## Chapter 183 – #39_A Pleasant Daily Life (5)
#181
1.
The room I was led into by Sharon’s hand.
It was a bit smaller than Siwoo’s room, but as it was a nice officetel, it had a living space comparable to a decent studio apartment.
Since Sharon wasn’t one for decorating, the room itself was quite stark.
The bedding, the bed, even the pillow were all plain white.
In that white landscape, Sharon’s black cat look stood out as if she were sitting in a studio.
“You can’t hide your smile, you’re so happy.”
“When did I ever?”
Siwoo rubbed his cheek, feeling embarrassed by Sharon’s teasing.
“Your eyes are smiling.”
“They’re not.”
“So you’re not going to?”
“…It’s not that I’m not.”
Siwoo had tried to take the lead for a moment, but their hands held different cards.
Against Sharon’s seductive physical assault, even Siwoo had no choice but to surrender.
“Student Siwoo, please stand before me.”
“Are you still doing that role-playing?”
“It’s a little embarrassing if I don’t do something like this. Still.”
Sharon grinned and patted Siwoo’s butt, who was standing awkwardly.
He knew that this relationship wasn’t exactly normal.
They hadn’t officially started dating, nor had they established a natural sex-partner relationship.
The very reason Sharon was providing Siwoo with this kind of sexual play was because of her sense of debt, ‘I feel bad for just receiving.’
If you were to speak maliciously based on the circumstances, you could say that Sharon was giving her body to receive Siwoo’s favor, but it was a strange flow that was too ambiguous to say so definitively.
There was a naturally formed atmosphere that was difficult to explain as being solely due to a transactional relationship.
“Wait a minute. It’s not working as well as I thought?”
“Should I do it?”
“No, I’ll try.”
Sharon, sitting on the bed, began to clumsily take off Siwoo’s jeans.
Her pursed lips were cute as she struggled, not doing as well as she had thought.
“Got it!”
After struggling with Siwoo’s pants for a while, Sharon finally managed to unbuckle them and pull them down to his thighs.
Sharon’s eyes met with the head of his penis, already erect and poking out of his underwear.
Amused by the sight, she covered her mouth and laughed, then touched the tip of his penis with her fingertip.
“Hi~ We meet again.”
Sharon talking to his penis…
When he first met her on the rooftop, he never imagined such a thing would happen.
Based on the impression he had gotten at the convenience store, Sharon had seemed like a strong, older sister type.
He never imagined she would be so playful and affectionate.
And he certainly never imagined she would wear such sexy lingerie for him.
“What’s this? I saw it last time too.”
“…Could you not rub it so much?”
Sharon looked at the pre-cum that had formed on the tip of his erect penis, as if it were something fascinating.
As her delicate fingers rubbed the split, it turned into a sticky thread, hanging long from her fingertip.
Siwoo’s waist twitched as his sensitive area was continuously stimulated.
“It looks like a mushroom too. You know how water forms on button mushrooms when you grill them with pork belly? It’s like that.”
“You’re lying again.”
Sharon chuckled at Siwoo’s silly remark.
Still, perhaps because it was their second time, there wasn’t the same tension as before.
Both Sharon and Siwoo were a bit more relaxed, able to act as if they were enjoying a game.
Of course, it was still an unfamiliar act, so there was some banter mixed in to ease the tension.
“I’m going to take off your underwear too?”
“Yeah.”
Sharon put her fingers into the elastic band and pulled Siwoo’s underwear down to his thighs.
This time, she kept enough distance to avoid getting hit by his penis, so she could observe Siwoo’s throbbing member with stability.
“It got this big while looking at me, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I feel proud.”
When Sharon’s hand gently grasped his member, the sudden temperature difference made his penis twitch.
Siwoo naturally expected Sharon to give him a handjob.
But Sharon took a deep breath and, before he could stop her, she suddenly took his penis into her mouth.
Siwoo was startled.
Moist and soft.
Sharon’s lips, which were a beautiful, bright red without any tint or lip gloss, gently wrapped around the side of his penis.
Her tongue, wriggling like a snake in his hot mouth, gently tickled the area near the head.
His legs went weak in an instant.
“Hey, you surprised me.”
“Mmmphahaha…”
Sharon, as if she had seen the result she had expected, still had his penis in her mouth, and looked up at Siwoo, who was flustered, and laughed.
She had said she would do it with her chest, but suddenly it was fellatio.
He didn’t know if she knew what she was doing, but Sharon sucked on his urethra like a straw, sucking up all the pre-cum inside.
