## Chapter 391 – #84_The Last Supper (2)
#389
1.
Count Yesod knelt on the bare floor, shoes on, without even a cushion.
Beside him, her discarded dress was neatly folded.
On top of it were placed a generously sized bra, a suggestive lace panty, and a pair of high heels, as if on display.
Meanwhile, Siwoo was comfortably leaning back on the sofa, fully clothed except for his thing dangling out from his suit pants.
The Count, not even allowed a single thread of clothing, had his hands neatly placed on his thighs as he diligently bobbed his head up and down.
-Smooch… Smooch… Slurp… Mwah…
Is there a structure that could so clearly show the difference in each other’s positions?
도톰한 백작의 입술이 부드럽게 장대를 감싸고, 쉴 새 없이 움직이는 혀가 귀두를 핥는다.
The Count, unable to meet Siwoo’s eyes, was in the midst of pleasuring his cock with a mixture of shame and excitement on his face.
With her saliva and melted lip gloss.
I can’t believe she agreed so easily.
Even Siwoo, who thought it might be a bit much, was moved by her enthusiastic response.
“Try sucking a little deeper.”
Pause.
Count Yesod’s movements cease.
Was that too much…?
But the count, whose eyelashes were fluttering, bit down deeper on his cock without a word.
거의 목을 찌를 정도로 깊은 펠라치오.
느낀 적 없던 입 안쪽 부드러운 살이 조금 더 착실하게 귀두에 마찰한다.
“Chwup… Ugh… Ung… Oop….”
A chignon style with even the back hair elegantly braided upwards.
Whether it was the labored breathing, or the eyebrows slightly drawn together like a goose, and the lips that encircled his cock so perfectly.
And even the breasts that swayed slightly behind.
I was slowly reaching my limit.
I wanted to put it in.
“That’s enough.”
“Puhah…. Cough…! Cough…!”
The Count spat out my cock, then demurely turned his body, covering his mouth as he coughed lightly.
To have the Count, whose every little movement exudes grace, kneeling naked before me and performing fellatio.
But today’s role-playing won’t end at this level.
“Oh dear….”
To lead the scene forward, I threw out an appropriate ad-lib, and the Count asked in a cautious tone.
“Why? Siwoo? Did I scratch you with my teeth…?”
The Count’s eyes turn towards Siwoo’s erect tower.
Like a tree used to measure height, a lip gloss ring, marking how far it had been sucked, encircled his cock.
“Count, it’s gotten dirty because of your makeup.”
“Ah…”
“I should wipe it off.”
According to the novel I skimmed earlier, this level of intensity wouldn’t even reach 50%.
How will the Count react?
“I, I’m so sorry… what should I do…?”
He’s still hesitant.
The Count avoids eye contact, fiddling with his sideburns.
I drive the point home with a single sentence.
“Did Count Yesod dirty it? Then I’d like to wipe it off with your body. You know what I mean, right?”
The Count nodded slightly and carefully rose from his seat.
“I, I’ll wipe it for you.”
“Where are you going to wipe it?”
“With my, my… with my hole….”
His slightly delinquent, swaggering tone was the key.
“Whose where?”
“M-mine… Count Lucy Yesod’s… with my… pussy….”
Finally uttering such vulgar words like a character in a novel, Count Yesod finally dropped his head and stared at his feet.
His hands were clasped politely in front of him, looking like a child being severely scolded.
It’s generally difficult to engage in role-playing like this without being drunk. The cringe factor tends to break the immersion. However, the Count’s reaction and his naked body, with his lips tightly pressed together and trembling slightly, were enough to make me forget such trivial thoughts and fully immerse myself. At this moment, Yesod Mama was Siwoo’s slave.
Should I push the line just a little further?
“I’ll do an examination. Come closer.”
“S-Siwoo… I’m a little scared…”
“You say you’ll polish my things, but I have to inspect them.”
Where does that look like a scary expression?
It’s a face of craving, wanting ‘a little more’ even while feeling all sorts of shame, humiliation, and embarrassment.
Siwoo, as if handling an object, hesitantly approached the Count’s thighs and tapped them left and right, making him spread them shoulder-width apart.
As she draws near, I can feel her hot breath, panting back and forth.
허벅지를 타고 흥건하게 흐르는 애액도 보인다.
The sweet and sour scent rising from there felt like it seized my brain in an instant.
“The angle isn’t great. Please get on the table.”
