Chapter 6 — I Know Nothing — Part 1 (6)

"It's late. We should've gone home ages ago."

I was afraid—afraid that if I lingered any longer in this excitement, my desire for Miss Kim would grow too strong to control.

"Oh come on, I'm just starting to get the hang of the blues. Already leaving?"

"Let's finish dancing next time. The subway's about to stop running."

"Just one more dance."

Miss Kim, annoyed by my insistence, vanished into the crowd the moment the final song began.

Back at the table, I checked the time, calculating the last train. From the leftover beers I'd saved, I scraped together enough dregs for one small drink. I gulped it down, wishing time would hurry up and pass.

How long will all these people keep reveling in this wild night? When dawn breaks, they'll sever every connection made here and return to their ordinary lives. What is it they're trying to release—why fling their bodies so freely in music louder than a thousand daily noises? The record player slowly started spinning again.

A heavy melody poured out. The sea of dancers shifted as the tune changed. Then Miss Kim appeared, grabbing my hand and pulling me back onto the floor.

Just one more song, and then I'd be free to go home. Not that it mattered—the last train was probably already gone. But even so, I could still hail a taxi and collapse into the quiet sanctuary where my family slept.

She pressed her chest against mine and wrapped her arms around my neck. I opened my arms wide, pulling her tightly to my chest, gripping her waist as if to bind her body to mine forever.

We didn't step. We ignored the rhythm completely, forgetting movement altogether, just clinging to each other. Around us, others danced the same way—no one tried to follow the beat. Even through thick winter clothes, we pressed closer, as if desperate to feel each other's warmth.

She lifted her head and began whispering into my ear. I couldn't make out the words, but I felt her hot breath. A small yet firm hand slipped under my shirt, fingers digging into my bare skin. It crept upward, tracing my spine until it reached the nape of my neck, stroking me gently. My breath grew hotter, harder to contain.

Her other hand took mine and guided it beneath her blouse. My hand was inside now, touching bare skin. I froze where I first made contact, unable to ignore the heat radiating from her flesh.

My own hand moved slowly across her back, creeping toward the clasp of her bra. One small shift forward, and I'd touch the fullness of her breasts. How far was I allowed to go? By now, we were so close we didn't need to hold each other—we were fused, pressed inseparably together.

One of her hands slipped boldly down between my legs. It slid deep into my pants, finding its way past the hem of her skirt and covering what lay beneath. I wanted to pull away, but her other hand held my back firmly, trapping me. There was no escape. I had to surrender myself completely to her touch.

"Let's go. Section Chief."

She gasped roughly against my earlobe.

"Where?"

I played dumb, going through the motions of asking, though I already knew.

"I want to throw away my virginity."

I couldn't understand her, not really.

"So I'm your trash can?"

Seriously, was that all I was? Just a disposal bin for her virginity?

"Set me free. I'm suffocating—like guarding this stupid virginity will ruin my whole life."

"Alright. Let's get out of here first."

I pulled her tighter around the waist, wanting to confirm she meant it. Her tongue slipped wetly into my mouth, swirling deep, pressing hard against my chest. Something was definitely going to happen tonight.

A cold wind blew. The crescent moon, once caught in the branches, now hung high in the western sky. The bright neon signs lining the streets blinked out one by one, unable to withstand the deepening night.

A biting gust swept down the street like a broom clearing away the remnants of the night. The few remaining pedestrians hunched their collars up and quickened their steps.

A passing taxi slowed, as if knowing our destination, and came to a gentle stop. We got in. When the driver asked where we were headed, neither of us answered—but the car shot off down the road anyway. Lilac-scented hair brushed against my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her neck, soothing her, hoping to make this a warm night.

Miss Kim's hand rested on my lower abdomen. Whether she wanted to touch something or was just hesitating, I could feel the uncertainty trembling at her fingertips.

The driver kept glancing back through the rearview mirror. He wasn't fully drunk—this dream might not be deep, just half-baked, clumsy. But still—Miss Kim was undeniably stunning. She carried herself with grace, sometimes flirtatious, always poised. Many men had wanted her but never dared speak. So why was she throwing herself at me tonight, offering her virginity with no conditions? And after tonight—would she truly be free?

We arrived in a district packed with models. I thought maybe we should reconsider. But we pushed open the door of an unfamiliar bar that looked cheap but inviting. Stiff wooden tables. Beer began appearing. The snacks were awkward, tasteless. We didn't touch them. Without a word, we started drinking—glass after glass, not offering to each other, just pouring it down.

"Miss Kim, do you want to go home?"

"No!"

"Won't you regret it?"

"What a petty question!"

After that final confirmation, I paid the bill and walked straight toward a motel sign that stood out in the dark. Miss Kim matched my pace, half-running, slipping her arm through mine as we stepped inside together.

