Consumed by the Scent
The video call with Junho cut off, and the rundown studio apartment plunged back into its vicious, heavy silence. Only the relentless patter of rain outside battered the eardrums of isolated Harin with cruel insistence. Her lover's bloodshot eyes, choking back tears as he apologized through the screen. And that desperate vow that he would definitely return. Harin had felt Junho's sincerity deep in her bones, and she'd answered that she loved him to the point of madness too. But after the call ended, what lingered in her heart wasn't warm comfort or fulfillment. It was an insatiable, brutal emptiness. And a raving loneliness that seeped into her very marrow.
Crouched on the floor of the room, Harin's gaze drifted to the small scrap of fabric clutched in her left hand. The finest silk handkerchief that Park Minhyuk—the man of absolute power—had handed her days ago in the emergency stairwell. As if entranced, she gripped it with both hands and slowly drew it toward her nose and lips. The moment the cool silk touched her skin, Minhyuk's dark, heavy woody scent pierced her nostrils and surged fiercely into her lungs.
"Haa... Nngh..."
A hot sigh escaped her unbidden. This overwhelming male musk carried the dominance of a force ready to seize her waist roughly and crush everything in its path. The instant she inhaled it, Harin's mind went blank white. The snap of her reason breaking sliced through the silent apartment. Her right hand slid up over her pajamas first. Trembling fingers clenched her full breast hard. Through the thin fabric, soft flesh overflowed her grasp. With the handkerchief buried in her face, Harin began kneading her breast roughly. Pressing down heavily with her palm, digging in with her fingers to reshape the yielding flesh.
"Hng... Ah..."
Her nipple was already stiff and erect. She pinched the sensitive bud hard between thumb and forefinger. Rubbing, twisting, tugging lightly. Pain and pleasure mingled, flooding down her spine. Her left hand pressed the handkerchief harder to her face, inhaling Minhyuk's scent deeply, while her right hand alternated between her breasts, tormenting the nipples. Her breasts burned so hot the pajama fabric was nearly soaked. With a moan, Harin hiked up her top, baring her bare skin. Now her fingers touched the nipples directly. She twisted the ones exposed to the cool air viciously, scraping lightly with her nails. Kneading her entire breasts with both hands in turn, pinching both nipples at once—her hips bucked involuntarily.
"Aang... Haa... So... weird..."
Shame flooded her as her body went fully into heat. Now her right hand drifted downward slowly. Slipping inside her pajama pants, shoving aside her panties. The pussy her fingertips met was already slick and swollen. Hot juices overflowed between her fingers.
"Aaht... Hng... No..."
Her mouth said no, but her fingers wouldn't stop. Her left hand, still kneading her breast, pinched one nipple hard. Two fingers of her right hand rubbed the pussy entrance before slowly pushing inside. Squelch... squish...! Her tight, scorching walls were so narrow that the thick friction rang out clearly the moment they entered. Harin arched her back, shoving her fingers deeper. Squelch... squelch... The pussy walls clenched around them, sticky fluids dripping down her hand. At the same time, her left hand twisted the nipple harder. In her imagination, Minhyuk mauled her breasts roughly, bit her nipples, and ravaged her pussy with his long fingers. His platinum wedding ring chilled against her nipple, his low chuckle as he whispered,
'Your tits, your pussy... all mine.'
"Haang...! More... Aaht...!"
Harin's fingers moved with mad speed. Now three plunged in at once, stirring her insides wildly. Squelch! Squelch! Squish! Slick slick! Her left hand alternated pinching and pulling both nipples hard. Her breasts flushed red-hot, and juices squirted from her pussy, soaking her thighs. And the climactic moment. What dominated Harin's mind completely wasn't Junho, but Minhyuk—mauling her breasts, biting her nipples, pounding her pussy mercilessly.
"Haang...! Executive Director... my tits... Aang...! Aaaht...!"
