Chapter 3 — Affair. 1 (3)

Black...

A short moan, and her chin tilts upward.

Every fine hair on her body seems to rise with tension, her flesh quivering faintly, whispering sensation to me.

Slowly, my lips begin a rapturous, radiant journey down the valley between her fully erect breasts.

One hand circles her breast, tracing soft orbits, while my lips sink into the deep hollow of her navel. My other hand glides past her hips, skimming over her firm buttocks before scattering across the resilient curve of her thigh.

Her writhing body trembles as if craving something, her slightly softened belly undulating heavily.

Her breathing grows ragged, heat rising from within, her body burning hotter with each passing second.

Is this feeling uncontrollable? She tenses and relaxes her thighs, exhaling deeply.

My lips, embarked on an endless journey, glide past her navel, descending steadily lower.

Her hips grow taut. I pass the slight tremor in her thighs, then gently bite her knee with my teeth. Her body jerks violently, flailing like a live fish gasping for air.

"Ah, there... there... huck."

Each time I softly, then fiercely, bite her knee, her body twitches as if setting everything ablaze. When I bite her toes, her entire frame convulses violently from side to side.

With my fingertips, I slowly trace the line of her leg, climbing like scaling a mountain.

Past her calf, past her knee and thigh—my journey toward her soft, curly thicket is unhesitating, her sigh-laced moans echoing endlessly in the dark room.

Her warmth is already overflowing—her spring seems unable to contain the gushing stream, spilling outward. I press my mouth to her, as if trying to capture every drop, digging into her wetness.

"Don't... ha..."

I relentlessly explore her body.

As if turning her into a handful of ash with nothing left to burn, I keep digging, digging deeper into her spring.

Her writhing... her muffled, stifled moans...

"Please. Do it now."

Her hands grab my head, pulling me upward.

My lips, still lingering with longing for her body, leave a long, damp trail as they climb her mountain once more.

Her body trembles again, waves crashing through her, and I, positioned between her legs, slowly lower my fully erect member into her most intimate place.

Is she trying to imprison me? Her lake slowly opens, revealing a depth I cannot fathom. My manhood hesitates, reluctant to surrender his body to the rippling water.

"Put it in..."

Her eyes tightly shut, she wraps her arms around my shoulders and blows hot breath into my ear.

"I can't hold back anymore... not now..."

It must have been the darkness. That relentless darkness must have given her courage.

Suddenly, her hips jerk upward, and my man, intoxicated by her warmth, helplessly plunges deep into the lake.

She accepts me, embracing my entire body as if she'd done this from the very beginning, with no gap between us.

Her arms, burning hot, clamp tightly around me.

Our motionless bodies—hers and mine—dare not move too quickly, afraid of losing the intense sensation in that aching place.

Her tongue plunges into my lips.

Like a child savoring a sweet candy, I slowly, very slowly, suck on her tongue.

Her body shows small movements, as if releasing tension, and I begin to explore her lake slowly, savoring it.

Deeper, deeper still—my man probes her spring as if testing its limits, sucking gently on her soft tongue.

"Huck..."

I slowly withdraw, then plunge into her again.

"Ah..."

Her ecstatic moans paralyze my reason. When her sweet tongue dances in my mouth, I can no longer hold back—I quicken the rhythm of my hips.

As my body rises, hers sinks; as I descend, her body rises to meet me.

It's like climbing a steep mountain—my breath grows ragged.

A train enters a long, dark tunnel.

Even in endless darkness, the train races forward without slowing, knowing its path.

A mountain burning fiercely...

A train racing endlessly along its track through the dark...

A single drop of sweat from my forehead falls onto her face. From her slightly parted lips come ecstatic moans and a sticky, sweet fragrance.

Her writhing flesh urges endless motion. The train, nearing the tunnel's end, races forward with ragged breath.

"Ugh."

Emerging suddenly from deep darkness, the train is struck by blinding light, dizzying and disorienting.

I tense my entire body and pull her tightly against me.

Her legs coil tightly around mine, her arms behind my back clenching with force.

I feel her hot, intoxicated breath against my ear.

I brush aside her tangled hair and press my lips to her flushed face.

Kissing her sweat-drenched forehead and burning cheeks, her chin lifts, seeking my mouth.

A deep kiss...

I turn on the dim light, pushing back the darkness.

After the storm of passion, she looks at me with a trembling expression.

"Do I look pathetic to you?"

"Why?"

"I just slept with someone I just met."

"Let's not say such things. By that logic, I'm in the same position."

"Okay."

"I'm glad too. Your body is warm, comforting..."

"It's been so long... Since my husband and I started fighting, I've never shared a bed like this."

"So your relationship really has deteriorated."

"Yeah..."

"Are you doing this out of hatred for your husband? Revenge?"

"..."

"That's certainly possible."

"No... I was just so lonely. So terribly lonely..."

"Yeah. I know it's a clumsy thing to say, but I hope I was some comfort to you."