Then, she licked the head of his penis with her tongue like a candy and pulled away.
“Ugh… salty…”
And then she frowned.
It was the same expression Sharon made when she ate mushrooms.
In other words, she didn’t like the taste.
“Why all of a sudden?”
“Is there a reason? I just wondered if you’d like this too. But it seems like you do.”
“Of course I like it. But I haven’t even showered…”
It was the middle of summer, and the weather was so hot that you would sweat just walking around.
He had been walking around in the sun quite a bit, so even if it wasn’t the smell of urine, there would probably be a musty smell of sweat around his groin.
Yet, Sharon had put his penis in her mouth without hesitation.
“Doesn’t it smell?”
“It does… but it’s not to the point of being uncomfortable?”
“I’m sorry, should I go wash up?”
“No! It’s really okay.”
Sharon, sending an appeal that she was really okay, grabbed the base of Siwoo’s penis and began to suck on it again.
The fantastic sensation.
He had already experienced it with the twins and Yebin, but fellatio was an act that gave him pleasure beyond sex.
Of course, Sharon didn’t have the kind of technique that came from practice, like a twin. Sometimes, the way her teeth would bump and catch on my glans was subtly annoying.
However, the mental bonus points for sucking the dirty part with his mouth, with the single-minded determination to please Siwoo, even though he himself can’t get a single drop of pleasure.
The physical comfort of being able to just receive service without doing anything.
The combination of physical pleasure from being caressed by the tongue and lips, which are capable of particularly delicate movements among the body’s organs.
“Slurp… Sluurp… Sluuuuurp…. Heup… Um… Chlurp….”
What if that was mixed with the sight of a small head moving back and forth with a long pole in its mouth, and Sharon’s mint-colored eyes occasionally glancing upwards, along with the sound of lascivious saliva?
It would be a pleasure so intense that it would be hard to stand still.
“Wow….”
“Haaah…. Do you like it?”
“You’re the best.”
I had no choice but to give Sharon a thumbs-up when she asked, after briefly pulling my dick out of her mouth.
We were way past the point of discussing things like, ‘doing this kind of thing between friends.’
Unlike last time, neither Sharon nor Siwoo was drunk.
“I watched some videos and did some image training. But my jaw is kind of sore.”
“You can stop if it’s too much.”
“I’m okay as long as you’re happy, you know?”
“I like other things besides this, too.”
The old man’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to a life lived under the relentless sun. His eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief, like embers glowing beneath ash. He sat on the porch, a worn wooden chair creaking beneath his weight, and watched the world go by. The village was quiet, the only sounds the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant crowing of a rooster. He took a long drag from his pipe, the smoke curling into the air like a lazy serpent.
“Another day,” he muttered to himself, his voice raspy like dry leaves. “Another day of the same old thing.”
He had seen so many days, so many seasons come and go. He had watched the young grow old, and the old fade away. He had seen the village change, slowly but surely, like a river carving its path through stone. He had been a part of it all, a silent observer, a keeper of memories.
He remembered the days when the village was bustling with life, when the fields were filled with laughter, and the air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread. He remembered the festivals, the dances, the songs that echoed through the valley. He remembered the faces of those who were gone, their smiles, their tears, their stories.
He closed his eyes, and the memories flooded back, vivid and clear. He could almost feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, the cool breeze on his face, the taste of the sweet wine that flowed freely during the harvest celebrations. He could almost hear the voices of his friends, his family, his loved ones.
But the memories were bittersweet, tinged with the sadness of loss. He knew that time moved on, that nothing stayed the same. He knew that he, too, would one day fade away, like the leaves that fell from the trees in autumn.
He opened his eyes, and the world came back into focus. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the village. The air was growing cooler, and the first stars were beginning to appear in the sky.
He took another drag from his pipe, the smoke swirling around his head like a halo. He smiled, a small, wistful smile.
“Another day,” he repeated, his voice softer this time. “Another day, and another memory.”
If only I had at least washed up, I might feel a little less sorry.
When I kept refusing to put his dick in my mouth, Sharon didn’t push it.
Instead of the surprise fellatio I had attempted on a whim, I began preparing the play I had in mind since ordering the clothes.
“It must be hard to keep standing, right? Sit here.”
“What’s hard about it for me? All I have to do is stand still.”
“Still, have a seat.”
Sharon patted the spot where she had been sitting just a moment ago, then took out a cylindrical plastic bottle from the delivery box she had brought in earlier.
“What’s that now?”