The Count readily nodded and climbed onto the low table.
Siwoo leaned forward, her hand lightly tapping the Count’s petals as if conducting an eye exam.
Beneath the downy fluff, she wondered how the hair could be so soft.
The Count’s pearl, seemingly more swollen than before, and the luscious petals draped below it caught her eye.
“If it’s this wet, it’ll wipe off easily, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hhhng…!”
At Siwoo’s taunting, which tested the boundaries, the Count’s small pearl twitched slightly.
It was a signal she showed whenever she felt sexual arousal.
“By the way, why are you so wet?”
“Siwoo… you, you know…”
“I want to hear it from your lips, Count.”
The confession of Count Yesod, who had transformed from a seductive widow into a vulnerable lamb.
“Earlier… when I was spanked on my bottom… and when I was taking your thing in my mouth, Siwoo… I got excited…”
The Count is cooperating with the role-playing more enthusiastically than I expected.
In that case, I, Siwoo, will also do my best to make the Count feel embarrassed.
“Try wiping it off now.”
2.
“Hnn… Ugh… Hnn…!”
-Squish! Squish! Squish!
The soft flesh of an overripe fruit, past its harvest time.
If you were to crush that flesh with your hands, wouldn’t it make a similar sound and have a similar scent?
The air grows cold and dry as winter deepens.
Yet, a lewd sound, as if to dye even that air hot and moist, echoes incessantly from the sofa.
The Count, squatting down to clean my cock like he did after our first time, was different this time.
His confident, relaxed expression was twisted with shame and masochistic pleasure. And his waist movements were awkward, as if his back might break at any moment.
The reason for the Count’s clumsy movements was none other than this.
전보다 훨씬 큰 성적인 쾌락을 느끼고 있었기에 자칫하면 가버릴 것 같기 때문이다, 라고 백작님 속살이 꿈틀거리며 자지에 속삭여 준다.
The old man’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line etched with the stories of a life lived under the relentless sun. He sat on the porch, his weathered hands clasped over a gnarled cane, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sky met the endless expanse of the sea. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore was a constant lullaby, a soundtrack to his solitude.
He remembered a time when this porch was filled with laughter, when the air buzzed with the energy of children playing tag in the yard, their small feet kicking up dust devils. His wife, her hair the color of spun moonlight, would sit beside him, her gentle voice weaving tales of faraway lands. But those days were now distant echoes, fading into the recesses of his memory.
The old man sighed, a sound like the rustling of dry leaves. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn photograph. It was a picture of a young couple, their faces beaming with youthful exuberance. He traced the outline of his wife’s face with a trembling finger, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.
He had lived a long life, filled with both joy and sorrow. He had witnessed the changing seasons, the rise and fall of empires, the ebb and flow of human emotions. And yet, despite all that he had seen and experienced, he still felt a sense of wonder when he looked out at the vastness of the ocean.
The sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The old man watched as the colors shifted and blended, a masterpiece created by the hand of nature. He closed his eyes, a sense of peace washing over him. He was ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that he had lived a life filled with love, loss, and everything in between.
“It doesn’t seem like you’re very sorry, Count?”
“Hnnng…!”
See that?
The moment I spoke with a slightly sarcastic tone, the tightening intensified, and my legs gave way.
Siwoo reached out and grasped the Count’s chest, which hung like a luscious fruit. The softness, as expected, filled his palm.
“Ah, no, Siwoo… I, I’m trying my best to move…”
“Hard work, huh…”
Siwoo subtly grasped the Count’s hip.
그리고 딱 한 번 허리를 튕겨 깨작거리는 백작님의 자궁입구를 꾹 눌러주었다.
The world was a stage, and I was merely a player.
That was the kind of thought that often crossed my mind.
I wasn’t particularly special. I was just an ordinary person, living an ordinary life. I had a job, a home, and a few friends. I wasn’t rich, nor was I poor. I wasn’t particularly smart, nor was I particularly dumb. I was just… me.
But sometimes, when I looked up at the night sky, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to life than this. Was there a grand design, a cosmic plan that I was a part of? Or was I just a random collection of atoms, floating through the universe?
I didn’t have any answers. All I had were questions.
And so, I lived my life, one day at a time. I went to work, I came home, I ate dinner, I went to sleep. And then I did it all over again.
It wasn’t a particularly exciting life, but it was my life. And I was going to make the most of it.
