a-summer-nights-dream

The time I got out of the taxi was past midnight.

But since the company dinner had ended earlier than usual, I still felt a lingering regret about not drinking more.

The streets were bustling, and the flashy neon lights endlessly tempted my heart.

On a night like this, I thought it might not be a bad idea to head to one of those mysterious-looking places labeled as cafés.

Going alone to a beer hall on the main road would be too pathetic, so I decided it was better to go straight to a café.

A place I'd visited a few weeks ago. I remembered it as 'Jazz Passion,' and I walked toward it as if drawn by a spell.

With nothing urgent to do, I slowly walked, savoring the swaying crowds and the thick, muddled sounds around me.

I turned into an alley and walked for a while.

I was passing through a street lined with love motels.

That's when I noticed a woman slumped on the sidewalk between buildings, swaying unsteadily.

At first, I intended to just walk past.

Helping a woman like that wouldn't just be laughable.

Besides, picking her up didn't particularly appeal to me.

Besides, there were many passersby, so it didn't seem easy to just casually take her.

Still, my gaze didn't leave her.

The curve of her prominent breasts was projected in the streetlight, stirring strange feelings inside me.

The sight of two rounded mounds connected like hills—partially hidden by her clothes, yet visible enough—

made it feel somehow improper to just walk away.

Naturally, my steps turned toward her.

I didn't care about the onlookers' stares.

If I were to falter under their gaze, or give up because of them, wouldn't that mean I wasn't a true professional?

"Hey! What the hell are you doing sitting on the street? Get up quickly!"

I raised my voice sharply, as if scolding her.

If I had awkwardly said, "Miss, would you like to have a drink with me?" or "Can I help you? You seem really drunk...", I'd have been rejected 100%.

No matter how broken a woman might seem, in such a situation her senses would snap awake, and her guard would rise to the highest level.

Call it survival instinct?

That's why I had to catch her off guard.

I needed to pick a fight, and appear to the passersby as if I knew her.

The woman was still out of it.

She just opened her eyes slightly, then immediately dropped her head again.

I had to deliver the decisive line.

"Get up quickly. Let's go home."

Then I tried to pull her up. She seemed completely disoriented about what was happening.

Still, despite her confusion, she asked a bewildered question, though clearly on guard:

"Hey, do you know me?"

"No more talk. Just get up. How could you drink so much? You can't even stand properly. This is serious."

I half-lifted her, then leaned her back against the wall again.

A few people glanced and hurried past. Probably thinking she looked utterly pathetic.

The guys who had been lurking around, drooling, probably gave up and walked away.

Some might be pounding the ground in despair, while others breathed sighs of relief.

And someone else would probably envy me deeply.

Maybe a few had already tried hitting on her and fled after being chased away.

Others likely watched her from across the street, drooling through the convenience store window.

But what can you do? Only the brave get to have her!

I pretended to make a phone call.

"Hey, I don't think I can make it there tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Looks like I'll have to stay with her for now."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it."

"Annoying, but what can I do? I'm completely drunk. See you tomorrow."

I leaned close to her and whispered into her ear.

"How could you drink so much? Did you have a company dinner?"

"A class reunion. You're from our class, right? Seung-joon was supposed to come."

"Which graduating class are you from?"

I needed information to calm her down and keep the conversation going.

When an ordinary person is drunk, they tend to repeat the same things over and over.

So, if I collected just a little information, I could answer her questions appropriately and keep the conversation flowing.

Then I could naturally have my way with her.

"30th graduating class of Y.Y Elementary School. Are you Seung-joon?"

"Yeah, I came as soon as you called."

"Want another drink?"

"You're really drunk. Let's rest a bit and think about it later."

I pulled her up, almost carrying her.

Her figure was tastier than I expected.

An appropriate height, an appropriate build.

A pleasantly curved body, and the texture of her skin visible through her thin dress.

The elastic, pale skin of a young woman sent shivers through my fingertips straight to my head.

She was sensual.

Her facial curves were sharp, her lips full, the gentle curve trailing from her earlobe, her nose elegantly shaped.

And occasionally, her warm, slightly dazed eyes would lift.

I felt like I'd won the lottery.

Who would've thought such a day would come for me!

Back in my reckless days, I'd sometimes drink and hastily satisfy my lust.

Back then, I just needed to release, so I didn't care about the condition of the woman.

As long as she wasn't repulsive and looked somewhat like a woman, I'd hit on her without hesitation.

Even at the occasional cabaret I visited, meeting a woman this good wouldn't have been easy.

I half-dragged her as I walked one block.

She kept muttering, but I kept talking.

The limp, drunken woman felt very heavy.

