Chapter 2 — A Married Woman's Affair (2)

"I won't ask for your body... not at first."

David Jang's voice was suddenly firm, decisive—like a man transformed. His tone carried a heavy, inescapable pressure, soaked in quiet authority.

"I only ask that you help me relieve a... biological need."

He looked directly at Sarah as he said it. It was, in essence, a negotiation.

"In return, I'll fully support your business venture."

Sarah had only two choices: accept this man's demand, or walk away and abandon everything. After a brief silence, she opened her mouth, as if a decision had been made.

"Can... something like that really happen here?"

"Of course. As long as you allow it."

"What exactly... do you want from me?"

Her question stemmed from his earlier words—I won't ask for your body. But then the man made his demand: he wanted her to bring him release with her mouth.

"No... I'd rather take it all... rather than do that."

To perform such an act with a stranger was unthinkable. It felt dirtier, more degrading. Surrendering her body seemed almost cleaner by comparison.

"If you do that... what more could I possibly want?"

Sarah lifted her skirt. She slightly raised her hips from the green velvet chair and slid her panties down to her ankles.

The man held his breath, his eyes locked onto every movement she made, every shift of her body.

His rough breathing tightened around her chest like a vice. Sarah removed her panties, pulled her skirt up, spread her legs, and closed her eyes.

Now, all that remained was his action.

She heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, then the zipper of his pants sliding down, followed by the rustle of fabric as he lowered them. Then, hot breath brushed against her cheek.

His strong hand tore through the front of her blouse and plunged toward her breasts—violating sacred territory that, until now, had only ever known her husband.

He pulled her to her feet, abruptly lifted one of her legs, and seated her on the desk. Then he lunged forward.

He seemed to have no patience for foreplay. There was no tenderness, only the raw, physiological need to empty himself.

It was as if he were a desperately ill patient rushing to the toilet—no sooner had he sat than he emptied himself in a relentless, unstoppable stream. With just a few thrusts of his hips, it was over. Done. Hollow.

Yet, even in that brief moment, Sarah's body had been intensely stimulated. A strange, indescribable thrill—unlike anything she'd ever felt with her husband—rippled through her entire body.

The instant that first stranger pushed into her, Sarah's entire body went numb. She felt herself growing slick, her most sensitive spot trembling wildly, and she nearly fainted from the overwhelming sensation.

Never before had she been so ready.

Ah~~!! So this is what it feels like to be moved by a man… Sarah screamed silently in her heart.

Her husband had been nothing compared to this man—nearly twice as endowed. As he thrust into her again and again, Sarah became so aroused that she nearly blacked out.

Oh… it feels so good…

Yet, on the outside, she showed nothing.

The man, barely finished, quickly hardened again and rammed into her once more. In the end, Sarah was with him twice.

And yes—she, too, had experienced pleasure so intense it left her feeling pleasantly numb.

It had been so long—ever since her husband fell ill.

When the man finished, he tucked himself away without wiping, then pulled up his pants. No matter how you looked at it, the scene resembled nothing so much as a man hastily leaving the restroom after relieving himself.

The awkward one was Sarah.

He hadn't wiped himself—how could she, as a woman, clean herself in front of him? Uncomfortable as it was, she had no choice. She pulled her panties back on and let her skirt fall.

Still, the day's outcome was good. She had, after all, lifted her skirt five times and allowed five complete strangers to be with her.

Her body felt as heavy as lead, but the satisfaction of achieving in one day the sales record she hadn't reached in months made the physical degradation seem meaningless.

In truth, Sarah had gone a full year without intimacy with her husband—so in the end, she had gained both pleasure and profit.

As she left the scene, a sticky, metallic-smelling fluid trickled down her thighs. Aside from that unpleasant sensation, Sarah felt as if she were flying.

The fluid running down her thighs was a combined masterpiece—five men's release, mixed together.

A few months later…

Sarah's sales graph began to rise steadily. The thickness of the cash in her hands grew heavier, too.

Life was finally becoming comfortable. But her husband, Geonho, who was supposed to be bedridden, grew increasingly lazy. Worse, he began stealing money from her earnings to spend on alcohol.

At first, it was small amounts. Then the sums grew larger. Eventually, Sarah began to smell another woman on her husband.

For a while, she ignored Geonho's indulgence. There was a trace of guilt in her own actions, after all.

Now, there was no physical contact between them at all. He played around with strange women; she, in turn, found pleasure in her own affairs.

Sarah had never felt so proud of her womanly body before. She had realized something profound: a woman's body, if properly nurtured, could give birth to wealth.

In her mind, her most intimate place had become nothing less than a golden egg-laying hen.

"I'm shocked… I never thought of it that way."

That was Miran's comment during a rare dinner together.

"What? What did I do to surprise you?"

"We don't need to pretend with each other!"