One day, I was walking home from work when I saw something strange. It was a small, black cat, sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. It was staring at me with its big, green eyes.
I had never seen a cat like this before. It was so black, it was almost like a shadow. And its eyes were so green, they seemed to glow in the dim light.
I stopped walking and stared at the cat. It didn’t move. It just kept staring at me.
I felt a strange pull towards the cat. It was like it was calling to me.
I took a step closer. The cat didn’t move.
I took another step. The cat still didn’t move.
I was now standing right in front of the cat. I reached out my hand to pet it.
The cat didn’t flinch. It just kept staring at me.
I gently stroked its head. The cat purred.
It was a deep, rumbling purr that seemed to vibrate through my entire body.
I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. It was like I had finally found something that I had been searching for my entire life.
I didn’t know what it was, but I knew that I had to follow this cat.
I picked it up and held it in my arms. The cat snuggled into my chest.
I started walking home, the cat still in my arms.
I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew that I was going somewhere.
And I knew that this cat was going to lead me there.
– *Chuk!*
– *Pshhh! Pshhh! Pshhh!*
“Hoooook…! Hhh…! Kyaaahng…!”
At the same time, the Countess lost her balance and collapsed.
She had only been stabbed once, but her body, already sensitive from various stimuli, immediately reached orgasm.
Lucy Yesod juice flowed out in streams from the narrow gap.
The Countess, who was bouncing her hips back and forth like she was doing an ugly dance, embraced even more pleasure from the aftereffects of the movement.
The count’s legs, which had been bent as if he were simultaneously urinating, completely gave way. His soft body nestled deeply into Siwoo’s arms.
“Haa…! Haa…! Haa…”
Grasping my pelvis firmly was the best choice.
If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to avoid the great disaster of a penile fracture.
Siwoo realized how much the fulfillment of a fetish affected the quality of an orgasm.
Even though we haven’t really started yet, the climax is much more intense than before.
Count Yesod clung to Siwoo, his whole body trembling as if he were sobbing.
The lower part was a given.
Siwoo’s pants, as well as his shirt, were a mess, to the point where they would have to be washed.
“You’ve dirtied it again…”
“Hic… Hng… I’m, I’m sorry… Siwoo…”
“If you’ve done wrong, you should be punished, shouldn’t you?”
A second confirmation to ask the Count’s intentions.
And Count Yesod’s reply to that was….
“…Pun…ish me….”
It was another okay.
The Count lay on the table at waist height, his back against it, like meat being prepared on a cutting board.
His arms were hooked behind his knees, hugging them tightly, his legs spread wide in a vulgar pose.
Naturally, this was Siwoo’s order.
His eyes, filled with anticipation, trembling with fear, and soaked in lust, were fixed on Siwoo.
“It seems to me that the Count is wetting himself too often, like a bed-wetter. I think he might need a little training.”
The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.
It was a small, antique-looking music box. The kind you might find in a dusty corner of an old antique shop. The surface was a dark, polished wood, and the carvings were intricate, almost like vines twisting around each other. I didn’t remember buying it, and there was no card attached.
“Who sent this?” I muttered, turning the box over in my hands.
I had no idea. I hadn’t been expecting any gifts, to be honest. My birthday was just another day, and I wasn’t the type to throw a big party. I lived alone, worked a part-time job at a convenience store, and spent most of my free time reading novels.
I opened the lid. A delicate melody began to play, a tune I’d never heard before. It was melancholic, yet strangely comforting. I found myself staring at the tiny ballerina figurine inside, slowly twirling to the music.
The music box was beautiful, but it was also unsettling. It felt like it held a secret, a story waiting to be told. I placed it on my desk, intending to examine it more closely later.
That night, I had a strange dream. I was standing in a vast, empty space, surrounded by swirling colors. The music from the box echoed around me, and I could feel a strange pull, as if something was trying to draw me in.
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding. The music box was still on my desk, silent. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different, that the music box was more than just a pretty trinket.
The next day, I went to work as usual. The convenience store was quiet, and I spent most of my shift stocking shelves and checking out the occasional customer. But my mind kept drifting back to the music box.
“You seem distracted today,” my coworker, Minji, said, leaning against the counter. “Something on your mind?”
“It’s nothing,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Just a weird dream.”
“Dreams can be weird,” she said with a shrug. “But sometimes they mean something.”
I didn’t say anything, but her words lingered in my mind. Could my dream have been a message? Was the music box trying to tell me something?
