Chapter 2 — My First Intimate Night with My Wife - 1 (2)

Grace’s room was just big enough for her and Alice Mijeong to lie down side by side.

On one side stood a desk, beside which was a neatly stacked pile of blankets.
A clothes rack, a small dining table, and a TV perched atop it completed the sparse setup.
That was all there was to Grace and Alice Mijeong’s humble household—every item meticulously arranged, revealing much about their orderly natures.

The room’s immaculate atmosphere almost extinguished the heat I’d been carrying since before stepping inside—compared to this, my own room might as well have been a pigsty.
The anticipation I’d felt moments ago nearly vanished in that instant.

But when Grace laid out only the blanket she usually slept under, leaving Alice Mijeong’s untouched, my heart began to race again.

“oppa, can you turn around while I change?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“You mustn’t look back.”

“Yeah. Got it.”

Rustle. Rustle.
The sound of Grace changing clothes behind my back was unbearably arousing.

My eyes darted wildly, searching for something—anything—on which to catch a glimpse of her.

And the room didn’t disappoint.

The dark screen of the TV reflected her silhouette.

She wasn’t rushing to change.
And I was grateful for that.

She bent forward, pulling down her pants, her backside thrust slightly toward the TV.
The tight panties clung to her, forming a perfect T across her hips.

Did she know I could see her?

After stepping out of her pants, she briefly straightened up, then reached both hands behind her, gently lifting the panties that had slipped between her cheeks and pulling them free.

I nearly laughed—then caught myself.
She had changed into her gym clothes.

“oppa, you can turn around now.”

“…

“How should we do this? There’s only Alice Mijeong’s clothes here… want to wear hers?”

“Fine by me. Not like I’d choose discomfort.”

“…

I took Alice Mijeong’s tiny gym outfit and changed into it. The shorts barely covered my thighs.
Grace let out a soft giggle at the sight.

“Hehe.”

“What?”

“You look so cute like that.”

“What?”

It was the first time I’d ever heard her call me cute.
My appearance—especially when my beard grew in—was more rugged than adorable.

“Let’s sleep now, oppa.”

“Alright… I’ll turn off the light. Where’s the switch?”

“Hehe, I’ll do it.”

Grace turned off the light and fumbled her way under the covers.

By the time she slipped in, my erection had swelled to its full, aching length.

Under the blanket, she quietly reached for my hand.

We lay like that for perhaps ten minutes.
Neither of us spoke.

I broke the silence. I couldn’t wait any longer—my hardened length throbbed painfully.

“Grace? Are you asleep?”

“No. Why?”

“Can I… hold you?”

“…

“Can I hold you?”

“…

Timid as ever, I asked twice before finally pulling her into my arms.
I slid my left arm beneath her neck and wrapped my right tightly around her.

Her breasts pressed against my chest.
My stiff member began to graze her lower body.

For a moment, she tensed, pulling slightly away.
I pressed closer, drawing her back.

This time, she met me, pressing her body fully against mine.

Then I kissed her.

Unlike before, she opened her lips from the start, welcoming me.
The sensation of my tongue slipping in, then intertwining with hers, sent heat rushing to my groin.
A soft moan escaped from between her lips.

“Mmm…”

My right hand began to move slowly, tracing the length of her back.
I felt the strap of her bra beneath my fingers.

I continued downward, lifting the hem of her shirt, and began caressing bare skin.
My hand crept higher, soon reaching the edge of her bra strap.

Grace stiffened.
She raised her hand and tightly gripped my right wrist.

Yet, she didn’t break the kiss.
I opened my eyes slightly—she still had hers closed, lost in the moment.

I gently increased the pressure, sliding my hand along the edge of her bra toward her breast.

When my hand passed beneath her armpit, I felt her grip tighten—but not to stop me.
It was different.
Almost encouraging.

Then my hand cupped her breast.

Even through the bra, her breast filled my palm—slightly too large to hold completely.
I’d always thought her chest looked bigger because of her bra.
Now, realizing it wasn’t, I grew even more excited.

Her bra was thinner and softer than I’d expected.
Her breasts were genuinely full.

Her nipple was already hard.

I slowly stroked upward from the base.
A soft moan escaped her lips.

“Ah.”

Then I firmly squeezed.

