Chapter 1 — Her and Me

It was a night spent alone.

Or at least, it should have been. Yet, despite being by myself, I could feel someone's gaze—watching, pressing against my skin. Probably just my imagination. I let out a bitter smile and sat down in front of the computer.

I hadn't had sex in days, and down there, everything was hypersensitive. I thought about jerking off, then opened a chat room instead.

A few users had suggestive nicknames—clearly looking for sex—but their blatant usernames turned me off. Then I started talking to someone around my age.

As usual, we exchanged where we lived, what we did for work. But those details? Anyone can lie about them if they want to.

The conversation flowed easily enough. After a while, I asked if she could meet up.

She agreed immediately. When I offered to pick her up by car, she seemed happy.

When I arrived at her place, she was… underwhelming. Not bad, just… nothing special.

I almost wanted to turn around and leave, but out of politeness, I figured I should at least buy her a drink. Then she said she wanted to go for a drive, to get some air.

I hesitated for a moment—

Screw it. Let's go.

We crossed over Pal-dang Bridge and pulled into a nearby café. As we walked in, I casually placed my hand on her thigh.

She didn't seem to mind. In fact, she smiled faintly—and then placed her own hand over mine.

Inside the café, I ordered a jujube tea. But what did she order? Alcohol.

At this point, I decided to be blunt. I looked her in the eye and asked, "When was the last time you had sex?"

She smirked, glancing away with a laugh. That laugh—somehow made her a little more tolerable.

Most women start being honest once you know about 10% of who they really are. If her friends had asked her this, would she have answered?

She said it had been a long time.

"Really? Then… wanna sleep with me? What do you say?"

She just laughed again—no clear yes, no outright no. So I took it as a yes.

I pulled her up, led her back to the car. We hadn't driven far when I spotted a motel I'd been to before.

She took my hand, walking close, standing beside me at the counter like a couple. Probably wanted us to look like we belonged together.

We got the key, stepped into the elevator—and I kissed her. She accepted it without resistance. Too easily. For some reason, it deflated me.

Back in the room, I sat her down and unzipped her pants. She didn't say a word—just leaned forward and pulled my cock into her mouth.

Her tongue brushed lightly against the tip. She paused, as if savoring the taste. I pressed her head down gently, and then she started sucking in earnest.

The warmth of her tongue sent a shiver through me. She was actually good—sucking me like she genuinely enjoyed it.

I could feel her eyes looking up at me from below. I met her gaze.

"Don't look at me…"

Her voice came out nasal, muffled. She didn't speak again. I pushed her head down harder.

I was close—too close—so I pulled her off and stood her up.

I turned her around, bent her over the edge of the bed, and lifted her skirt. Black lace panties. She'd come prepared.

I pulled them down. Her ass was pale, smooth. I squeezed it with one hand, then slid a finger inside. Already soaked. I pulled my finger out and pushed it into her mouth.

She sucked it greedily, making soft, wet noises—licking her own wetness off my skin like it was something delicious.

With one hand on her breast, I entered her from behind. I never bother foreplaying with a woman who's already wet. Once I feel she's ready, I lose interest in teasing. The real act is all that matters.

"Ah…"

I heard the faint sound of my finger slipping from her mouth—her lips must've opened. I grabbed her hair and started moving.

Every thrust made her head sway with me.

"Huh… ha… ah… ah… haa… haa…"

Her breathing grew ragged. She was feeling it now.

She lifted her hips higher, one hand reaching back to grip my hip, surrendering completely to the sensation.

Then her body stiffened—her insides clenched violently.

"Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah~~~~"

A single cry tore from her throat before her body collapsed, limp and spent. I stayed inside her for a while, slowly grinding, riding out the last pulses.

About five minutes passed. She stirred, gathering herself, sitting up.

Then I started again—faster this time, deeper. Suddenly, I wanted to see her face.

I flipped her over, mounting her. I lifted her legs with both hands and thrust into her. Her expression—confused, almost pained, like she didn't know what to do.

Then her hand reached up, touching my nipple.

The unexpected sensation sent a jolt through my lower back. She propped herself up and took it into her mouth, licking with the tip of her tongue. The teasing wetness drove my arousal higher.

"Hah… hah… I'm gonna come… Can I come inside?"

She didn't answer with words. Instead, she grabbed my hips and pulled me deeper into her.

"Ah… uh… hah… hah…"

She gasped, breathless, as her body arched—hitting her second climax. We lay there for a while, touching each other gently, catching our breath.

"Let's wash up and go."

"You can't stay the night?"

"I have to be at the office early tomorrow."

"…Okay."

I comforted her brief disappointment, hurried through the shower, and left the motel.

I dropped her off at her place, told her I'd call, then turned the car toward home. A strange laugh bubbled up from nowhere.

How many men has she had before me? And how many women have I been to her?

This society, where anonymity is guaranteed—it breeds secrets. So many of them.

Tomorrow morning, she'll walk into her office like nothing happened. I'll meet my friends, act like today never occurred.

No one will know we met. No one will know we fucked.

No one except her… and me.