That night, I decided to try something. I wound up the music box and listened to the melody, focusing on the feeling it evoked. As the music played, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander.
Suddenly, I felt a jolt, like a surge of energy coursing through me. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my room. I was standing in a different place, a place I had never seen before.
It was a forest, bathed in a soft, golden light. The trees were tall and ancient, their leaves shimmering like emeralds. The air was filled with the scent of flowers and damp earth.
I was terrified, but also strangely excited. I had no idea how I had gotten here, but I knew that the music box was somehow responsible.
I took a step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. This was just the beginning of my adventure.
시우는 그 앞에 선 채 적나라하게 드러난 백작의 보지를 바라보았다.
안 그래도 통통한 둔덕이 애액을 머금은 것인지 더욱 도담하게 보인다.
And the target for punishment was the Count’s cum-rag switch.
커다랗게 부푼 음핵이었다.
“Are you prepared? You absolutely cannot lose your posture.”
Honestly, I wanted to try it from the first time I saw it.
It’s the first time I’ve seen a clit so distinct, round, and pretty.
Siwoo gathered his energy into his finger, like he was about to flick a tiddlywink.
The count’s gaze, now tinged with a hint of bewilderment, followed Siwoo’s fingertips, as if wondering if he still had no idea what was about to happen.
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 hands, gnarled and calloused, moved with a practiced ease as she kneaded the dough, the rhythmic thud a familiar sound in the small kitchen. The aroma of garlic and chili filled the air, a comforting scent that had permeated the walls of this house for generations.
“Hurry up, you slowpoke,” she grumbled, her voice raspy but not unkind. “The sun’s already high, and we’ve got a lot to do.”
I chuckled, my own hands clumsy compared to hers. “Yes, Grandma,” I replied, trying to keep up with her pace. The dough felt sticky and resistant, a stark contrast to the effortless way she handled it.
She glanced at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You’ll get the hang of it,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Just like your mother did.”
A pang of sadness hit me at the mention of my mother. It had been years since she passed, but the wound still felt fresh. I missed her laughter, her warm hugs, and the way she always knew how to make me feel better.
“I miss her,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Grandma’s hands stilled for a moment, and her gaze softened. “Me too, child,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But we have to keep going. That’s what she would have wanted.”
I nodded, my throat tight. She was right. We had to keep going. We had to keep living.
We continued to work in silence for a while, the only sound the rhythmic thud of the dough and the occasional clatter of utensils. The sun streamed through the small window, casting long shadows across the kitchen. It was a simple scene, but it was filled with a quiet beauty.
“Okay, that’s enough dough for today,” Grandma said, breaking the silence. “Let’s get started on the kimchi.”
I groaned, but I couldn’t help but smile. Making kimchi was a long and arduous process, but it was also a tradition that I cherished. It was a way to connect with my ancestors, to keep their memories alive.
We spent the rest of the morning preparing the kimchi, our hands stained red with chili paste. We laughed, we talked, and we shared stories. It was a day filled with love, loss, and the simple joys of life.
As the sun began to set, we sat down to eat the meal we had prepared. The kimchi was spicy and flavorful, and the rice was fluffy and warm. It was a simple meal, but it was the best meal I had ever tasted.
“Thank you, Grandma,” I said, my heart full.
She smiled at me, her eyes filled with love. “You’re welcome, child,” she said. “Now, let’s clean up and get some rest. We have another busy day tomorrow.”
I nodded, feeling grateful for this life, for this family, and for this moment. The world outside might be chaotic and unpredictable, but here, in this small kitchen, everything felt right.
“열대만 때리겠습니다.”
“…Yes…?”
And when that hand was placed in front of the Count’s wide-open crotch.
It seemed he finally sensed what was about to happen.
“Wait, wait, wait a minute…! Siwoo…! If you do that…. Kyaaaaah…!”
But it was too late.
The sound of Siwoo’s flick echoed, and the moment the bead was sent flying, the Count’s back arched with a shriek.
At the same time, a squirt of fluid shot out as if he’d actually wet himself.
“Haa…! Haa…! Haaah…! Haaah…!”
Meanwhile, the Count was clutching his thighs tightly, his body trembling.
No, he wasn’t deliberately holding onto his legs.
It was just that his muscles had tensed up so much while holding them that he couldn’t let go.
“Haaah…. Haaah…. Haaahhh…. Haaahhh…!”
The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.