As soon as I turned into the alley, I headed straight for a visible love motel.

"One room, please."

I took the key, reading the clerk's look of disdain, and climbed the stairs.

Fortunately, it was on the second floor. I was bothered that it was too close to the front desk.

But if I had to drag this heavy woman any farther, I might collapse before getting to do anything, so I chose a room near the entrance.

As we climbed the stairs, she screamed loudly, muttered to herself, and asked me random questions.

I opened the door, put her on the bed, and lit a cigarette.

I wondered how I should take her.

I reviewed the situation.

I had lured her just enough—she was now on my dining table.

She probably thought, vaguely, that she was with a man she knew, somewhere.

When she sobered up, she'd likely storm out immediately.

So, although it wasn't gentlemanly, I had no choice but to take her while she was still drunk, right?

The idea of taking a drunken woman—and doing so completely without her consent—bothered me somewhat, but I couldn't give up now.

Besides, hadn't I already paid the motel fee? I'd already made the investment.

Fine, just take her!

Once I'd decided, I felt at ease.

My tension melted away.

Still, even a man in his right mind should show basic decency by washing up.

I quickly stripped off my clothes and went into the bathroom.

I gave my cock a little massage to get myself in the mood.

As soon as I dried myself with a towel, I laid her down properly.

Then I unbuttoned her blouse.

After rolling her around and stripping off her clothes, her naked body was fully exposed.

Her skin was extremely pale.

When I unhooked her bra, her breasts looked like freshly steamed rice cakes, steaming hot.

My favorite rice cakes.

Like warm, fluffy rice cakes with delicious black raisins—her nipples—adorably placed on top.

I first scanned her body with my eyes.

Then I began to trace her with my hands.

Hands, then waist, then breasts.

The sensation under my fingertips made the hairs on my neck stand up.

I moved my hands back to her waist and pulled down her light pink panties.

Dark pubic hair shyly came into view.

She moved her smooth legs and turned over.

Her round buttocks came into sight.

I sat beside the bed, staring intently at her backside.

The beauty of the female body—I'd heard about it so much.

But seeing her naked body now, my mouth fell open.

I could finally understand why so many artists endlessly tried to elevate the beauty of the female body into art.

Since she was lying with her legs slightly bent and her body leaning forward, even her most private area was clearly visible.

Nowadays, I'd probably take photos of every inch of her body with my phone camera.

To preserve the memory of her for a long, long time.

But back then, such things weren't common, and just seeing her with my eyes made my cock swell up, ready to burst.

Still, I couldn't just thrust in immediately.

She was too delicious a meal for that.

I wanted to savor her slowly, course by course.

First, I pressed my body against hers.

A comfortable warmth washed over me, like being embraced by my hometown.

While gently kneading her, she didn't move much.

What I was doing to her now.

Was only possible because she didn't properly recognize my existence.

I turned off the light.

I wanted to feel the visual pleasure more, but I was worried about her reaction after intense movements.

To keep her from realizing I was a stranger, I had no choice but to give this up.

I started from her legs, licking them with my tongue.

I used my tongue to memorize each of her legs, then moved up to her thighs.

Feeling the delightful elasticity of her thighs, I found her vagina.

I pressed my tongue against it and chewed it slowly.

I put my tongue into her hole and twisted it around. I gently licked her clitoris.

At some point, her body began to writhe, and soft moans started to escape her lips.

I raised my body and slowly brought my cock to her vagina.

My angry cock was eager to slide right into her body.

I kneaded her breasts, wanting my cock to feel them too.

Rubbing my cock against her breasts and moving it a few times—it was another delicious treat.

Like a refreshing palate cleanser before the main course.

I couldn't hold back any longer.

I lifted her legs and started thrusting in and out.

She seemed to have some experience.

My cock slipped in smoothly.

The moans escaping her lips grew louder.

Even though she was drunk, her body instinctively responded to my piston-like movements.

Squeezing and releasing.

I pressed my body tightly against hers and savored her deliciously.

I kissed her face, opened her lips, and gave her a deep kiss.

She seemed to regain some awareness and asked again who I was.

I parroted back the bits of information I'd picked up from her, continuing to take her.

She seemed reassured, her body trembling, and I moved even more fiercely.

Then I was startled.

Her moans suddenly turned into sharp cries.

How loud they were.

I kissed her again.

I groped her breasts.

I kept a steady rhythm.

Then I increased my speed as much as possible, pounding her vagina.

She couldn't hold it anymore, scratching my back and sobbing.

Her body knew men too well.

She was a woman who made sounds perfectly in tune with a man's body.

From my body, life forms that hadn't seen the outside world in a long time began rushing into her vagina like a stampede.