As I did, my arm shifted completely to her front, lifting as high as I could.
Her shirt rode up naturally, exposing her breasts almost to the peak.

Lying side by side no longer felt comfortable.

I lifted my upper body and gently pushed her backward.

She offered no resistance, falling onto the blanket beneath me, her body now fully exposed.
I half-loomed over her, my torso resting atop hers.

A perfect chance to lift her top.

I pulled my hand from beneath her bra and pushed her shirt up.
Then I lifted the bra itself.

With my right hand, I firmly grasped her bare breast as it broke free from the fabric.

Sweat glistened on her forehead.

I slowly pulled my lips from hers and moved toward her chest.
For a brief moment, I looked down at her breasts.

Never touched by another’s lips, they glowed a delicate pink even in the dimness.
Her nipples, small compared to her full breasts, stood erect—taut, ready to burst.

I slowly took one into my mouth.

“Mmm…”

“oppa…”

She whispered my name, but I couldn’t respond.
My mouth was busy swirling around her nipple.

Instead of speaking, I moved both hands to her back.
She seemed to understand, arching her spine like a bow to help me.

I struggled with the clasp, finally undoing it with effort.
All the while, I kept licking her breast—afraid that if I stopped, the spell might break.

The bra came free.
Her full, lush breasts spilled out from beneath the lifted fabric.

“Grace.”

“oppa.”

No words were needed.
We called each other’s names once—then I buried my face in her other breast, the one I hadn’t yet tasted.

She gently cradled my head in her hands.

Now fully atop her, I pressed my burning body against hers, aligning my hardness with the soft mound between her legs.

I could feel her body growing hotter—responding to my chest caresses and the friction below.
Her grip on me tightened.
Her moans grew deeper.

I slowly moved my hand down, trying to remove her pants.

But this time, she resisted firmly.

“oppa… not there.”

I immediately pulled back.
I couldn’t risk losing this moment—this fragile, precious warmth—by forcing her.

Instead, I moved my hand behind her, sliding it beneath her pants to grip her full, round buttocks.

Holding both cheeks firmly, I lowered my arms slightly and lifted her knees.

My erect member slid along her mound, brushing against the place where she might already be wet.

I didn’t press hard—just gentle, rhythmic pressure.
Soon, she began swaying slightly from side to side, as if struggling to endure.

But the way I held her—her buttocks gripped tightly in my hands, her body trapped between my arms—meant her movements only intensified the friction.

Every attempt to escape only brought her closer to pleasure.
Her own motions stoked the fire within her.

I pulled my hands from her buttocks and completely removed her top.
Then I returned to caressing her backside.

But I didn’t stop there.

Slowly, I began sliding my hand beneath her buttocks.

For a moment, her body twitched—tensing instinctively.

My fingers had brushed against her anus.

It was brief—unconscious, reflexive.
But as the tension slowly eased, I gently pushed further.

There—warmth.
Moisture.
The heat of her hidden spring, damp and inviting.

Earlier, she had resisted when I tried to touch her front directly.
But now, from behind, she made no protest—only moaned softly as I touched her.

I lowered my mouth from her breast, kissing just above her navel, as I pushed my fingers deeper—covering her entrance with three.

“Hahh~”

At nearly the same instant, a gasp escaped her lips.

My fingers were now slick with her wetness.
I smeared it lightly over the sensitive ridge between her entrance and anus—the spot I’d heard was intensely pleasurable.

Afraid she might object if I lingered too long near her core, I began focusing on that area instead.
Almost immediately, she began moving her hips openly, chasing the sensation.

I repeated the motion I’d used to remove her top—lowering my body, bending my arms—sliding down her form.

Her pants and panties slipped down, and the dark patch of her pubic hair came into view.

When I leaned in to kiss it—

“No! oppa… don’t kiss there. I haven’t washed… it’s dirty.”

“I know.”

So she wouldn’t let me kiss—but everything else was allowed?

I pulled back, feigning indifference, and continued removing her pants and panties.

She lifted her hips to help me.

As I pulled the clothes down, her thighs parted briefly in the darkness—just long enough for me to catch sight of the cleft between her legs.

The glimpse was enough to make my erection throb violently.

Having successfully stripped her, I quickly undressed myself.

Then I climbed atop her, pressing my bare body against hers.

Our skin burned with heat.
We were both ready.

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