Unquenchable Flames
The sharp click of Seo Harin's heels echoes down the corridor as she flees the office like a hunted animal, fading into the distance. In the empty partition, only Park Minhyuk remains, leisurely savoring the sight of her pathetic, jiggling ass disappearing in panic.
He slowly pulls his right hand from his pocket and brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply. The sticky juices from when he pinned her against the wall moments ago, shoving his fingers deep into her skirt to roughly knead her pussy, still cling viscously to his digits. The sour, lewd scent of aroused female flesh assaults his nostrils. He smirks wickedly, thrusting two fingers deep into his mouth and licking them clean with his tongue. Slurp... smack smack... kiss! "Delicious."
His depraved, sensual murmur cuts through the chilly office air. This past week has been a tedious test of patience for Minhyuk too. He feigned utter indifference to lower her guard, but in truth, he'd spent every day fantasizing about her violent curves, secretly savoring the taste in his mind.
Minhyuk's gaze drops to his crotch. His cock, pent up for a week, throbs fiercely against his pants, threatening to burst the zipper. The image of Harin's wet lips and flushed eyes, gasping against the wall, has ignited the predator's lust to perfection.
"I've waited too long. Now that I've planted that sensation deep again... it's time to claim the fruit completely."
He yanks off his tie roughly, grabs his already rock-hard, massive cock through his pants, and begins stroking it slowly. In his mind, he rolls out the plan for the next hunt—dark, violent, inevitable.
At the same moment, Harin bursts out of the building like she's escaping hell and collapses into an empty taxi.
"Driver, hurry. Please, go fast."
She crumples into the back seat, trembling like a leaf. The taxi speeds down the road, but her heart refuses to calm.
Harin fumbles in her bag for her smartphone. She needs someone—her one and only lover who can save her—right now, to wash away this maddening terror and dizzying arousal.
Her shaking fingers dial Kim Junho's number. The ringtone fills the cramped cab heavily. But cruelly, it just keeps ringing; no answer from the other end.
Junho has been bonding with Yoon Jiyeon lately, soaking up work like a sponge. Even now, deep into overtime feedback from her, he doesn't notice his phone vibrating in the corner of his desk.
"Oppa... please... please pick up..."
Clutching the unanswered call, Harin bites her bloodless lips and begs. Staring blankly at the missed call screen, hot tears finally spill from her eyes.
But what drives her craziest isn't the unconnected phone—it's the horrific heat in her lower body from being forcibly stimulated by Minhyuk's knee and fingers against the office wall. Against her frail reason, her corrupted flesh hasn't escaped even one percent from the beastly excitement he ignited. Her panties are soaked disgustingly, transparent sticky fluids flowing down her inner thighs in abundance, the boiling pleasure from her abdomen paralyzing her brain in white-hot haze.
The taxi stops in front of her rundown studio apartment. Harin throws cash at the driver and stumbles out, punching the door code frantically. The second it unlocks, she rushes inside and collapses on the entryway floor without even turning on the light.
"Haa... hng... ahh..."
Panting raggedly, she clutches her breasts hard with both hands. Her heartbeat throbs violently through her blouse. Minhyuk's thick, heavy male scent lingers in her nose, mercilessly violating her. Tears streaming, she screams silently into the void.
"Oppa... please protect me... save me, oppa..."
Her mouth cries desperately for her lover, but her right hand trembles as it slips under her skirt, into her drenched panties. She has to expel this insane heat and excitement herself, or she'll suffocate and die right there.
The moment her fingers touch her swollen clit, overflowing juices ooze between them stickily. Biting her lip, she presses two fingers to her pussy entrance and slides them in slowly—but deeply. Slurrrp... smack smack...
"Haaang...! Hn... aaaang...!"
Each thrust scraping her inner walls fills the entryway with obscene wet sounds. Curled on the floor, she bucks her hips wildly, pistoning her fingers fast to gouge inside, thumb grinding her clit hard. Her breasts bounce, thighs quiver. Her tear-streaked face melts completely into pleasure, flushed red.
Timing's god plays the cruelest pranks. Just as Harin nears a dizzying climax from her frantic fingering—ding. vrrr. Her discarded phone buzzes loudly on the floor, screen lighting up. It's Junho.
Gasping in ecstasy, she snatches it with her pleasure-drunk hand and taps accept frantically. Her fingers still buried deep inside, twitching faintly.
"Harin-ah, sorry. I was working late and missed your call. Really, really sorry. What's wrong?"
Junho's tender, worried voice from the receiver. Hearing that pure tone, she tries to grasp her sanity and respond. But the seed of pleasure Minhyuk planted has already devoured her control.
"Oppa... haa... hn... oppaaa..."