“It’s lube, and apparently, you use it like this.”
Sharon opened the bottle, removing the plastic wrapping, and then squeezed a gooey, sticky liquid directly onto her chest. The viscous liquid flowed down, tracing the tight cleavage of her breasts, which were pressed against the fabric of her clothes. Previously, she had used lotion for a paizuri play, but she had noticed a lack of lubrication towards the end of the session. Therefore, based on information she had seen in videos, she had prepared a proper set of equipment.
“Ugh, it’s cold.”
The lube felt much colder than she had expected, but it soon warmed up from the body heat between Sharon’s tightly pressed breasts.
Sharon, perhaps thinking he was ready, slightly knelt down in front of Siwoo, who was awkwardly sitting. It was time for full-on service mode.
“Alright, I’ve brought you the chest you like.”
Sharon’s breasts, trapped in the cat bra, were coated with a thin layer of lube, like a transparent sugar coating on a sweet donut. Siwoo swallowed hard.
“Now, all I have to do is put it in this hole.”
The sound of the rain was deafening. It was as if the sky itself was weeping, the heavy downpour drumming against the windowpane like a thousand tiny fists. I sat curled up on the sofa, a worn book in my lap, but my eyes were fixed on the blurry world outside. The city lights, usually so vibrant, were now just hazy streaks of color against the gray canvas of the storm.
I sighed, the sound barely audible above the relentless rain. It had been days since I last saw him, days that felt like an eternity. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of his absence, a constant echo of the silence he had left behind. I tried to focus on the words on the page, but they seemed to swim before my eyes, meaningless and disconnected.
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of the building. I jumped, my heart pounding in my chest. It was as if the storm was mirroring the turmoil within me, the chaos and confusion that had taken root in my soul.
I closed the book, the weight of it heavy in my hands. I stood up and walked to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. The rain continued to fall, each drop a tiny tear in the fabric of the night. I wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was even thinking of me.
A wave of loneliness washed over me, so intense it felt like a physical pain. I longed to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to be enveloped in the warmth of his presence. But he was gone, and all that remained was the echo of his laughter, the ghost of his smile, and the haunting melody of his absence.
I turned away from the window, the image of the storm still imprinted on my mind. I walked back to the sofa, my steps heavy and slow. I picked up the book again, but this time I didn’t try to read. I just held it close to my chest, as if it could somehow fill the emptiness that had taken root within me.
The rain continued to fall, the storm raging on, and I was left alone with my thoughts, my memories, and the deafening silence of his absence.
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years she’d weathered. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief, and her hands, gnarled and knotted like ancient tree roots, moved with surprising dexterity as she kneaded the dough. The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small kitchen, a comforting scent that had been a constant in my life for as long as I could remember.
“You’re staring again, child,” she said, her voice raspy but warm, like a well-worn blanket. “What troubles your mind this time?”
I shifted on the wooden stool, the rough surface scratching against my skin. “It’s nothing, Grandma,” I mumbled, tracing patterns on the worn tabletop with my finger.
She chuckled, a low rumble in her chest. “Nothing? A mind like yours is never empty. Out with it.”
I hesitated, then blurted out, “Why do we live here? So far away from everything?”
Her hands stilled for a moment, the dough a soft mound beneath her touch. She looked at me, her gaze piercing, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “This place,” she said, her voice softer now, “is not just a place, child. It’s a sanctuary.”
“A sanctuary?” I repeated, skepticism lacing my tone. “It’s just a bunch of trees and a dusty old house.”
She smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “There are things you cannot see, child. Things that are hidden from the eyes of the world. This place protects us from those things.”
I frowned, confused. “What things?”
She sighed, her gaze drifting towards the window, where the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the forest. “Things that would seek to harm us, child. Things that would take away the peace we have found here.”
I wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but something in her tone stopped me. There was a sadness in her eyes, a weariness that I had never noticed before. I knew, instinctively, that this was not a conversation to be pushed.
“Okay, Grandma,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
She smiled again, the warmth returning to her eyes. “Good. Now, help me with this dough. We have a lot of bread to bake.”
I slid off the stool and joined her at the table, my hands clumsy as I tried to imitate her movements. The scent of the bread, the warmth of the kitchen, and the presence of my grandmother filled me with a sense of comfort, a feeling that, despite the mysteries that surrounded us, I was safe. For now, that was enough.
샤론은 밍기적밍기적 시우의 다리 사이로 기어들어 오더니 브라에 뚫린 고양이 구멍에 자지 끝을 맞췄다.
