeroom teacher.
"You know how many women I have, and you're saying that crap?"
"Even carnivores crave salad now and then."
That analogy hit a little too close to home, somehow.
"Come to think of it, even back then, Master never really fit in with friends... always on the outskirts..."
"Delete that memory right now."
"Even on the school trip..."
"Whatever you're about to say, shut it."
It'd definitely paint me in a bad light. Truth is, I wasn't popular with guys or girls in high school. Back then, I was burning with inferiority toward my sister—some prodigy outshining me in studies, sports, everything—and fueling my ambition. No mental slack, always rushing, a total gloomy mess.
"Keep yapping, and I'll ram my dick in you."
"Do it, then. An onahole like me has nothing to fear from dick."
"...Fine. Opposite, then. Dick ban for the foreseeable future."
"Mmm~ Guess I could use a break for once."
The onahole Baek Eunha stretches and stands. She'd been glued to the desk like a poltergeist 24/7, next to a pencil case or toilet paper roll, just waiting to get pounded. Honestly, I'm worried about her joints seizing up.
"Onahole, so pounding does no damage. Onahole, so no pounding means just rest? Holy shit... yeah, that tracks."
Unlike the others, Baek Eunha shows zero reaction during sex with me. She's an onahole, so my pleasure matters—hers doesn't. Unlike Mom or my sister, who get horny for me as women, she's purely an onahole. Just a tool fulfilling its duty by taking my dick.
...In a way, she's invincible. No attack vector.
"Hup. Hup. See? Even an onahole breaks down without loosening up now and then."
Baek Eunha makes the most of her unexpected downtime. Her long straight hair and glasses look especially intellectual today. She was probably an elite education major at Paradise University. And her elite endgame? My personal onahole.
"Master had friends back then, too."
"Still on that? Maybe I should toss you out. Useless onahole."
"Please don't. If Master discards me, the only place left is the incinerator."
She smiles like it's a hassle, but she knows I won't really ditch her. Intel-wise, she's top two among the women I've tuned up, tied with Park Jisoo.
"Who was it? Master's closest friend..."
The onahole reminisces about her teaching days, digging up memories.
"That smart kid gunning for med school who dropped out and went to New Zealand."
"Kim Minjae?"
"Yeah! Tall, skinny as a rail."
"Right, I remember. What about him?"
"Heard he came back to Korea. Contacted me recently."
"Hooh..."
My buddy—180cm tall but barely 55kg, nicknamed Gandhi. Aimed for Paradise University med school, quit in sophomore year, bounced to New Zealand. We were tight once. Went to his place a lot. His mom was stunning.
"Said he got his medical license in the States and plans to work here now."
"How do you know?"
"He reached out since I was his homeroom teacher."
"...Onahole privileges."
"I used to be a teacher."
"So? Wanna go back?"
"What are you talking about, Master? I'm your exclusive onahole."
Firm tone—past is past, now is now. She's cut ties with her old self.
"Anyway, he asked about you. 'How's Hoyoung doing these days?'"
"What'd you say?"
"Just that you're chilling at home. Not wrong, right?"
"........."
Baek Eunha hands over Kim Minjae's contact, hinting I should meet if interested. With one crucial addendum.
"Oh, and I met his mom. Unreal beauty—age-defying. Ex-swimmer, so her body's toned to perfection... Bet she's still swarmed by guys."
Ten years after leaving Korea at 18 with big dreams, Kim Minjae had returned home and was unpacking in his new nest. A luxury house in Paengchang-dong—fitting for an elite American med school grad.
One live-in: his mom. Dad divorced when he was little; no contact for ages.
"Paengchang-dong houses are all so grand. Must cost a fortune."
"Gotta live somewhere like this. Eyes are everywhere."
"Eyes? Mom, people here seem weirdly indifferent to others."
"They're all putting on airs. Judging inside."
His mom's ample breasts jiggled as she spoke primly. Sharp, haughty vibe at first glance, but drop-dead gorgeous. Her permed-short cut at the ends suited her small, round face perfectly.
"Just you and me—could've gone smaller..."
"Oh, you. Back from American med school, and we'd live shabby? What would people say!"
Kim Minjae knew his mom was hypersensitive to others' opinions. Pushed med school from elementary to avoid shame; when Paradise University was iffy, dragged him to New Zealand instead. Education zealot—no parent matched her. Meddled in his life, banned "bad influence" friends. Even as an adult, he couldn't stand up to her.
"Gonna wrap unpacking and head out, Mom."
"Why? Where? No booze."
Her glare shrank him instantly. Still treated like a high schooler—no backtalk possible.
"Meeting an old friend."
"Old friend? Who?"
"Gotta reconnect now that I'm back. Can't live solo."
"Don't contact just anyone. Only useful connections."
She was already networking via rumors.
"You hit up Teacher Baek Eunha, right?"
"Yeah, she was homeroom."
"Heard she married a doctor. Keep in touch—might help."
"Wasn't just using her."
"So? Who's this one?"
"Hoyoung."
"Hoyoung?"
Her brows furrowed instantly.
"What uni'd he go to?"
"Dunno."
"Job?"
"Unemployed."
"Don't meet."
She cut it off cold.
"Useless for your life."
"We were tightest in school, though."
"Meet a NEET sponging off parents? He'll hit you up for cash."
"Doesn't seem like it—he lives in Paengchang-dong too."
"What? ...How?"
"Close by, so why not meet?"
"Hmmm..."
Low-education, jobless. But Paengchang-dong resident—prime real estate. She'd strained finances hard to move here. Kim Minjae's mom, Oh Jeongyeon, weighed if the kid was a real asset or dead weight to chop.
"Fine, do this."
Decision made.
"Bring Mom along. I'll judge if he's worth it."
Worrier extraordinaire and son-obsessed housewife Oh Jeongyeon wouldn't rest without seeing for herself. To avoid underestimation, she'd doll up max pretty.