Can I Fuck Your Mom? (2)
Oh Jeongyeon hadn't always been the strict, uptight mother who kept her son on a tight leash from the start. On the contrary, she was more the type who endlessly indulged his whims and tantrums, always wishing for him to "just grow up healthy." The turning point that changed the endlessly kind Oh Jeongyeon came with her divorce from her husband.
Her husband, a bank branch manager, had blindly trusted a friend at a securities firm and plunged into futures options trading, only to go completely bankrupt. They sold off their house, the forest land in her son's name, and even downgraded to a cheap compact car, but the debts still wouldn't clear. In the end, the husband irresponsibly fled, and the divorce dragged on for years. The wounds and humiliation from that time transformed Oh Jeongyeon into a different person.
She kept hearing how people she thought were friends suddenly turned cold, refusing to meet her and even gossiping gleefully about her downfall. Having retired from competitive swimming and lived solely as a housewife, Oh Jeongyeon rose again with only her son in mind. "If I collapse, my son's life goes down the drain too. I'll raise Minjae to succeed—no one will ever look down on him!"
Thanks to her husband, she'd learned all too well how miserable life becomes without money. Oh Jeongyeon gritted her teeth, reborn as a new woman. She couldn't afford to be just a soft, kind mom anymore. For her son's sake, she had to toughen up and bite down hard. To avoid being looked down on, she learned makeup techniques from scratch and, even while liquidating assets, clung desperately to her luxury clothes. That's when the habit started: monitoring her son 24/7 to keep his grades in check and ensure he didn't stray.
If Korean med school was too tough, then America it was—she somehow got him into a U.S. medical school. Even after he returned to Korea, she poured every last penny into settling in Paengchang-dong, all to mind what others thought. She feared the gossip if they lived in some shabby studio apartment. Backbiting and rumors were trauma triggers for her.
Now her son was a doctor, and she just needed to live proudly, boasting about him to everyone. Twenty years after her husband's midnight run... she'd somehow made it this far as a single woman. But she couldn't relax yet. Her son had only studied; he didn't know the ways of the world. He lacked the wisdom to distinguish who could help him and who might hinder. Even childhood friends needed to be cut off around age 30.
Kim Hoyoung... She vaguely remembered meeting him a few times. Just an ordinary, well-behaved kid. Back then, he was her son's closest friend. His little sister was a straight-A student, right? But his own grades were middling at best... and apparently, college entrance didn't go well. Currently unemployed? High chance he was useless networking for Minjae.
Still... living in ritzy Paengchang-dong piqued her curiosity, so she decided to meet him herself. Won the lottery? Or maybe... those trendy coins? Stocks were booming—did he cash in? Not just anyone could... Anyway, she'd find out once they met.
"To succeed in Korea, connections matter, dear. Contact the people you know now that you're back." Those were Mom's first words upon landing in Korea. Kim Minjae mumbled agreement and brushed it off.
He'd pushed through his stubborn "I want to work in Korea, open a practice here—not America" and felt proud enough. No more fights with Mom. She didn't know: he had hardly anyone to call. Under her constant surveillance, he'd never joined kids playing from childhood. If friends invited him and Mom said no, he'd go home and do workbooks.
His social circle was tiny. Plus, maybe he'd picked up Mom's habit of ranking everyone—constantly comparing and sorting by status. The difference? Mom mingled with elites to protect her pride; Minjae found comfort looking down at those worse off.
"What's... uh, Hoyoung up to these days? Hmm... just hanging at home... I guess? Job? Probably... none? Girlfriend? Nah... probably not."
In that sense, Kim Hoyoung was perfect for boosting his ego. Teacher confirmed by phone: no job, no girlfriend... average looks, average height. Zero triggers for Minjae's inferiority complex. So he instantly accepted the "let's meet" from his old pal.
'Perfect timing—I need someone like this to think, "I'm still okay..."' Bringing Mom along wasn't bad either. He wanted her to see a classmate worse off than him, feel superior. Compare doctor-him to unemployed Hoyoung, earn her approval. That'd lift this stifling mood.
