Chapter 1 — At the Neighborhood Beauty Salon

In my neighborhood, there's a place called "Sarang Beauty Salon." The owner—and sole stylist—was a woman in her early thirties.

She looked young enough that you might believe she was single, though the occasional glimpse of children around four years old suggested she was married. She was delicate, almost fragile, and strikingly pretty.

She always wore a black dress that ran from her neck down to just above her knees. On lucky days, I could make out the faint gap between her bra and panties beneath the fabric.

I always made sure to wear jeans whenever I went there. The reason, I think, doesn't need explaining just yet.

When I sat in the chair, I'd firmly plant my arms on the armrests.

As she placed various tools on my shoulders and draped a wide cloth over me, I'd swallow hard, dry-mouthed.

Her soft hands would glide through my hair, and then the snipping of scissors would begin.

Before long, her thigh would brush against my forearm or hand as she focused on cutting. That's when my heart would start pounding uncontrollably.

On fortunate days, the back of my hand would graze her crotch.

She seemed to think it was just the edge of the armrest pressing against her.

Using my hand as support, she'd sometimes press her groin hard against the back of my hand.

At those moments, excitement surged so intensely I could barely stay seated—it was nearly impossible to suppress.

My favorite part was when she cut my bangs.

To trim the front, she'd always stand behind me, holding up a mirror, wrapping her arm around my head to guide the cut. In doing so, her warm breasts would press gently against the nape of my neck.

When the work grew more precise, it felt as if I were completely cradled in her arms.

My breath would grow ragged, my shoulders trembling with each inhale.

Just as the tension peaked, the cutting would end—always too soon.

By then, my cock, crushed under the weight of my jeans, would be rigid, straining horizontally. That was exactly why I always wore jeans.

Once, I forgot and showed up in sweatpants.

Even after the haircut ended, I couldn't get up right away.

My erection stood fully erect, the thin fabric of the sweatpants bulging obscenely.

Pretending to adjust my hair, I waited until she bent over to tidy up her tools—then quickly stood.

But flustered and off-balance, I stumbled forward, my hips colliding with the curve of her bent waist.

Naturally, my stiff cock brushed against her soft buttocks.

I don't remember how I paid or how I got home that day—but I do remember jerking off twice, violently, that night.

While imagining her slender waist, her tender ass...

After that, I visited two or three times more. But she treated me as usual, and I only dared feel her thighs and breasts again, nothing more.

Today, rain fell steadily. I got off the bus after work—already past nine.

Feeling my hair was messy, I thought about stopping by the salon, but it was probably too late.

“It should be closed by now…”

Still, I decided to check. As expected, the shutter was nearly closed.

Yet light seeped through.

I pushed open the half-lowered metal gate and stepped inside. She was sweeping the floor.

“Are you still open?”

She gave me a hesitant look.

“I was just about to close… but since you're here, please, sit down.”

I thanked her and took my seat.

“You're wearing a suit? First time I've seen you like this.”

She smiled faintly.

“No, I came straight from the office…”

She stared at me, still smiling.

Only then did I take off my jacket.

“Should I loosen my tie too?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable…”

I undid my tie.

Seated, she reached for the top button of my shirt, unfastening it and folding the collar neatly inward.

Her cool fingers brushed lightly across the upper part of my chest.

Then, as always, the snipping began. My arms and the back of my hand grazed her thighs.

The shutter was now fully lowered—no other customers coming. The sound of rain filled the silence, broken only by the occasional passing car.

It was nearing ten. We worked in silence, each absorbed in our own world.

The air felt damp, slightly warm, stifling.

She stood in front of me, working. Again, luckily, the back of my hand began to feel the soft mound of her groin.

I swallowed.

Just as her warmth settled fully against my hand, her phone rang.

Instinctively, I moved my hand—and she must have realized, suddenly, that the support she'd been leaning on wasn't the armrest's edge, but my hand.

The call ended quickly. I apologized, and she resumed her position.

She looked slightly flushed as she glanced at me.

I placed my arm back on the armrest as before. She began cutting again. The silence now was heavier, awkward.

Soon, her thigh touched my arm once more. I closed my eyes. But my breathing grew rough—so loud it must have been audible.

I tried to mask it with fake coughs, but it was useless.

Her mound pressed against the back of my hand again. She leaned on it just as before.

I could feel her hand trembling slightly as she cut.

I gathered courage. Slowly, I moved my hand—gently stroking up and down.

Bolder now, I caressed her more deliberately.

