Chapter 1 — Drunk Wife

It had been so long since I'd come to the reunion, my friends insisted on punishing me for my absence with endless rounds of drinks.

Glancing beside me, I saw my wife wearing an awkward smile.

She probably wasn't happy seeing me drink far past her limit.

But she couldn't show her displeasure in front of my friends, so she forced a smile—though it was clearly a weak, uncomfortable one.

"Come on, my dear sister-in-law, have a drink too! When you're here, you've gotta drink like there's no tomorrow!"

Thomas, my high school buddy, shoved a glass toward my wife.

She hesitated, glancing at me briefly before accepting the cup and quietly sipping it.

Earlier that evening, before we'd left for the reunion, she'd told me with a shy smile that it was okay—that if she got too drunk and fell asleep, I could wake her if I needed her, or if I wanted to, I could take care of myself with her. "Just don't make too much noise," she'd teased, her cheeks pink. "I might be asleep, but I'm not dead." We'd both laughed, and I'd promised.

Time passed like that.

The heavy drinkers were still energetically crowding around the karaoke machine, trying to prove they still had the stamina of youth, while the more reserved ones quietly watched their friends' antics.

"Tired?"

I whispered softly to my wife, who was leaning against me, clearly exhausted.

She looked up at me.

I gently brushed her disheveled hair back from her face.

Then, she suddenly beamed and pressed her body tightly against mine.

"Honeyyyy~"

She was drunk. Definitely drunk. My usually dignified wife making such a childish, cooing sound?

If her mother saw this, she'd be so shocked she'd scare the grim reaper away.

"What is it?"

"I feel… strange."

"You're drunk, so of course you feel strange. To be honest, I've been feeling weird myself since a while ago."

"Reeeally?"

Ugh. Dangerous. Looking at her stupid, drunken smile, I felt a sudden sense of unease.

What was it? A strange nostalgia, as if I were slipping back into the time before we got married?

That fluttering heartbeat I'd felt the very first time I saw her—it was returning now, of all moments.

She's really out of it.

Worried she might collapse, I gently pulled her head toward my chest.

Then, without realizing it, I inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent.

The sharp smell of alcohol mixed with the sweet, acacia-flower fragrance of her cosmetics.

For a brief moment, desire stirred inside me.

Just for a second…

She was drifting between reality and delirium.

No—without me, she'd have already collapsed to the floor, unable to hold herself up.

She was that drunk.

I remembered what she'd said, and my hesitation faded. She'd given me permission, after all—had practically encouraged it.

Let's see…

I glanced around cautiously.

My friends weren't paying any attention to me.

Each was lost in their own world, laughing and drinking without a care.

No one's watching.

With no eyes on us, my hesitation vanished. I slowly extended my left arm and wrapped it around my wife's waist.

With my other hand, I gently spread her legs apart.

She squirmed slightly, as if uncomfortable, and tried to close her legs again.

But I pressed harder, using my left arm—still around her waist—to firmly cover her crotch.

Through my palm, I could feel the soft curve of her mound.

Huu…

I took a quiet, tense breath, then scanned the room again.

Still no one was looking. In fact, I couldn't even hear their voices clearly anymore.

I was pretty drunk myself. I was trying to act rationally, but my body was betraying my thoughts.

Proof? My ears were completely ignoring their loud chatter.

Well, my ears are burning, anyway.

Shaking off distracting thoughts, I focused on my wife.

She showed no reaction at all, even though my hand was now covering her pussy.

She just quietly snored, "Ssik… ssik…"

Gathering courage, I pressed my fingers into her buttocks through the thin denim.

The soft flesh gave faintly under my fingertips.

Still, she didn't react.

Good.

I unzipped her jeans and undid the button.

Her white panties came into view.

Quickly, I slipped my left hand inside her panties.

"Hmm…"

"……"

Startled by my sudden intrusion, she let out a faint moan.

I held my breath and stared at her face.

A moment later, she resumed snoring quietly, as if nothing had happened.

Relieved, I began stroking her pussy.

I felt the coarse pubic hair and the sensitive clit.

I gripped it in my palm.

"Hmm…"

Another moan slipped from her lips.

If the last one was from surprise, this one was unmistakably sensual.

Panicked, I quickly looked up, scanning the room.

Thankfully, no one had noticed her moan.

Then again, in this noisy chaos, who could hear such a faint sound?

"Hmm…"

I stroked her tightly closed slit with my middle finger.

Then, using my second and fourth fingers, I spread her lips open.

My middle finger slid deep into her wetness.

"Uhh!"

Her body twitched at the cold, rough touch of my finger.

Instinctively, she swung her arm, trying to push my hand away.

But I resisted firmly.

And since she was only half-conscious, her arm failed to fully stop me.

Only when the warmth of her flesh matched the temperature of my hand did she sink back into sleep.

Seeing that, I smirked. And resumed my actions…

---

"Heyyy~ You should join us too!!"

Some bastard approached, ruining the mood.

I swiftly pulled my finger out of her pussy and turned with a casual smile.

Naturally, I straightened my body to block her from view.

"I've had way too much already. And my wife's here, so I've gotta behave."

"Hah, you little coward."

Fair enough.

All the guys had brought their wives tonight.

"Still, man, husband and wife are one. I can't just enjoy myself when my wife's struggling."

He nodded at my words.

"Yeah, your wife does seem weak with alcohol. Passed out after just a few drinks."

"Exactly. Don't worry about me—just keep enjoying yourselves. I'll happily watch your ridiculous antics."

"What are you, embarrassed? Anyway, take good care of your wife."

He laughed and walked away.

Fine. No one's watching now. I wanted to continue where I left off.

I cautiously glanced around and slowly reached my hand back toward her panties.

Or rather, I tried to—before someone called out.

"Honey?"

That sweet, familiar voice.

It rang in my ears like the song of a nightingale, rich and alluring.

I thought, I'm fucked.

"Haha, you're awake?"

Beside me, my wife smiled brightly, her forehead marked with the playful symbol of a little devil.

Damn it. I'm dead.