Her back snapped like a bowstring, her body convulsing violently. Her pussy walls clamped her fingers insanely, hot juices gushing out in a spray. At the same time, the hard pinch on her nipples exploded electric pleasure from her breast tips. A mind-shattering white blast—the most destructive orgasm of her twenty years. As the spasms faded, Harin sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath. Her right fingers were still buried deep, her walls twitching faintly and dripping fluids. Her left hand loosely gripped a swollen red nipple. And... hot tears poured uncontrollably from both eyes.
Oppa... I'm sorry... What the hell am I doing...'
Harin clutched Minhyuk's handkerchief to her chest, sobbing quietly amid guilt and the afterglow of pleasure. Her pussy still burned hot; pulling her fingers out elicited another small slick sound. She was still... not fully satisfied.
"Hic... Sob... I'm insane. What have I done."
Vicious guilt and horrific self-loathing strangled Harin's throat mercilessly. She shoved Minhyuk's handkerchief away like trash and curled into a ball. Leaving Junho oppa, who wept blood in that lonely outpost, eyes only for her. And I sought comfort from another man—my boss's scent, no less. I even came to the thought of another man, an orgasm I'd never felt in a lifetime with oppa.
Sprawled on the floor, Harin heaved ragged breaths. Three fingers of her right hand still plunged deep in her pussy, the inner walls spasming wildly and dripping hot fluids. Her left hand loosely gripped her still-swollen red nipple. Her breast tips throbbed dully, her pussy clenching in the orgasm's aftershocks. The moment her mind burned white, tears burst forth.
Oppa... I'm sorry...'
Harin curled up, clutching Minhyuk's handkerchief to her chest. And in that instant, memories from age twenty crashed over her like a wave. The day they met at the freshman welcome party. Junho's ears flushed red as they shyly exchanged numbers. The day before his enlistment, clinging together on the parade ground, sobbing until their throats broke. Nights he came home on leave, handing her hand-written letters he'd stayed up all night for, whispering, "I'll love you forever." After discharge, stolen kisses in the dim library corner—those sweet, dazzling moments. And... their first time. A cheap motel room. Both virgins, their fingertips ice-cold. Junho fumbled unbuttoning her blouse, dropping two buttons; Harin spread her legs, eyes glistening with shame. The moment he pressed his stiff cock to her pussy entrance.
"Harin-ah... If it hurts... can you endure?"
"...Yeah. Just be gentle, oppa."
When Junho thrust his hips, her tight pussy tore with agony. Squish... the thick intrusion. A bit of blood seeped out, but Junho teared up, repeating "I love you... I love you..." as he moved slowly. He was clumsy, too fast, never deep enough. Harin gritted her teeth through the pain, but when he came hot inside her, she thought, This man is my whole life. For five years after that day, Harin never once reached a proper climax. Each time Junho panted above her and came, she smiled, thinking, This is love. That awkward, friction-heavy fumbling was proof enough of their love.
Yes... Oppa was my first for everything in life.
Tears streaming, Harin pounded her chest hard. She slapped her still-erect breasts.
"We were each other's universe... everything. I just... lost my way in this cold loneliness for a moment. I love only Kim Junho. Only oppa..."
She brainwashed herself frantically. Beautiful past memories desperately blanketed the heart soiled moments ago by Minhyuk's scent. Even as tears trailed her cheeks, Harin kept murmuring.
Until oppa comes back... I'll wait perfectly, eyes only for him.
The most heartbreaking, desperate self-justification born of vicious guilt.
Exhausted from sobbing, Harin struggled to her feet. Her thighs still slick, slipping with every step. She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water hard on her face. Staring straight into the mirror, she forced a bright smile.
"Oppa... I'm sorry. Never again... never."
The smile in the mirror was heartbreakingly beautiful. But her hand still gripped Minhyuk's handkerchief tight, and her pussy... still twitched faintly, harboring unquenched heat.
She ran the sink and scrubbed her hands raw with soap until they burned red. The face in the mirror was the basest, lust-corrupted bitch in heat. Harin gripped the sink with trembling hands and collapsed, wailing openly. She flailed to dredge up their purest past memories to wash away this filthy guilt. The most heartbreaking, desperate self-justification born of vicious guilt.