Chapter 1 — Hero Every Night

"Hey. Miss. Come here."

Another one pestering her. Not the first. Not the second.

Sarah was used to it by now. She shook off the rough hand and stepped into the room.

Every night, she waited for him.

"Hey. Come out here. Huh?"

She helped the old man into the room.

"Come here. Hurry up and do it."

James stood, shouting at her.

"Please, just go to sleep. We can't do this every night."

"I'm your husband. Hurry up and do it."

With no choice, she knelt before him. Her hands found him, familiar now. She closed her eyes, steadied herself, and leaned in.

The sound he made was low, hungry. His breath quickened.

"Uuuh... aah... mm... good... more... more..."

His face turned red.

"Uh... uh..... mm..."

When it was over, she rose quietly and went to the bathroom. She rinsed her mouth and avoided the mirror.

She glanced sideways—James was already asleep again.

Sarah stripped off all her clothes. She began to touch herself, one hand tracing her own skin, the other finding its way downward. She let herself feel it—the release she wouldn't get from him, the pleasure she took for herself.

Her breath came faster. Her body arched.

Finally, the tension broke, and she lay still.

---

"This damn junk car—should've replaced it by now. Where is it..."

Crreeeak?

"Huh?"

On his way back, the car had broken down.

"Damn, this is bad."

It was over thirty minutes by car to get home.

"What's wrong?"

A young man appeared behind the old man.

"Car broke down."

"Move aside. Let me try."

The young man fiddled with it for about ten minutes.

Vroom?

"Wow, thanks. Where are you headed?"

"Anywhere the wind takes me. Whatever."

"Then come to my place."

"Thank you."

Loud music blared from the car. The young man writhed around, dancing wildly.

"Young people really know how to have fun... Haha?"

James seemed thoroughly pleased.

"Dear, did you come out?"

"Welcome back."

Sarah's eyes fell on the tall, strong young man.

"Hello, I'm David Choi."

"He'll be staying a few days. Treat him well."

"Yes."

David couldn't sleep. It was because of Sarah—he'd seen her earlier that day.

"Dear, not tonight. There's a guest in the next room."

Voices came through the wall.

"It's fine. Come here and lie down."

James laid Sarah on the bed. She felt his hands tear at her clothes, heard the fabric give way. She lay still, letting it happen. The sounds through the wall were ragged, desperate. Sarah closed her eyes.

"Dear, hurry up and go lower... uh... uhnn... ah..."

In the next room, David touched himself, the rhythm matching the sounds from beyond the wall.

"Uhh... aah..."

The old man collapsed into deep sleep. Sarah went out to the riverside, letting the cool night wind soothe her burning body.

"You're out here."

David's voice came from behind.

"Yes. I was feeling suffocated, so I came out."

Sarah replied, flustered.

"I came out too, feeling suffocated."

David's expression seemed to know everything.

"Yes..."

Sarah couldn't lift her head.

Suddenly, David leaned in to kiss her lips.

"What are you doing?"

Sarah turned her face away.

"I thought you were a respectful person."

"I'm sorry. But don't lie to yourself."

Sarah turned and walked back inside.

"Huh? Leaving already?"

James called out.

"Yes. I have my own path to walk. Goodbye. You too, madam."

Sarah avoided eye contact. David soon vanished from their sight.

"Dear. I'll go into town for a bit."

James said, then left for the city. Sarah went into the restaurant.

No guests had come these past few days. She was thinking about last night.

Then she sensed movement behind her and turned. It was David.

He slowly approached. Sarah instinctively stepped back.

Soon, she was pressed against the back of the kitchen. A kitchen knife was in her hand.

"If you come closer, I'll stab you."

"Go ahead and stab me. What you truly want—I have it."

She couldn't bring herself to stab him, just stood there holding the knife.

David's hand slipped under her skirt. He pushed her down onto the floor. He lifted her skirt, buried his face.

With his teeth, he tore the fabric.

Sarah raised the knife to strike—then threw it aside.

"Ah?... uhmm... ah... haa.."

Her moans grew louder.

David yanked up Sarah's blouse. She felt the air on her skin. He pressed his mouth to her, and she twisted beneath him, crying out.

His tongue traced a slow path downward. His hands cupped her, caressed her, as his kisses followed.

Then David pulled away. He stood, shedding the last of his clothes.

He laid Sarah down, lifted her legs. He stared at her, waiting.

"Hurry... uhmm... faster..."

Sarah kneaded her own breasts, urging him on.

David moved closer. He entered her slowly, gently.

"Ah?..."

She was wet—his way was easy.

He found his rhythm, and together they climbed higher, faster, until the tension shattered around them both.

Afterward, they lay still in the quiet kitchen, the evidence of their release pooling beneath them.