Words fail; only lewd, sticky moans escape. Her fingers plunge deeper, faster. Schlick schlick... smack smack... The sounds leak through the phone.
Standing in the office, Junho freezes at the unfamiliar, blatant moans from the speaker.
"H-Harin-ah... are you... no way..."
His voice roughens too. A healthy twenty-something male's instincts leap past reason at his lover's sexy phone sounds. His suit pants bulge threateningly without him realizing.
"Aang... oppa... aaht... hn...!"
Harin clings to Junho over the line, wailing "oppa" endlessly. But at the peak of ecstasy, invading her mind isn't her sweet lover's face—it's Park Minhyuk shoving her against the wall, tongues tangling like beasts, and the overwhelming might of his massive cock that could tear her pussy apart.
"No... haat... aaaak...!"
A perfect, nauseating climax triggered by another man's image. Harin arches like a bow, howling beastly. Her pussy clamps her fingers madly, squirting hot juices. Legs spasm, tears cascade. Insane with shame and guilt, she jabs the end call button hysterically.
Collapsed on the entryway floor, her body still twitches faintly. Minhyuk's phantom won't release her corrupted flesh.
Click. The call drops in the silent office. Junho swallows hard, staring at the screen with a flushed face. Harin's wet moans echo in his ears like hallucinations. His crotch strains unbearably against his pants fabric.
Junho pants hotly, trying to calm his arousal as he checks the text—when the office door opens. Yoon Jiyeon enters, carrying lunch bags in both hands.
"Junho-ya, you haven't eaten working nonstop, so I got some lunch boxes. You haven't, right?"
She approaches his desk with a kind voice. Junho startles, trying to hide behind it—but her eyes lock onto his bulging pants first. Her eyes widen like a rabbit's. The young man's fully erect heat asserts itself boldly. Even as a mature boss, her face burns; her pale cheeks flush tomato-red instantly. Panicking, she averts her gaze to the ceiling, fanning herself with both hands.
"What the hell were you thinking alone during overtime?!"
At her scolding tone, Junho pales and waves his hands frantically.
"N-No, unnie! It's not— I mean, it's a misunderstanding. Really!"
At his flustered excuses, Jiyeon drops the bags on his desk and turns to flee.
"Misunderstanding or not, cool off first. I'll head out; call me when you're calm and we'll eat."
She hurries out, hiding her embarrassment. Alone, Junho bangs his head on the desk with a deep sigh.
"Argh, not like this. Driving me crazy."
To quell the bursting heat, he drags his heavy steps to the rooftop. Cold night wind blows as he leans on the railing, catching his breath. Then Harin calls again.
Junho clears his throat, composes himself, and answers.
"Yeah, Harin-ah."
"Oppa, sorry about earlier. Hearing your voice suddenly... I missed you so much, got weirdly excited without realizing."
Her shy, trembling voice over the line. Junho accepts the lie wholly as proof of love, without a shred of doubt.
"No, Harin-ah, I liked it too. I'm so grateful you think of me like that."
Heavy silence flows after his tender reply. Only breaths intertwine precariously.
"Oppa."
"Yeah, Harin-ah."
"Oppa."
"Yeah, what is it? Something to say?"
Her voice trembles desperately.
"Can I really come down to Busan?"
Lightning strikes with the second bombshell. Junho grips the railing hard; his heart plummets. They just confirmed love through sexy talk—now this despairing plea.
"What's wrong, Harin-ah? What happened now? Someone at work harassing you again?"
His urgent voice. But Harin realizes bone-deep: no matter how she whines and begs, this man tied to Busan can't pull her from Seoul's demon right now. Nothing changes. It's a grave she'll rot in alone.
"No, oppa, sorry. Just missing you, throwing a tantrum. Love you. Miss you so much."
She hastily backpedals to defuse. But a heavy stone of worry settles in Junho's chest.
"Harin-ah, don't suffer alone. I love you too. This weekend, I'll make time to come to Seoul no matter what. And if it's too much, come down anytime—I'll prepare everything."
His firm vow.
"No, just think of it as whining. Hanging up, oppa. Eat well."
She ends abruptly. Staring at the dead phone, Junho's heart aches with helplessness. He sighs deeply, heads down from the roof to the office.
At the break room's small table, Yoon Jiyeon sits primly, opening a salad pack as if erasing the awkwardness.
Junho approaches with heavy steps, slumps into the opposite chair.
"Senior Manager, earlier really—"
"Eat. It'll get cold."
She cuts him off sharply, handing chopsticks. Her eyes fix on her salad, but her earlobes stay red. Junho sighs deeply across from her. His lover battles isolation in Seoul, while he sits eating with an attractive boss after a pathetic crotch blunder. The orbits of these two youths, sworn eternal lovers, begin twisting grotesquely in the unseen shadows of the night.