It was a small, antique-looking music box. The kind you’d see in old movies, with a ballerina spinning on top. The box was made of dark wood, intricately carved with patterns that looked like vines and leaves. It was beautiful, but also a little eerie.
I found it on my doorstep, no note, no return address. Just this mysterious box. I tried to remember if I’d ordered anything online, but nothing came to mind. I was a bit creeped out, but curiosity got the better of me.
I wound the key on the side, and a delicate melody began to play. It was a tune I’d never heard before, but it was strangely familiar, like a forgotten memory. The ballerina on top started to spin, her tiny porcelain face serene.
As I listened, I felt a strange pull, a sense of being drawn into the music. The room around me seemed to fade, and I felt like I was floating. It was a bizarre sensation, both unsettling and strangely comforting.
When the music stopped, the room snapped back into focus. I was still sitting on my couch, the music box in my lap. But something felt different. The air seemed charged, and I felt a strange tingling in my fingertips.
I looked at the music box again, the ballerina still. I had no idea what it was, or where it came from, but I knew one thing: my life had just taken a very strange turn.
The day I turned twenty, I received a strange gift.
It was a small, antique-looking music box. The kind you might see in an old movie. The surface was a dark, polished wood, and intricate silver carvings adorned it. When I opened the lid, a delicate melody began to play. It was a tune I’d never heard before, yet it felt strangely familiar, like a forgotten memory.
The music box was accompanied by a letter. The handwriting was elegant, almost calligraphic, and the ink was a deep, faded blue.
*To my dearest daughter, on your twentieth birthday.*
*I know this may come as a surprise, but there are things I must tell you. Things I should have told you a long time ago.*
*This music box is more than just a pretty trinket. It holds a secret, a power that has been passed down through our family for generations. It is the key to unlocking a world beyond your wildest imagination.*
*I know this sounds unbelievable, but please, trust me. Listen to the music, and let it guide you. You will know what to do.*
*With all my love,*
*Your Mother*
My mother had passed away when I was very young. I barely remembered her face, let alone her voice. This letter, this music box, it was all so surreal.
I stared at the music box, the melody still playing softly. It was a haunting tune, both beautiful and melancholic. I felt a strange pull towards it, a sense of destiny.
I closed my eyes, letting the music wash over me. And then, everything changed.
The room began to spin, the walls blurring into streaks of color. I felt a strange sensation, like I was being pulled apart and put back together again. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my room.
I was standing in a forest. The trees were tall and ancient, their leaves a vibrant shade of emerald green. The air was crisp and clean, and the scent of wildflowers filled my nostrils. It was a place of breathtaking beauty, a place that felt both familiar and utterly alien.
I looked down at my hands. They were the same, yet somehow different. I felt lighter, more agile. I was wearing clothes I didn’t recognize, a simple tunic and trousers made of a soft, natural fabric.
I was no longer in my world. I had been transported to another place, another reality. And it was all because of that strange, little music box.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. This was real. This was happening. And I had no idea what to do next.
But one thing was certain. My life had just taken a very unexpected turn.
슬쩍 벌어진 보지구멍이 경련하듯 벌렁거리는 것이 보인다.
박자를 맞춰 그 아래 꽃망울과 클리 역시 움찔거림을 미칠 듯이 반복한다.
The once-clean table was instantly soiled with ejaculate.
I didn’t even hit that hard…
What is this, it’s scary.
But the role-playing isn’t over yet.
“My Lord, you seem to be enjoying this too much?”
“Haa… Hnn… Siwoo… This is too much….”
“There are still nine more left. And…”
Siwoo mercilessly delivered another flick to the Count’s forehead.
“Kyaaaaak…!”
This time, his arms were loosening, and he was trying to let go of his legs, so I firmly secured them with ribbons.
“You didn’t say you came this time either, you just went.”
-Thwack!
“Kyaaang…! Stooop! Siwoo…! I came…! I came…!”
-Thwack!
“Just once…! Just let me rest…! Kyaaang…! Hnn… Haaah…! I came again… Now…”
-Thwack!
“Haaah… Hnnng… Kyaaang…!”
Even though I was hitting him more gently, the Count’s reactions were becoming more intense.
But, it was as if each hit was stacking up the climaxes, as his reactions were getting more and more intense.
However.
-Thwack!
“Kkeueup…!”
After the last hit, the Count’s body twitched violently and then slumped.
The excessive pleasure had finally blown the Count’s fuse.
