A Hell Worth Dying For
I had no choice but to twitch my lower half. With my cock standing stiff as a board, staying perfectly still was impossible. Until the moment I flipped over, I was stuck cradling a ticking time bomb—I had to get this rigid thing to settle down first. The second I turned and the towel pitched a tent, I was completely fucked...
The moment Lee Yeondo saw Shin Iseol press her chest against me, she made a point of pressing her own upper body just as blatantly against my back. And she didn’t forget the line.
“How is it, Junhyun-ssaem? Feel good?”
“Don’t people usually ask if it feels refreshing at times like this?”
“Junhyun-ssaem. Be honest when it’s like this. Tell me the right side I’m working on feels better.”
“No, I mean, usually at times like this… Look, both sides are fine. And it feels refreshing. Whether it feels good or not… I mean, I don’t even get why you’re asking if it feels good.”
“I see. So it’s more about the visual than the touch? Junhyun-ssaem must be the type who’s sensitive to what he can see.”
“Then the second he flips over, his eyes will go to my side first. Someone’s a total cling-on, after all…”
“Wh-what are you talking about? Men almost always look at the pretty-faced girl first.”
“You really don’t know anything. Liking pretty faces ends in the early twenties. Once you’re past the late twenties, you instinctively start looking at the body—didn’t you know that?”
“Haa? Have you ever seen me naked? My chest might be whatever, but the rest of me is pretty toned, you know?”
“H-hey… could we maybe tone down the sensitive topics a little…”
Even after that, the two of them kept sniping at each other while shifting positions, perching their hips on the edge of the bed. Then they each rested one of my arms across their knees and started massaging. First they soaked everything in oil. They laced their fingers carefully through every joint of my hands, working them gently. Having both sensitive hands touched at once from either side made the pleasure start climbing like crazy.
My bare arms were resting on bare thighs, and before I knew it I was comparing whose thighs felt smoother.
The leg sensation was definitely better on Yeondo’s side. She was tall enough that her thighs could have been thick, but they were slender and smooth, stretching out in a clean straight line. Not that Iseol’s side was a disaster. She was short, yet her thighs had a bit more flesh to them—not soft and jiggly, more like healthy firmness. There was muscle under the surface, springy and taut.
I was holding a different woman’s hand in each of mine. And it was that intimate kind of interlaced fingers. Interlaced fingers are always right.
Come to think of it, as someone who’d never had a proper relationship, this was my first time interlocking fingers with a woman. And somehow I was getting that first experience from two different women at the exact same time. Maybe I’d saved a country in a past life.
Once they’d finished oiling my arms, both women moved down toward my thighs.
Like they were racing through an assignment, each took one leg and started spreading oil in her own style. Iseol rubbed it in with her hands the same way she’d done my back, while Yeondo climbed right up onto my thigh, clamped it tight between her own legs to pin it in place, and worked the oil in that way. Spurred on by the sight, Iseol lifted my other leg onto her knee, leaned her upper body as far forward as she could, and pressed her chest against me again.
This place was an endless hell of war. A hell packed with endless competition, endless decadence, and endless pleasure.
If a hell like this actually existed, I’d kill myself right now just to go there.
Two women with completely different strengths were going all out, desperate to be chosen by me.
Once they’d finished oiling my legs, both of them spoke at the exact same time, neither waiting for the other.
“I’ll oil up the butt area.”
Hands carefully slipped under the towel and began gently rubbing the round cheeks of my ass. Four hands dug in and started working the oil into a slick mess right alongside my arms.
Unlike Iseol’s neat, careful touches, Yeondo openly grabbed and squeezed, deliberately provoking me. This was the same Yeondo who’d texted her friends right in front of me that she wanted to have sex with me. In Iseol’s case, she’d collapsed in bliss after I massaged her, so she’d already tasted my special ability. Yeondo, though, was looking at me purely as a man looking at a woman—a slightly special case. Or maybe she just saw me as a sexual outlet. Either way, I really hoped they’d keep holding this exact pose. My heart was always open, after all.
