Class Reunion
After burying my dick between her tits for a paizuri and cumming one more time, her expressions finally settled. She was drenched in sweat, probably feeling sticky and gross, so she headed to the bathroom to wash up. When she came out, she seemed to have finally come back to her senses—sitting cross-legged on the bed with a dazed look, staring blankly at my dick.
"Wanna wash up?"
"Ah, yeah... thanks."
She slowly got up, staggering a bit as she went off to rinse off the sweat. I offered to help her, but she said she was fine and insisted on going alone. She took forever to come out, though. I could hear the water running the whole time. Do women always take this long to shower?
"Wonder if she wants something to drink."
She'd been moaning her head off earlier, so her throat had to be parched. Unfortunately, we'd been traveling so much lately that there wasn't much besides booze in the hotel room fridge—and all the bottles were sealed tight.
"Water it is, then."
I poured some bottled water into a glass and was getting it ready when the bathroom door finally opened. Out came the ajumma, her body still damp but mostly toweled off, her hair wrapped up snugly. Wrapped up like that, she actually looked pretty cute.
"Here, have all the water."
"Ah, thanks."
She took the glass and chugged it down, then started picking up her scattered clothes from the floor and slowly getting dressed. Watching her undress was one thing, but seeing her dress herself was just as good. Having me help her into them wouldn't be bad either, though.
"Sorry for showing up out of nowhere and causing you all this trouble."
She seemed to have calmed down now, back to her usual vibe after that orgasm. I shook my head as I looked at her.
"Nah, don't worry about it. I had a good time too."
It was definitely late for check-out by now, but whatever. It wasn't like we were staying at the hotel just one or two nights anyway.
"Heading home soon?"
I asked, noticing her hesitant fidgeting.
"Ah, yeah. Gotta go sometime."
"If you hate it that much, just divorce the guy."
I said it casually, like it was his problem, not mine. But if she hated him this much, why drag it out? Life was long—eighty more years ahead. No point forcing it with someone you despise. Even good couples fight sometimes.
"It's not that easy. My parents still think we're doing great, and breaking the news everywhere would be tough. But no parent wants their daughter suffering."
"It'd hurt them more if you kept suffering like this."
She stared at me intently.
"Sorry if I'm overstepping."
I hadn't said much, but I apologized anyway, feeling like I'd poked my nose in where it didn't belong. Truth was, it wasn't my business at all. I'd just been there to satisfy her urges.
Or at least, that's how I saw it. But thinking about it that way felt kinda weird. Ahem.
"No, it's fine. I'll think about it more. And if I end up divorcing my husband... mind giving me one more round?"
I nodded. No skin off my back. If anything, I was grateful. A married woman turning single meant no more sneaking around.
We swapped phone numbers, exchanged light goodbyes, and I watched her retreating back as she left.
"She seems a bit lighter now, at least."
Better than being pent-up with frustration, for sure. This might even be the spark that leads her to divorce soon. Whatever happened, if she called, we'd fuck; if not, I'd forget about it. Easy.
"Guess I should head out too."
Back from the trip and wiped from the sex, exhaustion hit me hard. All I wanted was to crash in the hotel bed, sleep it off, and recharge.
"Ah... where the hell am I?"
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. Looking around, nothing looked familiar—not the furniture, not the layout. Did I get kidnapped or something? I bolted upright.
"Right, the hotel."
Phew, just a normal hotel room. No big deal.
"Ughhh, slept like a rock..."
I stretched long and hard, twisting my body every which way. Fatigue was gone, and I felt light on my feet. Nothing beats a solid sleep when you're beat.
On a whim, I snapped a photo and sent it to Yoonah with a message.
"Alright, time for some food?"
Eating alone sounded lonely, so I decided to call up the guys for drinks. I fired off a text to the friend group chat, and replies poured in almost instantly.
It'd been ages since we'd bantered like this—felt pretty good. Then one message jumped out at me.