Sena Jerks Me Off ♥♥

"Well. I suppose that's fair."

Her feelings were written all over her face.

The look of someone itching to repay a favor. If I had been careless enough to say it's fine, don't worry about it, that hopelessly shy girl would have bolted without a second thought.

I answered with deliberate vagueness and met her eyes, as if to say: go on, spit out whatever you've been rehearsing.

"If... if that's okay with you, I could, um... use my hand?"

Before long, she spoke up, her face flushed red.

Her hand, huh.

Yeah. Fine. Sure.

"Would you?"

It'd be nicer if she went gentler, but a hand from her? I'd take it.

Holding her gaze, I nodded and stretched both legs out flat. The cock I'd kept hidden between my legs sprang upright, pointing at the ceiling.

"Please don't look at... that part."

"Oh. Should I not?"

"Yes. It's a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠little embarrassing..."

The gall of this woman—handing me her pussy and still acting shy about it.

And I'm the one who caused that hallucination of hers, too.

I wonder what she'd do if I told her that the cock that knocked her flat that night was this very one in her hand right now.

I turned my head away, picturing the look of pure, trembling shock that would take over her face.

Her hand wrapped around my slick, soaked shaft.

"Uh—I'm kind of worked up, so I'm gonna cum fast. You can go hard."

"Okay..."

The moment the words left my mouth, regret washed over me.

I'd just thrown away my time with her with my own two lips.

Quickly, I followed up with a patch job—talk that would keep her engaged, keep her from concentrating too hard on the handjob.

"So what's the verdict? Hallucination? Dream? Or do you think it was actually real?"

"It definitely felt real. But if it was real, things get way more complicated. My whole situation..."

"Right. If it's real, that's even weirder."

"Exactly. My head's a mess now."

"Mmh... hh..."

Before long, her grip trembled at the tip.

Her hand gliding over the ridged shaft of my cock—it felt so soft I could almost believe I was still buried inside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her pussy.

It was just the leftover juices smeared across my cock making it slick, but the sensation of her hand alone made my entire lower body ache and throb.

Her unbroken slickness rang out in wet, squelching, filthy sounds.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

As I asked, swallowing down the moans that kept trying to escape, her hand slowed again.

That slow, lazy stroke actually felt better, honestly.

I could feel every tiny shift of her palm against my skin.

"Just curious, that's all. You've done it now, right? Which feels better—touching yourself, or penetration? Just in terms of how it feels."

"I—I don't masturbate..."

The girl caught at the edge of my vision hung her head.

Oh, playing the proper lady now, is she.

Like there's a woman alive who doesn't touch herself.

Then again, I'd never once in my life heard a woman admit to it either.

Not believing her for a second, I nodded along to her anyway.

"Do you do it a lot, oppa?"

And there it was—she'd turned the tables on me.

"Yeah."

I kept my nodding nod going.

At that, the hand around my shaft sped up.

"Then... you must be used to it, so I should probably go harder, right?"

"Yeah. Oh, right—we're all going on the family trip next month, yeah?"

"Mm-hm. Of course we are."

Squelch, squelch, schlick.

The lewder the sounds grew, the faster my own breathing came.

I'd thrown out another topic to keep her from focusing too hard, but the load already pooling heavy in my groin refused to be talked away.

Almost the instant she finished answering, my hips lifted off the bed.

"Nghh—I-it's coming, out of nowhere—hh!"

"What?! What do I do—uh?!"

Splat! Splat!

And I came.

Thick ropes flew like missiles, splattering messily across her face, her breasts, both arms, all the way down to her thighs.

Then what remained on my shaft dribbled down over the back of her fist, still wrapped tight around it.

"Ah, sorry. It hit me out of nowhere."

"Oh. It's okay."

When I finally turned my head back, there she was—caked head to toe in my cum.

One shot had caught her right across the eye, and she could barely keep it open.

That obscenely erotic sight made the freshly drained cock between my legs jerk back to half-mast and twitch.

"Please clean me up."

"Yeah. Go wash off quick."

"Okay."

Before long, the ejaculate trailing down the bridge of her nose reached her lips.

Naturally, it slipped right into her talking mouth and clung to her tongue.

I wanted to savor the sight a little longer, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but no excuse to keep holding her came to mind.

"So. Why are you looking for someone?"

"She's my first love..."

"HAHAHAHA! Even a two-bit punk like you's got a soft spot, huh?"

A short while later, at the loan shark's office. Turns out they don't just handle lending and running arcades—they also do people-finding on the side.

Remembering that, I'd gone straight to the office and put in a request—to find the noona who'd made my boyish heart flutter all those years ago.

"Yeah. You can find her?"

"Sure can, kid. But you got money?"

"How much?"

"Fifteen hundred up front. If the legwork drags on, expenses might run a bit higher."

"Fifteen... hundred?"

"A hundred and fifty grand, kid."

"Ah. I've got it."

"Then give me everything you know."

"Nineteen years ago there was a small-to-midsize company called Ango Fashion. She's the owner's daughter. Name's Yoon Seona. She'd be thirty-five now."

"Huh. Well. Shouldn't be too hard."

"I'll transfer the money."

"Right. Get lost."

