Casually Exchanging Benefits
Buuuuuuzzzzz—
From the chair tilted back behind me came a low-toned vibration that clashed completely with the peaceful atmosphere. Beneath the hem of my slightly ridden-up short-sleeved tee. Below my smooth, toned waist without an ounce of fat. Between my long, slender, snow-white legs.
"Haaah… Huff!"
As my shoulders twitched, a moan burst past my lips. The thrilled voice filling the dim studio apartment was far higher and lewder than anything from the actress on screen.
If it had been before. Just three years ago, back when I was me. I never could've imagined making a sound like that.
But—
"Haaang!"
Now wasn't the time for such lame reflections. For real. I was almost there.
So…
"J-Just a liiittle moooore…."
Somewhere deep in my lower belly. From that profoundly intimate organ I could barely name in my right mind, an agonizing pleasure welled up. I gripped my hand tight, focusing on it. Clutching the pink silicone lump buzzing in my palm, terrified I'd drop it. My wrist ached. That review wasn't lying. The one about the intense vibrations making her scream without realizing it.
"Huff… Heeek!"
Over the heavily soaked panties, I gently moved the hand I'd been holding it with. I carefully lifted the pink toy upward from where it pressed against my wet slit. The low-growling pink beast soon touched the slightly protruding nub.
"Ah, ahh. Haaang!"
Dizzying pleasure. A shrill scream escaped as tears prickled from my eyes. Yes, yes. If I wasn't gonna put it inside anyway… Th-this feels so much better!
The movements and gasps from the couple on screen. Combined with the dizzying sensation spreading from between my legs, the pleasure piling up inside me raced toward its peak. Overflowing ecstasy began staining my lower abdomen, creeping all the way to my toes.
"Haaaah… J-Just a liiittle! Haaaang!"
I couldn't control the voice bursting out. Or the way my waist shook on its own. Yes, yes! This is it! This'll get me there!
And then.
At the edge of the dizzying pleasure consuming my whole body.
Buuuuuuzzzzz… Bzzz.
The low vibration that had drowned out my thoughts—not to mention my dignity as a man—cut off with an ominous sputter.
"Wait."
I stared blankly at my beloved pink vibrator, now reduced to lifeless silicone.
"Wait, wait, wait!"
I frantically jabbed the power button. Bzzz, bzzz. After a few pitiful twitches, the vibrator went completely still.
This…
"No way, for real?"
At this timing. Right when just a little more would've pushed me over. The battery dies?
"Uwaaaaaah!"
The lost energy converted into a frustrated wail that exploded from my lips. Staring at the vibrator pitifully flashing red for a charge, I yelled and flung myself from the chair onto the bed.
"Should've charged it earlier…."
After that small lament, the sensations I'd ignored amid the pleasure finally resurfaced one by one. The half-slipped strap of my sleep bra was annoying. My prominently erect nipples chafed against the soft lining with every breath. The panties clinging damply to my skin bugged me most.
But more than anything.
"Haht…."
Even without the stimulation, the unburst heat still gripped my body. I wanted to somehow release this fire.
"With my hand… maybe?"
That thought vanished cleanly as I lifted the sticky panties. Somehow, using my hand felt… off. Just… off.
"Ahem…."
In the end, my hand went not to my lower half, but to the smartphone rolling by my head. I opened the messenger and scrolled through the chat rooms to the one with that decent-looking guy.
The chats inside were packed with crude initials and rough words—nothing like normal guy-girl talk. I typed quickly. Started to send a simple message with just the point.
"If I just send a plain text, this jerk definitely won't come."
I hit the + next to send, selected photo, and pulled my tee up over my chest.
~ Late Sunday evening. In his neatly blue-black toned studio apartment, Hanjiu—freshman in Economics at Hanul University—sat at his desk, diligently working the mouse. On his 27-inch curved monitor, ten characters battled intensely on a long single-lane bridge. Flashy skills flew back and forth. After a few exchanges.
Bam!
"What the hell!"
Hanjiu slammed the desk as the screen turned gray. The tower he'd desperately defended against long-range snipers got obliterated in an instant. Shotgun blasts aside, curses spilled quietly from his mouth.
"Fuck, you gotta check for the archer before diving!"
As if reacting to his words, a question mark emote popped up over the green rock character from the enemy archer.