It was only then that Siwoo could grasp the significance of this hole.
This wasn’t just some sexy gimmick to provide visual pleasure.
It was a paizuri hole.
It was a design engineered for a woman to serve a cock by gathering her breasts, without removing her bra or using her hands.
Of course, you’d need to have the physical ability to use it properly.
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years she had weathered. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief, and her hands, gnarled and twisted like ancient tree roots, moved with surprising dexterity as she kneaded the dough. The aroma of sesame oil and garlic filled the small kitchen, a comforting scent that had permeated the walls for decades.
“Hurry up, you slowpoke,” she grumbled, her voice raspy but laced with affection. “The sun’s already halfway up the sky, and you’re still dawdling like a snail.”
I chuckled, my cheeks flushed from the heat of the stove. “Sorry, Grandma. I was just admiring your skills. You make it look so easy.”
She snorted, a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. “Easy? Ha! This old body has been doing this for seventy years. It’s not easy, it’s just habit.” She paused, her gaze softening as she looked at me. “But you’ll get there too, my dear. Just keep practicing.”
I nodded, my heart swelling with a mix of love and gratitude. Grandma was the only family I had left, and her small, cluttered kitchen was my sanctuary. It was a place where time seemed to slow down, where the simple act of cooking became a ritual, and where I felt most at home.
“Now, go get the kimchi from the cellar,” she instructed, her voice regaining its usual gruffness. “And don’t you dare drop it. That’s the good stuff, the one I made last fall.”
I grinned, eager to please her. “Yes, Grandma!” I said, and hurried out of the kitchen, the scent of sesame oil and garlic clinging to my clothes like a warm embrace.
-Squelch!
I was a bit surprised when I opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was a familiar ceiling. It was the ceiling of my room, the one I’d been staring at for the past 20 years.
“Did I… come back?”
I sat up in bed, my head spinning. It was definitely my room. The old desk, the worn-out chair, the posters of my favorite games and anime plastered on the wall. Everything was exactly as it had been before.
I looked at my hands. They were small and soft, like a child’s. I pinched my cheek. It hurt. This wasn’t a dream.
“What the hell is going on?”
I got out of bed and walked to the mirror. A young boy with messy hair and sleepy eyes stared back at me. I was definitely younger. Maybe around ten years old?
“This is insane.”
I looked around the room again. Everything was the same, but it felt different. Like I was seeing it all for the first time.
I walked to the window and looked outside. The familiar street, the houses, the trees. It was all the same, but it felt like I was looking at it from a different perspective.
“Did I really go back in time?”
I couldn’t believe it. I had died. I was sure of it. I had been hit by a truck while crossing the street. I remembered the impact, the pain, the darkness. And now, I was here, in my old room, as a child again.
“This is… a second chance?”
I didn’t know why or how, but I was back. I had a chance to do things differently. A chance to fix my mistakes. A chance to live a better life.
I smiled. It was a small, hesitant smile, but it was there. I was excited, scared, and confused all at the same time. But most of all, I was grateful.
I had been given a second chance. And I wasn’t going to waste it.
시우가 홀리듯이 허리를 살짝 내밀자마자 놀랍도록 부드럽게 샤론의 가슴골로 자지가 빨려 들어갔다.
The wind was blowing.
It wasn’t a gentle breeze, but a fierce gust that seemed to want to rip the world apart. The sky was a canvas of swirling gray, and the trees swayed like drunken dancers. I pulled my coat tighter, the collar scratching against my neck. It was the kind of day that made you want to curl up inside with a cup of something warm, but I had a job to do.
I was on my way to the old library, the one that everyone said was haunted. I didn’t believe in ghosts, but I did believe in the power of stories. And the library, with its dusty shelves and forgotten tomes, held more stories than any other place I knew.
The library was a grand, imposing building, its stone walls weathered by time and neglect. The windows were dark and empty, like the eyes of a long-dead giant. I pushed open the heavy wooden door, and the scent of old paper and dust filled my nostrils. It was a comforting smell, a smell that spoke of countless hours spent lost in the pages of books.
The main hall was vast and silent, the only sound the soft echo of my footsteps on the stone floor. The shelves stretched up to the high ceiling, filled with books of all shapes and sizes. I ran my fingers along the spines, feeling the worn leather and the brittle paper. Each book was a portal to another world, a chance to escape the mundane reality of my own life.
I made my way to the back of the library, to the section that held the oldest and most forgotten books. It was a dark and dusty corner, the air thick with the smell of decay. I pulled out a book at random, its cover faded and cracked. The title was written in a language I didn’t recognize, but the symbols seemed to hum with a strange energy.