Apparently sensing Yeondo’s hands squishing around under the towel, Iseol spoke up, clearly annoyed.
“Who’s groping such a sensitive area like that? Is this a seedy massage parlor?”
“Seedy? This is a proper massage. If anything, treating the butt like some sensitive zone and getting all shy about it looks weirder.”
“Wh-what!”
Whether she was convinced by Yeondo’s words or not, Iseol immediately started squishing and massaging my ass herself. She worked it even more firmly than the blatant Yeondo, her fingers reaching all the way into the teasing cleft. Clearly she’d massaged women’s butts before—once she got going, she was genuinely good at it. The way she lightly scraped her nails over the flesh of my cheeks sent shivers racing straight up my spine.
Then, under the towel, their hands brushed against each other.
The moment Yeondo felt her territory being invaded, she spoke up fast.
“We agreed not to cross the butt crack, remember?”
“I didn’t cross the crack. I was just oiling the area right between it.”
“Oh? You were acting all shy and awkward until a second ago, and now you’re bold. So whose territory is the middle, then?”
“The middle? What middle?”
“Between the crack, and between the legs underneath.”
Iseol seemed to choke on her words, stammering.
“N-no. I-I mean… why do we even have to divide that? We’re n-not going to touch it anyway.”
“Then I can do it, right? Between the legs and the crack.”
“Wh-what! Th-that’s not allowed. That kind of thing…!”
“Why not?”
“Th-that’s ridiculous.”
“You’ve never done a male groin massage, have you? You’re not touching the genitals—you press the lymph nodes that run between the legs. Ahh~ so you really don’t know.”
“Kh… ah…”
Iseol’s next words came out muffled.
“What was that?”
“Ah, teach…”
“Pardon?”
“Teach me. How do you do it?”
“Hey…”
I tried to mediate by lifting my upper body, but both of them snapped at once.
“Stay still!”
Crazy women. This is my body. Why are you treating me like some science experiment and testing things out while I’m just lying here?
Of course it felt good. It felt great, but watching two women huddle near my asshole whispering about what to touch and whose territory was whose was… a little humiliating, I guess.
“First we pour the oil, right? If we drizzle it into the butt crack, it’ll run down between the thong and reach that spot.”
“Th-then should we move the towel?”
“Sh-should we? That would probably be better, right?”
No, why are you two deciding that among yourselves?
They pulled the towel aside and poured warm oil in a thick stream. Then Yeondo’s hand settled on the soft spot between my asshole and balls. Her fingers carefully avoided every major part and pressed down with firm pressure.
Ah, but isn’t this basically sexual contact? There was no direct pleasure on the dick itself, yet it was teasingly electric, sending shivers everywhere.
“You do it like this… and like this… It’s supposed to be great for a man’s stamina. When the blocked lymph opens up, circulation improves and blood flow gets better, they say.”
“Ah… I see. Uh, but I think it brushed something just now. D-down below… nn…”
“It can brush against things for a second. It’s just accidental, no big deal.”
“Ah…”
In reality, Yeondo’s pressing hand lightly grazed my balls. The moist, soft sensation made heat surge through me; my cock swelled and stiffened until, just like Choi Wonjae after his erectile dysfunction was cured, I had to twist one leg and lift my hips off the table.
“Oh my.”
“See the reaction right away? That’s the good blood flow.”
“S-so that means it worked? An e-erection?”
“That’s… right? Junhyun-ssaem really is healthy. The second you press, he reacts. Like a doorbell or something.”
“Wahaha! A d-doorbell! Waha… that’s actually hilarious, Yeondo-ssaem.”
When the snacks and soju are good, conversation blooms even between awkward people. With my lower half as the topic, the two of them kept cracking up and building a surprisingly good mood.
“Haa…”
When I let out a heavy breath, both of them seemed to sober up a little and fell quiet. They must have suddenly realized just how embarrassing what they were doing actually was.