Kim Minjae headed to the meeting spot at Nakwon Station's plaza with his mom.
"I don't understand why I have to leave, Master."
"Just go."
"Please explain why, Master."
Meeting time was almost here, and I was arguing with Isia sunbae in the plaza. Needed to ditch her quick... she'd followed me from home, making a fuss.
"Fine, I'll explain. First—what's in your right hand?"
"? My sword, Kunitora."
"Yeah. That's a real blade, right?"
"Yes."
"I don't wanna bring a girl with a real sword to meet a friend."
"But! What if someone targets you, Master! A kitchen knife or box cutter won't easily sever a neck!"
Is this Suriname? Don't underestimate South Korean public safety. No one's targeting some random guy chilling with a friend in the plaza.
"That bat bitch Bianca attacked you last time!"
"That bat bitch is hearing every word from my shadow right now. See? If anything happens, Bianca's got me. Anyway, go home."
"Ugh..."
Isia was resisting my hypnosis. Her "must protect him" obsession came from hypnosis too, so it was clashing—building resistance. Had to convince her verbally.
"Second reason you gotta go: you're my high school sunbae, right?"
"Yes..."
"That means you're Minjae's sunbae too."
"I don't know that guy."
"He'll know you. You were famous."
The school idol everyone loved, student council president Isia sunbae.
"I wanna hang quietly with my friend. It's been ages. So go home."
"If that guy tries to harm you..."
"You're so clingy. Isia sunbae... keep this up, and I'll issue a strong command—"
"Hey! Hoyoung! It's Minjae! Long time no see!"
Couldn't shoo her off—friend arrived. Isia gripped Kunitora like an enemy appeared. Overkill for a skinny guy with BMI under 17; no need for a real sword.
"Whoa... long time, Gandhi."
"You know? They called me Gandhi in New Zealand too."
Truly a global icon. Or everywhere's the same. Anyway, seeing skinny beanpole Minjae just like memory was nostalgic. We hugged hotly, eyeing each other's companions. Me at the short-haired beauty, him glancing at Isia sunbae.
"Huh...? Wait."
Minjae instantly recognized the school's most famous girl.
"Isn't that Isia sunbae? Why's she with you?"
"Uh... long story."
"No no, hold on."
Minjae's face paled as he fumbled his phone.
"When I was in school in the U.S., sunbae was on the news. She's a Real Doll, right? Big fuss about 'human fan Real Doll'—why's she here? Should I report this?"
"Hey, chill."
I closed his phone.
"It's all settled. Lawsuits dropped, officially bought from maker Blackstars. So Isia sunbae's my Real Doll."
"What? No way. Real Dolls are insanely expensive. Cheapest is over 10 billion won—you bought one?"
"Yeah. It happened."
"You hit... crypto jackpot?"
Crypto? Never touched investments—real estate, coins, stocks, lotto, nada.
"How'd you afford a pricey Real Doll then?"
"We'll talk details later..."
More pressing: the woman openly scanning me.
"And who's this? Looks familiar..."
"Don't you remember? My mom."
"Oh."
Right. Name... Oh Jeongyeon? Hadn't aged a day. Insanely youthful even sans makeup. Ex-swimmer: zero flab visible through clothes, toned body crystal clear. Breasts as big as Mom's, but widest hips among women I knew. Athletic training?
"Auntie. Long time."
"Yes, long time. What've you been up to? Unemployed for real?"
"Mom. No need to ask so bluntly."
"Minjae, be quiet. Auntie’s just curious. Hoyoung, you're grown—wondering how you make ends meet."
Memories flooded. High school visits to Minjae's: Oh Jeongyeon always grilled my grades. Chilling glare post-low scores hit me.
"Our Minjae got his U.S. medical license and'll open a practice here. Don't know why you contacted him, but he's not as idle as you—please restrain yourself from now on."
"Mom. No need to say it that harshly..."
Sigh. Yeah... I remembered. This calculating bitch who'd grade and discriminate even her son's friends... those arrogant lips, jiggling tits, slim waist, flared hips, and the secret pussy hidden between her thighs...
...I really wanted to fuck her.