How Does Brother Namgung Know About MILF Spring Pictures…?
Whether I should call it fortunate or not, I still wasn’t so far gone that I was in heat, begging anyone nearby to mix flesh with me.
But looking at it the other way…
I won’t beg for it myself… but if the other person suggested it…?
Offers I would never have accepted before—
—like slipping into a secluded back alley to share a little passion—
I felt I might now accept with only a show of reluctance.
Haa… this is dangerous…
Click, click—
Fighting desperately to keep my composure, I managed about two and a half steps of shaky walking. It took longer than usual, but thankfully I reached the familiar building without any major accidents.
It was the book-rental shop I had been frequenting ever since coming to Hwangju.
Bang—
“Welcome—”
“Ah, h-hello…?”
I had fretted the whole way over whether the clerk I knew would be shocked by my outfit. Yet when he saw the skirt he neither jumped, asked why I was cross-dressing, nor gave me a strange look. He simply greeted me as if nothing were amiss, which left me feeling oddly betrayed.
I’ve been coming here nearly a month and we even chat sometimes. Isn’t that a little too indifferent…?
Pointing it out would only brand me a problem customer, so I swallowed the hurt and unfolded the note Brother Namgung had given me listing the books to borrow.
“Hmm, Honey Husband Spring Pictures…?”
I had wondered what he would send me for. Spring pictures, huh. From the title it sounded like one of those currently popular “MILF” collections—erotic paintings of voluptuous mature ladies.
“Brother Namgung’s tastes are… ahem.”
Of all the books to make me fetch…
Since things had come to this, I decided to take a peek at the ladies’ spring-picture book he had specifically ordered me to borrow. I walked over to the shelf of erotic collections and found Honey Husband Spring Pictures.
“Hehe, a spring-picture book important enough for Brother Namgung to send me on an errand—let’s see—”
Grinning at the thought of teasing him later, I opened the volume and began flipping through.
A few pages in, a precise illustration drawn and colored not with brush but with pencil caught my eye—clearly modeled on a real person. Yet far from any lady, the figure on the page was…
“Ugh…!”
A handsome man, completely naked, rendered across two full pages.
“Wow…”
A small sound escaped me unbidden.
Honey Husband Spring Pictures was not erotica featuring ladies at all. It was a collection aimed at female buyers, filled with handsome, well-built men worthy of the characters for “honey” and “husband”—a gallery of honey husbands.
“Gulp…”
Ordinarily I would have closed the book, rented it, and returned to the inn to finish the errand. But something was… different now.
Swallowing hard, my hand moved toward the book as if suspended by an invisible puppeteer’s strings. Fingers approached the illustrated man, first brushing that firm chest, then the six-pack abs… and finally, very slowly, the fully erect… manhood.
It’s huge…
Looking at the size of the handsome man’s cock in the picture, the thing locked inside my chastity belt felt less like a penis and more like the clit I had glimpsed on a gisaeng.
“Huu…”
While I exhaled a lukewarm sigh and studied the shape and texture of the drawn shaft, the familiar sensation returned: my cock trying to harden only to be stopped cold by the chastity belt.
After that sigh… an image flashed through my mind of myself kneeling before the man in the illustration and pressing a kiss to his cock.
Lick—
Startled by the fantasy yet unable to stop, I unconsciously flicked my tongue out and wet my lips. It was a lewd vision that recalled the oral sex I had committed with Young Hero Geungwang at the Special Teahouse.
Imagining myself taking that thick cock deep into my throat, begging for his seed while bobbing my head, made the act with a man play out ever more vividly.
“Gulp…”
Soon the man’s hand seized my head and forced it flush against his groin, flooding the depths of my throat with sticky white fluid; my own saliva slid down my throat in answer.
Lost in the filthy fantasy, I absently rubbed myself over the skirt, but the damned chastity belt performed its duty as faithfully as ever, blocking any erection. All my hand felt was the hard shell of the device.
“Huuu… I wanna come…”
I mumbled in a mosquito-thin voice, still rubbing. Unlike the cruel reality that I could never climax alone, the dirty imagination refused to stop.
A tiny remaining scrap of myself deep inside demanded I escape this lewd dream… yet against the lust that already ruled most of my mind, that cry was far too weak. My heart refused to leave the fantasy of its own accord.
“Huu…”
I sighed softly and sank back in. Now the man from the picture pulled his cock—slick with spit and cum—from my mouth and pressed it between my ass cheeks. He rubbed the head against my rear entrance, then slowly pushed all the way in.
The plug filling my hole made it feel as though that massive cock truly existed inside me, yet it still fell short of Young Hero Geungwang or the gisaeng’s wooden phallus, leaving me faintly disappointed.
“Haa, haa, ha…”
…Back in the fantasy, he whispered, “You’re my bitch,” while thrusting rapidly inside my belly. The pace quickened; the wet slap of hips against ass rang in my ears. At last he exploded within me and something hot began to fill my stomach—
Bzzzzt—
“…Oghuh?!”
The vibrating plug jolted me out of the dream. I exhaled, then closed the book.
“…Haa…. Let’s go back…”
I meant to leave the shelf and pay for the rental, but a small puddle on the floor caught my eye.
Ah…
Don’t tell me that came from me…?
I wanted to deny it, yet the clear liquid pooled exactly where I had stood was unmistakable proof: precum I had leaked while staring at the naked man in the spring-picture book and spinning filthy fantasies.
I must be crazy…
Even if he is handsome, to look at a man’s bare body and imagine that…
Once I noticed, I realized the plug constantly stimulating my hole and prostate had already soaked the front of my thin underclothes. Wearing a skirt instead of trousers, there was no way to stop the precum from overflowing the fabric and dripping onto the floor.
I could hardly confess to the clerk, “I was looking at dirty pictures, imagining sex with a man, and leaked love juice.”
S-sorry, clerk…
I won’t have dirty thoughts next time…!
Ashamed of my own outrageous behavior, I silently apologized, borrowed the book, and left the shop. Then, still tormented by the plug’s vibrations and electric jolts, I shuffled back toward the inn.
When I returned to the inn and handed Brother Namgung the spring-picture collection, he gave me the rental fee plus an extra silver coin.
“I had you borrow it for you to look at in the first place. The coin is your errand fee.”
“Ah, thank you…!”
Pocket money was always welcome; I accepted book and coin gratefully. As I turned to head to my room, Brother Namgung—corners of his mouth lifted—stopped me.
“So… what did you think of the spring pictures?”
“Pardon…?”
“Since you still can’t release your yin energy on your own, I prepared a book that might help. Whether on the way here or at the shop, you’ve clearly already flipped through it once.”
“Ah, haha… well… about that…”
Still smiling, he listened as I admitted I had skimmed it at the shop but failed to climax. His expression immediately grew serious.
“Hmm… not good. Not good at all. You can’t keep asking me or that Geungwang fellow for help forever.”
“………”
Young Hero Geungwang? Don’t tell me he knows about us…?
I had never once spoken of the “accidents” between me and Young Hero Geungwang, yet Brother Namgung spoke as if it were already settled that I had received help from him in releasing yin energy—ejaculating prostate fluid rather than semen.
“…No choice, then. Time to use this.”
“……This is……?”
What Brother Namgung showed me was a transparent pouch filled with white contents.