Chapter 2 — My Girlfriend's Other Man - Part 1 (2)

The incident I'd mentioned in part one had started like this.

Like most couples, they'd broken up and gotten back together several times over their long relationship.

The previous year, they'd had another massive fight—so bad they didn't see each other for about two months.

This is what happened when they finally broke the silence and started seeing each other again.

He'd mentioned before that he worked in construction, right? One day, as he was about to leave work, a colleague who managed site operations asked if he needed anything. The colleague—Daniel, who handled the company's site operations and processed budgets—said there was leftover money from that month's budget—he'd already processed fake receipts, and they could use it to buy whatever they wanted.

He asked Daniel what he'd ordered, and Daniel said he was getting an external hard drive and a wireless mouse. So he told Daniel to get the same for him.

The next day, he received the items. That weekend, he drove up to Seoul to see Emma. When she saw the external hard drive rolling around on his car dashboard, she asked:

“This yours?”

“No, the company gave it to us for work.”

“How much storage?”

“One terabyte.”

Suddenly, her eyes lit up.

“Baby… can I swap it with mine?”

She was using an old one he'd given her before—only 500GB. Honestly, he didn't need much—just a USB stick was enough for work—so he agreed.

At the time, the drive only had a few blueprints and some spreadsheets. He told her to upload those to the cloud, then handed it over.

A week later, when he saw her again, he got his old drive back.

What was on it? Of course, he knew there was no reason to hope—but still, a tiny, mouse-sized flicker of curiosity made him plug it into his laptop.

Just as expected—it had been completely formatted. Spotless.

The whole mess started by pure accident.

He'd stored some construction site photos and a few adult videos on the drive. He needed to send the photos to a coworker, but obviously couldn't include the adult content. So he deleted the files.

Big mistake.

He accidentally wiped the photos too. He checked the recycle bin, tried recovery tools—but it was too late. The pre-construction photos were gone forever. The post-construction ones he could reshoot, but not the earlier ones.

So the moment he got home, he plugged in the drive and ran a recovery program.

His laptop was ancient, so it estimated 21 hours to complete. He left it running all night, and even left it on when he went to work the next day.

When he got home and checked the results, he was relieved—the photos had all been recovered.

But then—holy shit—he found something completely unexpected.

Over the years, he'd taken a few photos and videos of them together. Nothing shared with anyone—just private memories. But even though they were joint creations, she'd always refused to acknowledge his ownership. She'd demanded he delete them more than once.

He scrolled through the recovered files with the mouse wheel—and there they were. Him buried inside her. Him sucking her most intimate area. Her face gently taking him in. Sigh… What good deeds did he do in his past life to deserve such a woman?

But as he kept scrolling, something strange appeared.

The face and body were unmistakably hers—but the part buried inside her? Definitely not his.

There were even photos of a strange man's face buried between her legs, though his face was mostly hidden—impossible to identify.

What the hell…?

His mind went blank, like a storm had torn through it. His heart pounded harder than after a full sprint.

He kept scrolling—then saw a few video files.

He clicked the first one. It was footage from a trip they'd taken to Jeju Island a year ago. He closed it and played the next.

Second. Third. All videos of them.

Then he clicked the next file.

As it started playing, the background looked weirdly familiar.

The sparse furniture, the wallpaper, the curtains… It looked like a small studio apartment—but not his. Where was this? He'd definitely seen it before, though.

The screen jolted slightly—someone fumbling with the camera, adjusting it. Judging by the quality and the occasional accessories in frame, it was clearly shot with the DSLR he'd bought her.

The camera was now fixed on a bed. A moment later, she appeared—jumping onto the mattress in a black slip.

When they were together, she usually wore nothing but a plain T-shirt. But this time, she was clearly prepared.

She sat on the bed, then pulled up sheer black pantyhose—completely naked underneath. He couldn't see it, but he could hear a TV or computer in the background. Her voice, soft and playful:

“What do you think of that girl’s… body?”

She was probably referring to someone on screen. A man answered:

“Big, but nothing special. Not my type.”

When he finally saw his face—his blood turned to ice.

That man was his friend.

They'd met through an online community years ago—just a casual group for people their age. When he'd started pursuing her, three other guys were also interested. One of them was this guy.

He'd sensed their intentions and acted fast. He'd called them out for drinks and said, Look, I really like her. Help me out.

He didn't know if they meant it, but they promised to back off. In front of him, at least, they never made a move.

One of them was a guy nicknamed Paul—they just called him Paul.

Thinking about him still made him angry.

Paul was short—around 167cm. Almost the same height as her. His face? Handsome. Fit. Came from a wealthy family. Aside from his height, he was basically a chick magnet.

Back to the video.

She finished pulling up the pantyhose and beckoned to him.

“Paul… come here.”

He wrapped his arms around her and lay back on the bed. Her pale, golden skin contrasted sharply with his tanned body—she looked almost like a foreign woman.

He held her from behind, one hand wandering over her milky-white body.