She flinched, pulling away abruptly.

“How about your bangs…?”

I coughed once, then asked her to continue as before.

I was so aroused my hand trembled as if convulsing. She must have felt it—her movements grew shaky.

But then, instead of cutting my bangs, she returned to tending my side hair, just like earlier.

Naturally, her groin pressed against my hand again.

Was it her ragged breathing that emboldened me? I turned my hand over and touched her crotch directly.

I felt the scissors tremble in her grip. I pressed harder, stroking her through the fabric.

She remained silent.

The scissors kept moving, but no hair fell.

I slipped my hand out from under the cloth covering my torso and began stroking her dress.

As if waiting for it, she pressed her body closer.

My hand shook violently. Her body quivered.

I slid my hand down, starting from her knees, slowly tracing upward.

The hem of her dress lifted, revealing smooth, pale, firm thighs.

Amusingly, even then, her meaningless snipping continued.

When my hand reached the hot fabric of her panties, the scissors dropped. Her hand shot to my shoulder for balance.

“Hnnn~~~”

Her panties were already wet. Standing, she wrapped her arms around my head. Her breasts pressed against my cheeks. I stroked over the soaked fabric.

The slit opened wider, growing wetter. She spread her legs. My fingers slipped beneath the panties.

“Haaa~~~”

Her arms tightened around my head, trembling.

My fingers sank naturally into her pussy.

“Krrrgh~~~”

Her hips swayed. Her tongue slipped into my ear.

A sharp wave of pleasure surged through my body. My fingers drew wide circles inside her, stirring her depths.

“Haaaaa~~~~~ Ummmm~~~~~~”

We didn't speak. Only moans escaped us.

We devoured each other's bodies.

She removed the bulky cape from my shoulders.

Her hands slipped under my shirt. She touched my nipples, then the other hand moved lower, gripping the bulge in my pants.

“Haaah~~~”

I let out a dry groan.

My hand withdrew from her pussy, sliding behind to tease her anus.

She shuddered again, her slick waist curling against me.

“There… hmm… there…”

Her hand tugged at my belt. Unbuckled. Pulled down the zipper. Gripped my hard cock through my underwear.

She fondled it for a long moment—then her head suddenly dipped toward my groin.

Soon, her soft tongue licked the tip of my cock.

“Haaaak~~~~~~~”

As her waist bent lower, I could reach her anus and pussy even more easily.

I straightened three fingers and thrust them deep into her pussy.

“Hnnnnnnn~~~~~~~~”

She moaned, then took my cock fully into her mouth. Her quick, nimble tongue drove me wild.

She sucked the head while jerking the shaft with her hand, pistoning rapidly.

It didn't take long before I felt myself nearing climax.

“Aah~ I'm gonna come~~~”

She abruptly pulled off, wiping her mouth, lifting her face.

The overwhelming sensation faded softly, like sinking into a downy blanket.

She climbed onto the dressing table with the mirror.

Spread her legs. Her pink, soaked panties lay exposed.

“Do it with your mouth…”

I knelt before her. Slipped off her slippers, then started licking from her toes upward.

When I reached her calves, then her knees, she shrieked.

As my tongue moved up her thighs, she twisted her hips.

“Uuuhhh, I can't… how… uuuu~~~~~”

Holding her ass in both hands, I licked along the inner thighs.

Her legs spread wider. The scent of her arousal filled the room.

Her soaked panties sagged, dark curls peeking through, glistening fluid dripping steadily.

I peeled the drenched fabric down.

Now freer, she flung her legs wide, hooking them over both sides of the table.

Her dark labia split open, inner lips twitching, glistening with wetness.

I curled my tongue and lightly flicked it against her.

“Hiiik~~~~ Haaaaaaa~~~~~~”

She nearly screamed. I licked both sides of her slit, then plunged my tongue deep inside.

Pulling back, I dragged my tongue from her anus all the way up to her clit.

She cried out, breathless.

“Hiiiiiiik~~~~~~ Aaaaaaaa~~~~~~~ Ah~!!!!!!!”

I repeated the motion three or four times.

“Uuuhh, I can't take it~~~~~~ Uuuhhhhhh~~~~~~”

Unable to endure anymore, she turned her back to me.

Spread her legs wide. I thrust my cock deep into her.

I came quickly.

Perhaps the foreplay had been too euphoric—the actual penetration didn't match its intensity. Yet we clung to each other for a long, long time.

I know nothing about her.

We never spoke afterward.

But I know we both wanted it… and that it rained that day. That's all.