The clerk handed us a key. I pressed the elevator button. I couldn't shake the unease—what if there were cameras inside the room? Walking down the long corridor, I realized every room was occupied. Here, infidelity piled upon infidelity, building a world far larger and more powerful than the so-called normal life outside.

This wasn't a place for weary travelers to rest. This was a fortress of affairs, thriving from morning till night—and now, in the late hours, opening its gates again for another round of secrets.

I turned the key. The lights flickered on automatically, brightening the room. I switched on the TV. Some awkward porn was playing. I quickly changed the channel—but the next one showed something just as explicit. Nowhere to rest my eyes.

I took off my outer coat and hung it over a chair. Hesitating, I stood there, unable to bring myself to take off my shirt. Miss Kim threw her clothes off without hesitation. I picked them up one by one, hanging them neatly on the wall rack.

The shower door opened. The glass stall offered no real privacy—whether the door was closed or not, everything was visible. She stepped in.

The water turned on. The sound of falling water was refreshing. For a moment, I hoped the rush from head to toe might help me clear my thoughts, gather my senses one last time.

Through the glass, I could see her moving. The way she raised both arms to push her hair back was beautiful. Watching her wash her face, then slowly move downward—it felt like watching a scene from a film.

Then her hands drifted lower, caressing her thighs. She had made her decision—no more hesitation. I quickly stripped off my underwear. Through the glass, her silhouette bent forward, washing her shins, her curves shifting with the motion.

I pulled the shower door open. It wasn't locked. It swung open easily, and suddenly I was standing right there, seeing her under the spray.

She stopped showering and looked at me. Then she turned the showerhead toward me and sprayed a jet of water straight at me.

I was soaked from head to toe. She dropped the showerhead and came toward me.

She took my hands and placed them over her breasts, guiding me to cup their fullness, including the hardened peaks. She wasn't afraid of my boldness—she welcomed it, proudly accepting me.

She took out soap. Lathered her hands, then rubbed the foam over my shaft. My pubic hair and cock steamed with warm suds. The stream of water hit the spot, rinsing it clean. She washed me carefully, thoroughly.

Then she took it into her mouth. Her hot tongue swirled around it. She began moving up and down, sucking softly.

A hissing sound escaped my lips. My hands, unsure where to go, gently stroked her head.

Her long tongue slid away from my groin, moving up my stomach. Her hands roamed my shoulders, my chest, then her lips covered my neck with burning kisses. I gently pulled her up, holding her close, letting us both stand together under the warm stream.

We dried off with towels. Now all that remained was to guide her to the warm bed.

"I've done a lot of solo pleasure."

She murmured it like a confession.

"Deeply?"

"No… only on the surface."

"Tonight, you'll let it all go?"

"Love me. Make me a real woman."

"Were you jealous of Miss Park?"

"She made her own choices."

"But I can't take responsibility."

"Then let tonight be something I don't know about."

I laid her down on the bed.

I caught glimpses of shy, virginal hesitation. Her legs kept closing. I buried my head, searching for that hidden place, spreading her thighs apart.

I sucked greedily at her untouched breasts. At first she winced, tried to pull away—but the more I sucked, the more she pressed my head down, urging me to suck harder.

I pressed my lips to her neck. Her head tilted back.

I nibbled slowly along her earlobe. I could feel her breathing grow ragged, shallow—close to breaking.

I heard the thudding pulse atop her chest. It was time to move lower.

I climbed onto her belly.

I lowered my heavy body onto hers.

I guided my tip into her slit. She jolted, hips jerking away.

I pretended not to notice, gently touching the entrance again. Each brief contact made her pant, flinch, retreat.

I adjusted my position. Kneeling between her spread legs, I eased the tip into the opening.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her in place. Her head was already pressed to the top of the bed—nowhere left to run.

Liquid trickled steadily. Like a salmon swimming upstream, I began to push forward slowly, riding the wet trail.

She tried to faint, to escape again. But this was her final struggle—in a space with no exit.

Very slowly, I forced my way into that tight cleft.

It stopped. A stubborn barrier blocked the way, refusing any further entry.

"Miss Kim… it'll hurt, just once. You'll have to bear it."

I spoke quietly, giving her a moment to prepare.

Would she endure it? Earlier, even light touch made her squirm. Could she handle this pain?

I straightened my hips, positioning myself fully. I spread her legs wider.

I rubbed my tip slowly against the torn edge, waiting for the right moment to break through.

More fluid seeped out. The bedsheets grew damp. If I missed this surge, it would be harder. I thrust forward firmly, pushing deep into her.

"Ah…!"

A cry rang out, vibrating through the room.

Slowly, the passage opened. Movement began. A single drop of red liquid fell onto the sheets.

"Section Chief… am I free now?"

"That's up to you…"