I opened the book, and the words seemed to leap off the page. They were not just words, but images, sounds, and emotions. I was drawn into the story, lost in its intricate web of characters and events. I forgot about the wind howling outside, about the cold and the darkness. I was no longer in the library, but in another world, a world that was both beautiful and terrifying.
I read for hours, until the sun began to set and the library was plunged into darkness. I closed the book, feeling a strange sense of peace. The story had changed me, had opened my eyes to new possibilities. I knew that I would never be the same again.
I left the library, the wind still howling, but it no longer seemed so fierce. I had faced the darkness within the pages of a book, and I had emerged stronger. I knew that I would return to the library again, to seek out more stories, more worlds to explore. For in the pages of a book, anything was possible.
“Wow, this is insane…”
Siwoo couldn’t help but blurt out a rough exclamation, forgetting that Sharon was watching.
러브젤 덕택에 아무런 저항도 없이 샤론의 몰캉몰캉한 맘마통오나홀을 파고드는 자지.
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line etched with the stories of a life lived under the relentless sun. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of the mischievous girl she once was. She sat on the porch, a worn wooden chair her throne, and watched the world go by.
“Aigoo, another day,” she muttered, her voice raspy like dry leaves crunching underfoot. “The sun’s a scorcher today, just like that summer when the cicadas wouldn’t shut their traps.”
A young boy, no older than seven, with a mop of unruly hair and a face smudged with dirt, came running up to her. “Grandma!” he yelled, his voice full of the boundless energy of youth. “Grandma, can we go to the stream today? I want to catch tadpoles!”
The old woman chuckled, a sound like pebbles tumbling down a hill. “Tadpoles, you say? Always with the tadpoles. Alright, alright, let’s go. But you better not fall in this time, or your mother will have my hide.”
She slowly rose from her chair, her joints protesting with a symphony of creaks and groans. She leaned heavily on her cane, each step a testament to the years she had carried on her back. The boy, impatient as ever, grabbed her hand and pulled her along, his small fingers wrapped tightly around hers.
They walked down the dusty path, the sun beating down on them like a blacksmith’s hammer. The air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the buzzing of bees. The boy chattered incessantly, his words tumbling over each other like a mountain stream. The old woman listened patiently, her heart swelling with a love that only a grandmother could possess.
They reached the stream, a ribbon of silver winding through the green meadow. The boy immediately scrambled down the bank, his eyes scanning the water for signs of life. The old woman sat on a nearby rock, her gaze fixed on the boy, a smile playing on her lips.
“Be careful now,” she called out, her voice carrying over the gentle murmur of the stream. “Don’t go too far.”
The boy, already knee-deep in the water, waved his hand dismissively. “I know, Grandma! I’m not a baby anymore!”
The old woman shook her head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on her face. She watched him as he splashed and played, his laughter echoing through the valley. She knew that these were the moments that she would cherish, the moments that would keep her going when the days grew long and the nights grew cold.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the meadow, the old woman called the boy back. He reluctantly emerged from the water, his clothes soaked and his hair plastered to his forehead.
“Alright, let’s go home now,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Your mother will be worried.”
They walked back up the path, hand in hand, the silence between them filled with a comfortable understanding. The old woman knew that the day had been a good one, a day filled with the simple joys of life. And as she looked at the boy, his face flushed with happiness, she knew that her heart was full.
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years she’d lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief as she looked at me.
“So, you’re the one who’s been causing all the ruckus?” she said, her voice raspy like dry leaves crunching underfoot.
I bowed my head slightly, a gesture of respect I’d learned from my grandmother. “I apologize if I’ve caused any trouble, Grandmother.”
She chuckled, a sound like pebbles tumbling down a hill. “Trouble? Bah! A little trouble is good for the soul. Keeps things interesting.” She gestured for me to sit on the worn wooden stool beside her. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.”
I settled onto the stool, the wood cool against my skin. The small room was filled with the scent of dried herbs and the faint aroma of something sweet baking in the oven. It was a comforting smell, one that reminded me of home.
“So,” she began, her eyes twinkling, “tell me about this ‘ruckus’ you’ve been causing.”
I hesitated, unsure of where to begin. “It’s… complicated, Grandmother.”