"Me? Pretend? When have you ever seen me pretending?"

"Anyway… I meant to ask earlier. Is your brother doing well?"

"My brother? Which one?"

"The one working as a site manager at the dam construction project!"

"What? That man is your brother?!"

"You didn't know? I told my brother I was sending you over!"

"No… I had no idea. You never mentioned it."

Sarah felt utterly exposed. That man was her sister's brother? And yet he had acted so coldly, humiliating her like that.

But never mind that…

From the beginning, the man had treated Sarah with unusual generosity. He looked to be just past forty, balding in a way that gave him a calm, dignified charm.

It wasn't surprising that Sarah felt a vague warmth toward him. Even in her thirties, she was the kind of woman men desired.

With her modest beauty and soft, inviting curves, she was more than capable of stirring the sexual impulses of middle-aged men.

And she carried within her a natural, almost instinctive quality—a born seductress—that made men believe, even if only for a moment, that they could have her.

Yet Sarah had never consciously tried to seduce any man. In fact, she wasn't even aware of this innate allure she possessed.

She shifted in her seat several times, then lifted one knee to relieve the numbness.

The moment Sarah raised her knee, the man's eyes darted wildly, like a dog in heat. He quickly stamped the documents, then sat back down, his face flushed red, coughing awkwardly to hide his arousal.

Well, with her knee raised, her white lace panties were fully visible—and a few strands of hair peeked out from the side. How many men could stay sane in such a situation?

Unaware of what had just happened, Sarah thanked him and left.

What a kind man…!!

She was thrilled—she'd secured the shop lease far more easily than expected. Back home, she crouched in front of her vanity and carefully reviewed the contract the man had signed.

With this, the first step was complete. She'd gotten the shop at a surprisingly low price. All that remained was renovation and opening.

Then, as she glanced toward the mirror, she froze.

Her reflection showed her seated with one knee raised.

Ah~~… so that's why…!!!

Now she understood. The man's flustered reaction, his blushing face—it was all because of this very pose.

With her knee up, the short skirt revealed her thigh, and deeper still, the curve of her panties became clearly visible.

Looking closer, she could even make out the faint outline of her most intimate area.

That's why he couldn't control himself…!!

Sarah remained frozen in that position, unable to move. She sat there, dazed, like someone struck by tens of thousands of volts, staring at her reflection.

That man saw me like this… and lost control…!!

What was he thinking when he saw me?

Did he imagine taking me right then and there…??!!

Her breathing grew ragged. This sudden surge of emotion was unlike anything she'd ever experienced—something she'd never even imagined possible.

The feeling of another man seeing her private parts was strange.

It wasn't like the shame of being caught using the toilet. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, a thrilling current danced across her skin.

Would she have felt this strange excitement if her husband had seen her? No—she was certain she wouldn't. She was always naked in front of him.

But this man was different. He wasn't her husband. He was another man entirely—and that was what stirred her emotions.

She had never imagined that the mere thought of a stranger glimpsing her most intimate place could ignite such desire.

And then… without realizing it, Sarah began to imagine a passionate affair with that man.

The man who had seen her pink panties…!! He must have imagined the dark forest hidden beneath that thin fabric.

She began to feel as if she had already given him her body.

Wasn't that the same as adultery…?? As the thought spiraled, her lower body began to tingle.

Then, she felt it—her body growing warm, moist, and slick.

How many years had it been since she last felt this?

She imagined him, thrusting powerfully into her. Her entire body went numb, her legs tensed, and her lower abdomen ached with desire.

Yet she didn't have the courage to touch herself.

Her husband occasionally brought her to arousal—but Sarah had never done it herself.

No—her body had never burned this hot before. Should I…?

And aside from a few times as a virgin, she had never been with another man since marriage.

Still, when she saw a decent-looking man on the street, she sometimes wondered: What would intimacy with him be like? Is he well-endowed? Or lean and firm? How is he in bed?—lewd thoughts she occasionally indulged, but never acted on. Just vague curiosity.

Cold sweat ran down her face. She had no way to control this sudden, unexpected arousal.

Her crotch was wet. She had never before had her underwear soaked just from imagination—but now, she could feel the dampness spreading.

She wondered how other women dealt with such feelings.

That evening, her husband returned home.

"Did everything go well today?"

"Yes. The owner was a kind person."

"That's good, then."

That night, Sarah threw her burning body at her husband.

"Honey… hold me…!!"

It was an unexpected, unprecedented act. But Sarah had no shame left after seven years of marriage.

She felt no resistance in being held by him. She could scream, moan, cry out as loudly as she wanted—she didn't care what he thought.

She writhed with pleasure she had never known, losing herself in wild, frenzied ecstasy. She burned like a madwoman, consumed by fire, until the flames within her finally subsided.

