Chapter 1 — +3 Hooker Pussy Orgasm Story

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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It was just a few days ago.

David was writing this down so he'd never forget the sex with her.

It all started when he finally met up with his buddy for drinks after ages.

He called him out for some soju, so they headed to a nearby fried chicken place, ordered Set #1 with side dishes, and started shooting the shit over a few rounds.

They were talking about how he'd finally paid off half his credit card debt when suddenly, the conversation turned to sex.

He started saying how much he wanted to get laid.

Feeling generous, David told him he'd cover the cost—just pick where they're going.

Three options: massage parlor, illegal massage parlor, or full-service bar.

His friend, usually big on value, picked the full bar first, but since it was far from home and a pain to get to, David cut him off.

“Ah, screw it! Let's just go to an illegal massage parlor,” he said, making the call himself.

He immediately searched online, recognized a place he'd been to before, clicked right in, and called the number listed.

They said they had standard-tier and premium-tier girls available.

Base rate was 130k, so premium-tier meant 160k—top-tier girls.

He'd had lower-tier girls and mid-tier girls before—lower-tier girls were total garbage, absolute bitches. But from mid-tier and up, you started getting women who looked like actual human beings, maybe even descendants of a legendary beauty.

Since he was paying, David picked the 160k girl. His friend could take the 150k one.

He asked for the address, and it came through by text.

Heart pounding, he hailed a taxi and rushed over—only for the damn driver, some clueless prick, to take the most convoluted route imaginable.

Fed up, he made him stop halfway and navigated the rest with Naver Maps.

It'd been months since he'd last visited an illegal massage parlor. Either the police crackdowns had gotten worse or the system had changed, but when he arrived and called, they told him to go to the front of the convenience store.

As he walked, a voice came through the phone: “Stop for a sec, turn around—see that car with the lights on? Get in.”

What the fuck? This isn't some escort service—this is an illegal massage parlor, not a pickup gig.

Still, he got in.

Turns out the girls weren't at the same building. And yeah, with the raids, they had to do it this way now.

Anyway, he shoved 310,000 won into the driver's hand—160k for him, 150k for his friend—and was told his girl was waiting in Room 508 of the second building to the left across from the convenience store.

If you're curious, ring the bell at 508 and see for yourself.

Finally, he was inside—the moment he'd been waiting for.

But holy shit—what the fuck was this?

Among all the illegal massage parlor girls he'd ever seen, this one was insanely hot.

He actually thought, “Why the fuck is this girl working here?”

She was easily good enough to work at a high-end room salon—mid to high tier, no question.

Why the hell was she spreading her legs here for cash?

You can imagine the rest.

But it wasn't just her face—her body was the kind you'd see walking down the street and think, “Damn, that girl's got a perfect, slender figure.”

Her tits were around a B cup, but the curves? I swear, top 5% of any historical beauty's wet dream.

She looked about 167 to 170 cm tall, and even with clothes on, her back view was insane.

He quickly scanned her in, then settled into the usual illegal massage parlor time-killer routine—drank some juice, smoked a cigarette.

She started sucking up: “Honey, you're so smooth with words.”

“Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna wash up first,” he said, heading to the bathroom.

He'd already showered before drinking, so he just rinsed off quickly and came out.

Meanwhile, she went in to clean up.

Suddenly, he got an overwhelming urge to shoot a hidden cam video.

He downloaded a silent camera app, but damn—it was impossible to record without it looking obvious.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, scrambling to hide the screen.

But before he could figure it out, the bitch had already washed and come back out.

Afraid she'd catch him, he quickly opened a group chat, pretended to scroll through messages, then put the phone down and lay on the bed.

The photo at the top? He was fumbling around trying to find the video button and accidentally took this one.

Naturally, he expected the standard illegal massage parlor routine—blowjob first, then woman-on-top position.

But no—this immoral whore just climbed straight onto the bed.

He stared for about ten seconds. “What the hell? Is this her concept now?”

She didn't seem to have any intention of doing anything.

Once again, he was reminded of the golden rule of nightlife: good service means ugly girls; pretty girls mean bad service. If both are good, it's expensive.
Yeah, he just made that up, but it holds.

Damn it. She was in the service industry, but clearly had zero intention of serving.

So he decided to take charge.