“Complicated, eh? Well, life is complicated. That’s what makes it worth living.” She leaned forward, her gaze intense. “Start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”
And so, I began to tell her my story. I spoke of the strange dreams that had been plaguing me, the whispers I’d been hearing in the wind, and the unsettling feeling that I was being watched. I told her about the old book I’d found hidden in the attic, the one filled with cryptic symbols and ancient lore.
As I spoke, the old woman listened intently, her eyes never leaving my face. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t offer any advice, just listened. It was a strange comfort, this silent understanding.
When I finished, she was silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on some distant point. Then, she sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world.
“So,” she said finally, her voice low, “you’ve stumbled upon something… old. Something that should have stayed buried.”
I felt a shiver run down my spine. “What do you mean, Grandmother?”
She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and concern. “The book you found… it’s not just any book. It’s a key, a key to something… dangerous.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Dangerous? What kind of danger?”
She shook her head slowly. “That’s something you’ll have to discover for yourself. But be warned, child. The path you’ve chosen is fraught with peril. You’ll face trials you never imagined, and you’ll be forced to make choices that will test the very core of your being.”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “But… what am I supposed to do?”
She smiled, a small, knowing smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That, my dear, is up to you. But remember this: the greatest strength lies not in power, but in courage. And the greatest wisdom lies not in knowledge, but in understanding.”
She reached out and took my hand, her touch surprisingly strong. “Now, go. The path ahead is long, and time is of the essence.”
I stood up, feeling a strange mix of fear and determination. “Thank you, Grandmother,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
She nodded, her eyes twinkling once more. “Go now, child. And may the spirits guide your way.”
I turned and walked out of the small room, leaving behind the comforting scent of herbs and the wise old woman. The world outside seemed different now, charged with a sense of urgency and purpose. I knew that the path ahead would be difficult, but I also knew that I couldn’t turn back. I had to see this through, no matter the cost.
Unlike its smoothness, the breasts, already small, were pushed together by the undersized underwear, providing a pressure beyond what I had imagined.
조금 더 허리를 내밀자 그녀의 하얀 젖무덤 사이를 삐져나온 귀두가 빼꼼 튀어나와 인사한다.
Humanity didn’t truly grasp the danger of nuclear weapons until two atomic bombs were dropped on Japan. Similarly, Siwoo hadn’t fully understood the destructive power of Sharon’s special Excellent Boob Hole until he’d actually used it.
A truly devilish sensation.
The combination of pressure and softness is enough to make me momentarily forget Sharon’s fellatio, sending shivers down my spine.
I never imagined that the mere difference of having clothes on or not, and the presence of lube, could create such a huge difference in sensation.
Moreover, thanks to the lube being warmed to just the right temperature, the way our skin sticks together like this is just…
“It’s really tight.”
“Is it? That’s a good thing, right?”
The old woman’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line a testament to the years she had lived. Her eyes, though clouded with age, still held a spark of mischief. She sat on the porch, a worn shawl draped over her shoulders, watching the world go by.
“Aigoo, another day,” she muttered, her voice raspy like dry leaves crunching underfoot. “The sun rises, the sun sets, and nothing ever changes.”
A young boy, no older than seven, came running up to her, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “Grandma! Grandma! Look what I found!” He held out a small, smooth stone, its surface shimmering with an iridescent sheen.
The old woman took the stone, her fingers tracing its contours. “Hmm, a pretty stone indeed. Where did you find this treasure?”
“By the stream! There were so many, but this one was the prettiest.”
She smiled, a network of wrinkles deepening around her eyes. “You have a good eye, my dear. This stone is special.”
“Really? How?”
“Well,” she began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “this stone holds a secret. It can grant wishes.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Really? A wish?”
“Yes, but you must be careful. Wishes are tricky things. They can come true in ways you never expect.”
He clutched the stone tightly in his hand. “What should I wish for?”
“That is for you to decide. But think carefully, my dear. Think about what you truly desire.”
The boy nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. He ran off, the stone clutched tightly in his hand, leaving the old woman alone on the porch once more. She watched him go, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The sun continued its journey across the sky, casting long shadows that stretched and danced like the secrets she held within her heart.
Sharon, tilting her head slightly as if to avoid being poked in the chin by the tip of his cock, looked at Siwoo’s erection with amusement.
The moment Sharon began shaking her chest in earnest, the two of them quickly identified the problem.
“This is hard to move.”
“I, I feel like something’s stuck too.”
It was different from when Sharon used to massage my dick with her soft, squishy breasts.
The cat bra severely limited my range of motion.
“Then, how about we try this?”
After freeing my dick, which had been nestled between her breasts for a moment, Sharon lay demurely on the bed.