"..."

I look into her eyes and gently take her hand.

Brushing away a few strands of hair stuck to her sweaty face, I softly kiss her lips.

Her lingering warmth still lingers on my lips.

Gently stimulating her lips with my tongue, hers slowly emerges to meet me.

When I softly rub her erect nipples with my fingers, she exhales another hot breath.

"Ah... there... there..."

"Does touching your breasts feel good?"

"Yeah."

"It might be hard to go again..."

Aware of my limp manhood, I say this, and she says it's okay—just touch me, she pleads.

Her face in the dim light—slightly furrowed—looks mysteriously alluring.

My lips gently brush her eyelids, then glide past her nose, her mouth, toward her ear.

Her writhing body, her hot breath—once again, I blow my hot breath deep into her ear.

She turns her head sideways as if unable to endure it, letting out an ecstatic moan.

Her hand softly descends onto the back of mine, resting on her chest, then gently pushes my hand downward.

Under the sheet, her sticky body flares up again, burning hot.

Below her curly mound, she guides me herself to her wet, glistening spot.

When I reach her lake, still brimming with moisture, her middle finger presses firmly on mine.

I gently nibble her nipple with my teeth and cautiously slide my middle finger deep into her lake.

"Huh... ugh."

With a death-rattle moan, her chest heaves upward.

"Ah. Good. Deeper, a little deeper. Don't judge me. Don't call me a bad woman."

She seems conflicted, still struggling with moral notions buried deep in her heart.

"No, I won't judge you. Never..."

Her hand follows the curve of my abdomen downward.

Her damp, sweaty hand grips my limp manhood, tightening with deliberate force.

"Ugh..."

Her touch breathes new life into me, sending fresh waves of sensation.

My fingers are already slick with her wetness, and unable to bear the unbearable thirst, I bring my mouth to her deep lake.

I dig into that spring, endlessly, drinking and drinking, yet it never dries.

Pressing her bucking hips down with both hands, I drink from her.

Her sweet, thick spring overflows endlessly, and her thighs, taut with effort, wrap tightly around my back.

"Come... I'm... ah... coming..."

Her moans, broken and continuous, drive me on.

---

Two seasons passed. It was early winter, the cold wind biting the skin. She looked somehow dark, her face shadowed.

"You, are you troubled about something?"

"No."

"Your face looks so dark. You look like you're carrying a burden...?"

"Let's talk about something else."

"Fine."

I felt uneasy seeing her dark expression.

We slowly walked along a deserted beach, the sea wind quite cold. I held her hand and tucked it into my jacket pocket.

Her frozen hands, chilled by the cold weather, gradually warmed in my palms.

She walked silently, slowly, her eyes downcast to the soft sand beneath her feet.

"The wind is cold."

"Yeah, it's a bit chilly."

"Let's go inside."

She looked into my eyes, squeezing my hand entwined in her pocket.

Her unusually hot body and her wildly, frantically moving tongue seemed to endlessly crave something.

After another storm of passion, she lay in my arms, gazing at me with sorrowful eyes.

As if trying to etch my face into her eyes...

"You do have something, don't you?"

"..."

"You seem like you want to tell me something. Tell me what it is."

"No, I have nothing to say. I'm so happy right now."

I sensed her voice trailing off, and a strange emptiness welled up in my chest.

"So that's how it was!"
"..."

My words, spoken like a monologue, met her silence—and her eyes, speaking volumes.

Trying to gather my scattered heart, as disordered as tangled bed sheets, I lit a cigarette.

"Cut down on cigarettes. They're bad for your health..."

"Yeah, I should quit."

"Cut back on smoking, and take care of yourself when you work. I know it's hard, but you need to stay healthy."

After stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray, I took her face in both hands and gently pulled her toward me.

The entwined dance of our tongues began again, and her hot breath settled once more against my ear.

I eagerly devoured her lips, her breasts, and her drenched, deep lake, trying to memorize every inch.

Her body, burning hot, can no longer endure—it surges toward climax with deep, long moans.

I vow to give her this passionate gesture, one I can never repeat.

My hands and lips endlessly travel along the curves of her womanly form.

After today passes, this moist, hot lake of hers will no longer exist.

The sweet, warm breath she poured into my ear—once today ends, it will remain only in memory.

As the sun sets and the evening grows colder, we stand facing each other, unsure what to say, how to say goodbye.

Her hands, tightly clenched in mine, still radiate warmth, trembling faintly—as if saying this is the last time, as if saying we'll never share this feeling again.

I put her in a taxi and got into my car, endlessly replaying the image of her retreating back.

---

A week passed. Life flowed on peacefully, as if nothing had happened. Just as the sun briefly emerged from behind the clouds and slipped back in, her call came—her farewell.

She would try again, she said.

Thanked me wordlessly for all the care she'd given me.

Worried about my health, concerned about hurting my feelings, I told her it was okay, that I was fine.

I said nothing.