He lunged in and kissed her hard.

And damn—she kissed incredibly well.

As he kissed her, he started jerking her pussy with his hand. Her touch was so good, his dick stood up instantly.

After kissing, he sucked on her neck, then her tits—just once—then moved down.

No mention of a condom.

Oh hell yeah. Bareback pussy orgasm it is.

He went straight for penetration.

But right then—“Ah! No, honey, we have to use a condom!”

He instantly thought, “This bitch won't even suck my dick bare, and she wants a condom too?”—and he was pissed.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Then suck it first.”

And just like that, she obeyed.

She sat up, took his dick in her mouth, and started.

“Wow, honey, your cock is so big~” she cooed.

Her blowjob began with that line—and her tongue work was just as stunning as her looks.

She moved her tongue like a goddamn anaconda, swirling and sliding, sucking him deep.

He wasn't easily impressed by blowjobs, but this one? “I need to get inside her—now.”

When he finally said, “Let's do it,” she immediately fetched a condom.

Just in case, he asked, “Can we do it without?”

She shot back, “No. Absolutely not.”

Out of ten illegal massage parlor visits, maybe one girl will let you go bare. If you're into bareback pussy orgasms, keep asking.

Anyway, he put on the condom and went in.

They kissed as he entered—her tongue work alone was a feast fit for heaven.

He groped her tits, then mounted her hard.

Truth is, he's always hated condoms. They kill sensation. He's had a dick that doesn't cum easily with condoms since forever.

They fucked for about twenty minutes. The alcohol kicked in, he was sweating, and the AC was on—but it was weaker than a damn Geumseong fan. He was getting hot and angry.

He'd paid 160,000 won—this wasn't manual labor.

He couldn't take it anymore. It was time to use his secret move: The condom removal during position change.

A technique he'd perfected over countless nightlife escapades. Simple to execute.

Mid-fuck in missionary, he'd say, “Hey, let's do it from behind,” and tap her ass.

She'd automatically roll over.

For just a split second, their bodies would separate.

That's when he'd rip the condom off with his hand.

Sure, if you get caught, you'll get blocked and kicked out. But hands are faster than dicks.

This time was no different.

He didn't miss the timing—he pulled the condom off and immediately thrust bareback into her from behind.

While pulling it off, the lube and her juices on his hand could've raised suspicion when he grabbed her hips, so he held her waist with his left hand.

With his right—slick with her wetness—he quickly wiped it on the blanket.

And just like that, bareback pussy orgasm began.

The sensation was nothing like with a condom. Bliss flooded his body.

Fucking her from behind, his frustration at her lack of service turned into raw, violent thrusts.

She moaned, “Mmm, honey… gently… please…”

He kept slamming into her, bareback, ecstatic.

Finally, he hit orgasm—and finished it clean: bareback, deep inside her pussy.

He stayed inside, grinding a few more times until his dick softened, then collapsed on her back.

She said, “Honey, tired? Want to switch positions?”

He said, “Wait—I paid. Why's it so big?”

She just smiled and said, “Wow, you're huge,” like it was part of the script.

Anyway, he pulled out. She reached to take the condom off.

Like hell he'd let her.

He'd already removed it when she turned over.

Then she said, “Huh? Honey, where's the condom?”

He played dumb. “Huh? I don't know. I just did it.”

She finally realized what happened.

She started searching—“Where is it?”—and remembered the one he'd taken off earlier.

He'd already hidden it under the towel on the bed.

She lifted the towel. “Ah! Here it is!”

She picked it up, inspected it.

No way his sperm was still in there. It was already deep inside her.

She looked at the empty condom.

Her face twisted in rage.

“…Shit. Big problem… You came inside…?”

He played innocent again. “Huh? I don't know. I just came.”

She gave him one cold glare, then said, “I'm gonna wash up,” and headed to the bathroom.

He lay back on the bed, basking in the triumph of having bareback-fucked a stunning, slender woman.

160,000 won? Not a single regret.

Time passed. He washed up, stepped out—

And right then, the call came: “Time's up.”

He lit a cigarette, gave her one last kiss—hard, deep—and slammed the illegal massage parlor door shut behind him.

Before leaving, he tossed one final line over his shoulder:

“If you get pregnant, call me.”

Though, of course, he never gave her his number.