Then, she pointed to her sternum, poking it with her finger.
“Wouldn’t it work if you sat here?”
That would definitely allow me to move my hips freely.
Siwoo, eager to feel Sharon’s soft and pleasant breasts again, climbed on top of her, careful not to put too much weight on her.
A sudden mount position makes me feel a little burdened.
“Can I hold you from the side?”
“Yeah! Of course. Do whatever’s comfortable! Ah, moving too violently hurts a bit, so go easy.”
The sound of the rain was fierce.
It wasn’t the kind of rain that gently tapped on the window, but rather a downpour that seemed to want to swallow the entire world. The sky was dark, as if a black cloth had been draped over it, and the wind howled like a beast.
I was sitting by the window, watching the rain. The world outside was a blur, and the only thing I could see clearly was the rain falling in sheets.
I was alone in the house. My parents had gone out, and my brother was at his friend’s place. I was the only one left in the house, and the silence was deafening.
I didn’t like being alone. I was always afraid of being left behind. I was afraid that if I was alone, I would be forgotten.
I hugged my knees and buried my face in them. The rain was still falling, and the wind was still howling. I felt like I was being swallowed by the darkness.
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door.
I was startled. Who could be visiting in this weather?
I hesitated for a moment, then got up and went to the door. I opened it slowly, and there was a girl standing there.
She was soaking wet, her hair plastered to her face, and her clothes clinging to her body. She was shivering, and her face was pale.
“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice trembling.
I didn’t know who she was, but I couldn’t leave her standing in the rain like that.
“Yes,” I said, stepping aside. “Come in.”
The girl stepped inside, and I closed the door behind her. She looked around the house, her eyes wide.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice still trembling. “I was so cold.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Do you want a towel?”
“Yes, please,” she said.
I went to the bathroom and got a towel. I handed it to her, and she wrapped it around herself.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“My name is So-yeon,” she said. “What’s yours?”
“My name is Ji-woo,” I said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ji-woo,” she said.
“It’s nice to meet you too, So-yeon,” I said.
We stood there for a moment, looking at each other. The silence was awkward, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Do you want some tea?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” she said.
I went to the kitchen and made some tea. I brought it back to the living room, and we sat down on the sofa.
We drank our tea in silence. The rain was still falling, and the wind was still howling. But somehow, the silence didn’t feel so deafening anymore.
“Why were you out in the rain?” I asked.
So-yeon looked down at her hands. “I was running away,” she said.
“Running away from what?” I asked.
“From my parents,” she said. “They were fighting again.”
I didn’t say anything. I knew what it was like to have parents who fought.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not your fault.”
We sat there for a while longer, drinking our tea. The rain started to slow down, and the wind started to die down.
“Do you want to stay here for a while?” I asked.
So-yeon looked at me, her eyes wide. “Really?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “You can stay here as long as you want.”
So-yeon smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
I smiled back. It felt good to have someone else in the house. It felt good to not be alone.
The rain had stopped, and the sun was starting to peek through the clouds. The world outside was still wet, but it didn’t look so dark anymore.
I looked at So-yeon, and she looked back at me. We smiled at each other, and I knew that we were going to be friends.
양해를 구한 뒤 손잡이 잡듯 샤론의 양 옆 가슴을 슬쩍 쥐고 꾸물꾸물 풀발기한 자지를 끼워 넣었다.
A glimpse of Sharon’s innocently upturned face straight ahead stirs a squirming sense of guilt within me.
어쩐지 구도가 샤론을 자위기구 삼는 것 같았기 때문이다.
Sharon, perhaps feeling a bit nervous, swallowed hard.
“O-okay, do it now. I’m ready.”
I was born a princess of the kingdom, but I was also born with a curse.
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It was a curse that made me unable to speak.
“Your Highness, Princess.”
The court lady, who had been with me since I was a baby, called me with a worried face.
I looked at her and smiled.
“You are smiling again. You must be happy.”
I nodded my head.
I was always happy.
Even though I couldn’t speak, I was always happy.
Because I had a lot of people who loved me.
My father, the king, my mother, the queen, my older brother, the crown prince, and all the court ladies and knights who served me.
They all loved me very much.
So, I was always happy.
“Your Highness, Princess, today is the day you will meet the prince of the neighboring kingdom.”
I nodded my head again.
Today was the day I would meet the prince of the neighboring kingdom.
The prince of the neighboring kingdom was said to be very handsome and intelligent.
I was looking forward to meeting him.
“Your Highness, Princess, please get ready.”