In that moment, what did dignity or pride matter? All she could do was express her emotion: I felt like I died at the peak of pleasure.

A short while later, Sarah buried her face in the sheets, motionless, as if freed from a brutal torture. Her entire body glistened with sweat, trembling in waves. Her most sensitive spot remained hard, unyielding.

Occasionally, her body twitched with brief, involuntary spasms. And as she listened to her husband's rough breathing, she thought of that man.

Yes—it wasn't her husband who had excited her like this. It was that man. The thought of him thrusting into her now made her shiver uncontrollably.

The next morning, Sarah sent her husband off to work and headed to the shop. From today, she needed to rush the interior decoration and open as soon as possible.

She met with the contractor, dealt with minor details.

But every now and then, she found herself lost in lewd thoughts, her body growing moist—startling herself. Then, suddenly remembering the man's handsome body, she'd feel herself wetting again, and flinch in surprise.

All men now seemed different to her.

How would this man treat a woman in bed?

Would he, like my husband, kiss and touch his wife intimately?

Then—

"How would you like to proceed?"

A man's voice, slightly louder, snapped her back to reality.

"Ah! Yes… what did you say just now?"

"Ma'am, are you feeling unwell?"

"No, I'm fine. What did you say?"

"I asked—do you like this design?"

"Oh! Yes… let's do it this way!"

Sarah smiled to herself, remembering last night. Does this clueless man have any idea what I was imagining? She scoffed inwardly. Just a dumb fool obsessed with work.

Must've overdone it last night… hehe.

Then, the shop door opened—and there he was again.

Oh… what should I do…!?

Her face flushed, her legs trembled. Her body tingled as if struck by electricity.

Instinctively, she covered the front of her skirt with her hand, as if his gaze could see right through the fabric.

"How is the shop coming along? Does it suit your taste?"

"Yes… it does…"

"This shop, despite its appearance, is a lucky spot—everyone who's run it has made money."

"I… hope… I can too…"

"You must earn a lot."

"Please help me."

"Help? With someone as beautiful as you? How could I not?"

Even such a trivial comment made something deep inside her grow wet. She thought of last night.

Then, she felt it—her core moistening, her body twisting with longing, as if melting, as if she wanted to throw herself completely into his arms…!!

Ah… I don't know why I'm like this… I'm going crazy… seriously!!

As if reading her mind, the man's voice dropped lower, becoming subtly suggestive.

"There's something… mysterious about you…!!??"

His voice seemed thick, almost sticky with desire.

The sharp-eyed shop owner left, satisfied with what he saw. After he left, Sarah felt as if a heavy, limp weight had settled on her chest—like the aftermath of an intense battle.

Then, five days later—exactly one day before the grand opening—they checked into Room 404 at Jeongneung Motel.

He was smarter, more subtly vulgar, and more dignified than she had imagined. It was the refined manner of a man in his forties, seasoned by years of experience.

They had dinner in a quiet, partitioned restaurant. Even as they ate, his fingers moved swiftly.

He made her laugh, warmed the mood, and skillfully used her laughter as a moment to let his fingers crawl up her thigh.

It was rude—but his touch was magnetic, sticky with intent.

In between, he asked her something, but she was so entranced by the movement of his fingers that she didn't hear the question. He was provocative, sensual, and deeply mysterious.

Sarah simply closed her eyes and savored him. The intense tactile and sexual stimulation he sent through her was enough to make her faint.

Touching, caressing, sucking, licking—his endless, masterful, reptilian-like sticky caresses overwhelmed her, and she finally burst into tears of ecstasy.

Even as Sarah reached the peak of pleasure, trembling in full-body rapture, he still didn't enter her.

His endurance was astonishing. He seemed satisfied simply by bringing her pleasure.

"Oh… please… please…!!"

When Sarah could no longer bear it and cried out, he would slide his skilled fingers inside her instead, extinguishing the fire just in time.

When she was finally too exhausted to writhe anymore, he moved closer.

"Ah~~~… ugh…!!"

Forcing through her soaked curls, that immense thickness plunged into her, already drained body, dragging her once more into the deep, endless abyss of pleasure.

With every thrust, a loud, wet slapping sound echoed from between her legs. Sarah thought: If there is such a thing as the most beautiful death for a woman, this must be it.

It wasn't until nearly five in the morning that Sarah, completely burned out and reduced to a husk, stepped out of the motel. It had truly been a magnificent night.

She still felt as if the man was still inside her—so relentlessly pounding. A night she would never forget. She had been with him nine times.

Her husband was overseas on business, and Sarah had planned to stay with him for several days—but the man claimed he had work, so she had no choice but to return.

They firmly promised to meet again the day after next, to make love one more time. Sarah slowly withdrew, filled with regret.

Even in the taxi on the way home, her entire body ached. Especially her lower half—it no longer felt like her own.