It was money I'd stolen from their own arcade anyway. I couldn't have cared less what the fee came to.

With the request settled, I headed straight back to my officetel.

Her spring was still lingering in that room.

"That bitch. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠If she'd stayed with me longer, I'd have wrung a lot more out of her. Blew my own fortune, though. What can you do."

I was wallowing in the loss, cracking the window open for some fresh air, when—

Goddammit. The indoor-smoking bastard next door.

A thick cloud of cigarette stink rolled in and wiped out the scent of spring.

He pulled this a few days ago too.

Maybe it's time I got a good look at his face.

I headed straight for the door.

"KYAAH!"

Oh, now what.

The moment I stepped out the door—

Between one blink and the next, wondering if my eyes had deceived me—

a girl in a bikini, mid-way through grabbing a package off the doorstep, let out a full-throated scream.

I turned my head away.

Thud.

Her door slammed shut.

What the... hell. She's actually adorable. Dammit.

The anger the cigarette stink had whipped up went out like a snuffed candle.

An indoor smoker on the left. An exhibitionist in a bikini on the right.

Whoever picked this location for me did a hell of a job.

Still, though. She really is pretty.

Twintails tied up cute, cheeks still carrying a soft layer of baby fat.

Skin so pale it looked like she'd never once felt direct sunlight, and a face as innocent as could be—nothing like her outfit.

And then there was—

Not Sena-level, granted, but a heavy, heaving chest that stood in comical contrast to that cute face.

The more I thought about it, the closer she came to the perfect woman.

Before I knew it, I found myself creeping toward her door.

What's she saying?

Murmuring filtered out from inside. I pressed my ear against the door.

"You guys scared me, popping out like that!"

"Hm? Is the guy next door handsome?"

"Yeah! He's tall AND he's got a handsome face. But I did NOT fall for him, thank you very much!"

"You're saying if you open the door right now, he'll still be standing there? Why? Because of you?"

"Open the door again and I'll give you ten thousand won? No way! What if he's actually there!"

"Hm? Fifty thousand won? Well... maybe just a peek, then?"

Oh. So she's a cam girl.

Back when I was in my prime as an unemployed bum—though, well, I still am one—there was a stretch where I fell head over heels for female streamers and did nothing but watch broadcasts all day.

I blew every last cent of my allowance from Dad on one of them, and when my donations finally dried up, all I got in return was that frosty little voice: "Oppa. So you don't like me anymore?"

I cut off every stream after that, hollowed out and sick of it all.

And now this girl goes and tests my instincts all over again.

"KYAAH!"

Just as I'd drifted off into that little trip down memory lane—

she actually opened the door again.

"Oh, sorry! I dropped the money!"

"KYAAH!"

Thud.

What the... damn.

She thought fast, I'll give her that—but she still just shrieked and slammed the door in my face again.

Fucking hell, they were bouncing. That little bitch. And it was hot as hell.

Even in the chaos, I'd gotten an eyeful of her tits.

White flesh so fair you could trace the blue veins beneath it, swaying beautifully before my eyes.

I should have frozen time right then and there.

Dry regret scraped down my throat with a swallow.

Should I call out to her?

No.

Climb in through the window?

No.

First things first—find out who she is.

After a moment's deliberation, I turned right back around and headed for my room.

Then I trawled every streaming platform there was until I found her broadcast.

"Ugh. She's got clothes on."

A surprisingly wholesome stream.

I'd fully expected a nude broadcast, obviously.

She was showing off a swimsuit she'd bought for a trip next week—apparently she'd only put it on briefly, caving to donation pressure.

"Some people just can't recognize a good thing. She's adorable."

Sixty-four viewers.

At some point she'd quietly changed back into regular clothes, and was now talking about her run-in with me just moments ago.

Hm, twenty-one, huh... nice.

I started combing through the small text plastered on the screen.

The weight was a guaranteed lie, but the age was probably real.

Plus she had a filter on, making her even prettier in person—er, on screen.

Come to think of it, her viewer count wasn't even that low compared to other streams.

For a weekday afternoon broadcast, she was actually holding her own pretty well.

With her stream running, I settled in and started getting to know her.

And before long—

I fired off two hundred thousand won from the balance sitting pretty in my account.

She shot up out of her seat, eyes gone wide with what looked like even greater shock than she'd shown in the hallway.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH! Human48759 oppa! What reaction should I do?!"

Her face said she'd never received a donation this big in her life.

Warm pride flooding through my chest, I fired off another hundred thousand right on the spot.

Then I told her to write her name with her ass.

She stared, dumbfounded, at the screen as the donation balloon popped once more—then quickly gathered herself and whipped around.

"Oppa! My name is Hayoon!"

Probably a stage name, sure.

But she started tracing that name into the air for me.

Plump, ripe hips that looked watered and ready.

Her ass pushed back full-out, straining the denim of her jeans taut as a drum as it swung through the air, stroke by stroke.

That'd make an incredible assjob, though...

[How much do I gotta donate to get a meal with you?]

Unable to hold back at the sight of her, I shot my shot right there in the chat.

And before long—

she finished her reaction and checked my comment.

"A meal?"

At the same time, her brow furrowed hard.