Sunday evening. He was spending the precious end of his weekend on that canyon bridge. University hadn't changed much. Attend lectures on time. In gaps, play basketball with buddies or hit the PC bang. What was different from high school?
If anything had changed, it was more chances to talk to girls. And less desk time overall, so he filled it with gym sessions.
Midst those thoughts, staring at the enemies pushing to the second tower for a teabag.
Ding!
A blinking messenger alert on the taskbar grabbed his attention. Respawn had time left. Naturally, his focus shifted from the emote-filled game to the messenger.
It was from the girl in their weird relationship… well, a girl, but calling her just a girl felt off. What at this hour? He opened the chat, and a flesh-toned photo seized his eyes.
Two snow-white, luscious mounds holding their full shape even lying down. In the photo, she pitifully covered the flushed pink tips with slender arms, flaunting her erotic body.
"Crazy, what's her deal now."
But his reaction wasn't what you'd expect from a vigorous 20-year-old freshman guy.
As if sensing his lame response, messages piled up busily below the photo.
Arguing more would just make her annoying. Today was leg day—he'd wrecked them hard. He wanted to wrap up quietly. Steel yourself piously like that.
But ding-ding—the barrage of messages and photos shook his resolve.
A suspiciously stained panty pulled up to expose the slit. Below that photo:
Calling herself a college girl meant Song Yujeong had edged herself silly too. Crazy bitch. Crazy… bitch… Still a crazy bitch, but…
He set the messenger aside, tried focusing on the gray screen, but his thick brows twitched.
Ah, damn! Shouldn't associate with her. Head said ignore it, definitely.
But his eyes drifted back to the messenger. Couldn't help it. He was a healthy 20-year-old guy too. Tried ignoring, but the messages pulled his gaze to that half-exposed snow-white nude.
His body remembered the experience. The soft, chewy feel of kneading those pale mounds. The sweet, fragrant womanly scent when crushing that warm, curved body against him.
Naturally, his lower half stiffened rigidly in his training pants.
After lingering long on the pale nude, a sharp ping snapped him back.
Yeah, it was weird. She didn't nag like this usually. If anything, she'd never pushed first like this.
"She's nuts. Worried for nothing."
In the end, Hanjiu's base exploded spectacularly. Endless teammate pings and question marks played a part. As did the horny girl's ongoing messenger terrorism.
Mid-teamfight, a new photo distracted him with glistening threads between soaked panties and pale skin—he missed his ult timing, but that stayed his secret.
At the defeat screen, Hanjiu roughly closed the game client, left a short message, and shot up from his seat.
That insult ended the texts. No reply to her "come quick," not even clearing the unread 1.
That was enough. Hanjiu had always been like that. Tsundere of tsunderes. Eyes full of worry, mouth spitting barbs. A personality clashing with his bulky build.
Plus. A guy seeing those pics and holding back?
Doorbell any second now. His place was two floors down in the same officetel. Three minutes tops if he just left.
I hurried off the bed to the bathroom. Tossed the sopping panties in the laundry, squeezed toothpaste on my brush, and started brushing.
No kissing, of course. We'd ruled that out from the start. Never love or dating. Hanjiu and I weren't that mushy. Just chasing mutual pleasure. Simply providing each other benefits.
But even without kissing. We'd get close. Being the one getting fucked, bad breath teasing would double the humiliation.
Brushing, I checked myself in the mirror biting the brush. Flawless white face, neatly trimmed brown brows. Deep-set big eyes under sharp double lids. Pink lips smaller than expected. Jawline below sleek and smooth, unlike a guy's.
Pretty, beautiful. Screw cheap compliments. Yeah, no matter how many times, the mirror showed a woman. Different from Hanjiu. No trace of the guy I'd hung with three years ago.
Thoughts tangled my head. Aah, Song Yujeong. Don't get emotional. Like last time, bawling post-sex would annoy us both.
I rinsed with cold water, clearing the mess. Finished brushing. Wiped my sticky bits with rose-scented feminine wet wipes—suckered by marketing. No need for panties since they'd come off anyway. Stripped the tee and sleep bra, slipped into a free-size tee down to mid-thigh.
Not like I stripped for easy insertion or anything. Even half-assed woman or not. Even showing Hanjiu that jerk everything. Flashing wet panties direct. Or showing myself soaking them. Felt too embarrassing.
After spreading a big bath towel on the bed.
Ding-dong—
The doorbell echoed, and my chest, my lower belly, started pounding.