They covered me with the towel again, moved down to my feet, and worked diligently. Getting both feet pressed at once felt so refreshing that the stiffness in my cock gradually eased and returned to normal.
They’d gotten friendly enough by now that Iseol taught Yeondo a few techniques, and Yeondo learned them straight and copied them exactly.
“Whew, shall we do the front now?”
I was too embarrassed to look either of them in the face, but I forced myself to think of it as practice for the VIP massage later and flipped over.
This was a body that had never exercised in its life. A flat chest and a belly with a bit of soft flesh. I’d shown it to Yeondo before, but this was Iseol’s first time seeing it.
Their eyes went to completely different places. Yeondo glanced briefly at my crotch before shifting her gaze to my face, while Iseol was staring straight at my nipples. Damn it.
“Where are you looking?”
“Ah, no… I just thought, so men don’t cover those up.”
“Manager Iseol’s never massaged a man before, that’s why. Some guys do cover them, but most men don’t.”
“I see. But the color is really pretty. Almost like it has a pinkish tint.”
“In technical terms, we call that pink-nip.”
“Pink-nip… so men have pink-nips too.”
“My ex-boyfriend had pink-nips and it actually gave me an inferiority complex. His chest was prettier than mine.”
“Pfft! Tell me the details later.”
“Sure, hehe.”
Who am I? Where is this? What the hell am I listening to right now?
Why did it feel like the two of them had teamed up to mess with me, the complete opposite of how things started? I’d originally set this time up because I wanted to get closer to Yeondo, and somehow I’d ended up building a bridge between the two of them instead.
The massage started again. Despite the friendly atmosphere, the competition was still very much alive. While laughing and chatting, they began doing little things to get chosen without making it obvious. Earlier it had been open warfare; now it was a cold war.
Iseol, handling my upper body, would brush her fingers lightly over my nipples while oiling my chest, or rest her hand casually on my knee while massaging my arms. Yeondo massaged around my hips under the towel and let her hands drift a little farther inward.
Thinking about it, the situation was pure bliss. And at the same time, pure torment.
If I pitch a tent I’m fucked. If I pitch a tent I’m fucked. If I pitch a tent I’m fucked. If I pitch a tent I’m fucked.
Iseol started massaging my stomach, and she leaned so far forward that her breasts were right in front of my eyes. Every time she moved, they swayed just a little.
Ha, this is driving me crazy.
Not to be outdone, Yeondo spoke up.
“Could you spread your legs a little?”
“Y-yes? Wh-why?”
“I need to do the groin massage on this side too.”
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes.”
A firm answer. I had no choice but to open my legs. The moment I did, a hand slipped right into the space between them and kneaded the valley connecting my thigh to my crotch. This time it felt genuinely refreshing. Not the weirdly teasing sensation from before—just pure relief. Like waste was being flushed out from deep inside.
Then Iseol one-upped her.
“Oh. I want to learn that too—can you show me?”
“Then we’d have to remove the towel.”
“…”
Both of them looked at my face at the same time.
“Ah… is this a question I have to answer?”
“Um… probably?”
“No. Absolutely not. No way.”
Even though I refused stubbornly, Iseol spoke in a pleading tone.
“Please. I really want to learn male groin massage. Okay? I’m begging you.”
“What are you even going to use that for? All our clients are women!”
“I’m sure it’ll come in handy someday~ You never know with people.”
“She’s right. Just think of it as Junhyun-ssaem doing us a favor and take the towel off.”
Then why did you even ask me?
My face burning, I said,
“F-fine, but… even if something embarrassing happens, no commenting. No whispering like earlier, and no bringing it up after this session either!”
“Hehe, deal. I promise.”
“I promise too!”
The second those words left their mouths, I grabbed the towel and flung it onto the floor.
The moment my embarrassingly bare crotch, barely covered by the thong, was exposed, both women’s gazes locked onto it like hawks.