I nodded my head and followed the court lady to the dressing room.
The court lady dressed me in a beautiful dress.
It was a dress that was the color of the sky.
I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.
I was very pretty.
“Your Highness, Princess, you are very beautiful.”
I nodded my head again.
I was always beautiful.
Because I was a princess.
“Your Highness, Princess, let’s go.”
I nodded my head and followed the court lady.
We arrived at the audience hall.
There, the prince of the neighboring kingdom was waiting for me.
He was very handsome.
He had hair the color of the night sky and eyes the color of the sea.
He was looking at me with a smile.
I smiled back at him.
“Greetings, Princess of the Kingdom.”
The prince of the neighboring kingdom bowed his head to me.
I bowed my head back to him.
“I am Prince of the Kingdom.”
The prince of the neighboring kingdom introduced himself.
I nodded my head.
I knew who he was.
“It is an honor to meet you, Prince.”
The prince of the neighboring kingdom smiled at me.
“The honor is mine, Princess.”
We looked at each other and smiled.
I was very happy.
I was very happy to have met the prince of the neighboring kingdom.
I wanted to talk to him.
I wanted to tell him that I was happy.
But I couldn’t speak.
I was cursed.
I couldn’t speak.
I looked at the prince of the neighboring kingdom with sad eyes.
The prince of the neighboring kingdom looked at me with a worried face.
“Princess, are you alright?”
I shook my head.
I wasn’t alright.
I couldn’t speak.
I was cursed.
The prince of the neighboring kingdom looked at me with a sad face.
“Princess, I know you can’t speak.”
I looked at the prince of the neighboring kingdom with surprised eyes.
How did he know?
“I heard about the curse.”
The prince of the neighboring kingdom smiled at me.
“But it doesn’t matter.”
I looked at the prince of the neighboring kingdom with confused eyes.
What did he mean?
“I can understand you even if you don’t speak.”
The prince of the neighboring kingdom smiled at me.
“I can understand your heart.”
I looked at the prince of the neighboring kingdom with tears in my eyes.
I was very happy.
I was very happy that someone could understand me.
I was very happy that someone could understand my heart.
I smiled at the prince of the neighboring kingdom.
The prince of the neighboring kingdom smiled back at me.
“Princess, let’s be friends.”
I nodded my head.
I wanted to be friends with the prince of the neighboring kingdom.
I wanted to be friends with someone who could understand me.
I was very happy.
I was very happy that I had met the prince of the neighboring kingdom.
I was very happy that I had found a friend.
I was very happy that I was alive.
잠깐 망설이던 시우도 찌걱찌걱 소리가 나는 샤론의 가슴골에 자지를 박으며 허리를 움직이기 시작했다.
The old woman’s face was a mess of wrinkles, like a dried-up persimmon. Her eyes, though, were as clear as a mountain spring, and they were fixed on me.
“You’re the one who came to see the old well?”
Her voice was low and raspy, like the sound of dry leaves rustling in the wind. I nodded, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“Yes, I am. I heard… well, I heard there was something special about it.”
The old woman chuckled, a dry, crackling sound. “Special? That’s one way to put it. Some say it’s blessed, others say it’s cursed. Depends on who you ask, I suppose.”
She gestured with a gnarled hand towards the well, which stood in the center of the small, overgrown yard. It was made of rough-hewn stones, moss clinging to its sides like a second skin. The wooden cover was askew, revealing a dark, gaping maw.
“It’s been here longer than anyone can remember. Seen generations come and go. Seen things… things you wouldn’t believe.”
I took a step closer, my heart pounding in my chest. “What kind of things?”
The old woman’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something… something ancient and knowing.
“Things that are best left undisturbed,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But if you’re so curious, go ahead. Take a look. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I hesitated, a shiver running down my spine. But the pull of the well was too strong to resist. I reached out and slowly lifted the wooden cover, the hinges groaning in protest.
The darkness inside was absolute, like a void swallowing all light. I leaned closer, peering into the abyss. And then, I saw it.
A faint, shimmering light, deep within the well. It pulsed softly, like a heartbeat, and it seemed to beckon me closer.
I felt a strange compulsion, a desire to reach out and touch it. I lowered my hand, my fingers brushing against the cold, damp stone.
And then, I fell.
Not in the way you might expect, not a clumsy stumble. It was more like being pulled, drawn into the darkness with an irresistible force. I didn’t scream, didn’t even have time to gasp. I just fell, the darkness closing in around me like a shroud.
And then, everything went black.