His large hand traced her nape, squeezed her breasts, stroked her soft, slightly rounded lower belly—then finally covered her most intimate area.

Feeling the touch on her sensitive spot, she slightly parted her legs. Their eyes stayed glued to the TV.

She asked, “You don’t like… big breasts?”

“Big doesn’t mean good. I think Emma’s are perfect. Haha.”

“Liar.”

“No, really. Yours are actually on the bigger side. Haha.”

“Right? I think they’re bigger than other girls’. Baby, touch them for me…”

Her words guided his hands up to her breasts. He groped them roughly. She placed her hand over his, then moved it to her other breast.

His fingers twisted her nipples, then pulled. She turned and kissed him deeply.

They kissed for a long time—then turned back to the TV. From the sounds, it seemed like a man was performing oral sex on a woman on screen.

Paul whispered into her ear, nibbling her lobe:

“Wanna try that?”

She nodded. He moved behind her, settling between her legs. She spread her thighs wide in front of his face.

“Paul… ever torn pantyhose off before?”

“No… this is my first time?”

“Liar. I’ve seen you in videos. You’ve had lots of girlfriends…”

“Huh? You think I’m a playboy? Or a pervert? I swear, I’ve never done this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Hmm… but just thinking about it gets me so turned on.”

“Me too. Paul… do it…”

His hands tore through the pantyhose, exposing her pubic hair.

Her pale lower belly. Her thick bush. The pink inner lips. Her shyly peeking clitoris.

He couldn't see it on screen, but he could picture it perfectly.

He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and looked down at his own body—his body had responded so strongly it was obvious through his pants.

You're getting aroused watching your girlfriend with your friend? Are you even human?

He felt disgusted with himself—but his body stayed rigid. He slipped a hand into his pants and kept watching.

His face moved closer to her center through the torn hole. Then his head disappeared between her legs.

“Haa… Paul… yes… hmmm… there… suck there…”

Her reaction was 180 degrees from how she acted with him.

She lifted her head to watch him. He didn't respond—just kept sucking.

She grabbed another camera and took pictures of him. Those were probably the photos he'd seen earlier.

After a few shots, she put the camera down and used her hands to spread herself wider—her legs lifted high into the air.

“Aaah… Paul… there… suck harder… I’m going crazy…”

She whined, demanding more. He sucked harder, using one hand to grope her breast.

She held herself open with one hand, the other grabbing his hair and pulling his face deeper.

She shyly whispered the word:

“Where?”

“Aaah… I don’t know… there…”

He teased her, stopping the sucking and just stroking her with his palm.

Her aroused voice finally gave in:

“Aaah… suck my… you know…”

“Where, exactly?”

“Aaah… suck my… damn it!”

Hearing herself say it seemed to excite her even more. Her legs wrapped around his neck, her hips lifting.

His hands shot forward, roughly grabbing both her breasts. Her nipples poked out between his fingers.

She used her fingertips to tease her own nipples.

“Haa… this is yours… I’ll only give it to you… you’ll only be mine too, right, Paul?”

Words she'd never say with him—now flowing freely, shamelessly.

At his silent command, she sat up. He lay flat on his back. She climbed on top—69 position.

“Aaah… Emma… suck… suck…”

The sound of him was crystal clear. She gently took him into her mouth. He suddenly arched his back.

“Haaang… why, Paul…?”

“Wait a sec…”

He disappeared from the frame—then returned holding a plate with strawberries.

Back in position. She held his arousal in one hand, leaning over him. He picked up a strawberry and slid it into her.

She didn't resist. Her legs stayed wide open in front of his face. He took the strawberry in and out, sucking and chewing it like a treat.

“Aaah… stop, Paul…”

Her muffled voice—was she begging him to stop, or to go deeper? Impossible to tell.

Strawberries inside her?

She'd never even let him insert a single finger before…

This woman… was she even the same person he knew?

Her face on screen suddenly looked alien.

But he didn't care. He shoved another strawberry inside.

“Haa… Paul… enough…”

She tried to push his hand away, but he kept feeding them in—one, two… he couldn't count how many, but it looked like a lot.

“Haaang… Paul… stop… it won’t fit anymore…”

“Almost… just a sec… oh… there! In it!”

“Aaah… it hurts… it’s too full…”

“That's it… all in. Damn, Emma—your body is amazing.”

He chuckled, staring at her stuffed, swollen self.

“Huh… weird… take it out…”

“Haha, no. You do it.”

“Aaaang… it won’t come out!”

She strained, whining as she tried to push them out.

“Stand up.”

He made her squat over his face. He fumbled for the camera, then held it right in front of her.

“Aaang… it’s embarrassing… don’t take pictures…”

A brief tug-of-war—her trying to push the camera away, him insisting.

When she gave up, he pressed the lens right against her, snapping shot after shot. He reviewed them, then set the camera aside.

She gripped his hair like she was giving birth, bearing down with all her might. He performed oral sex and inserted fingers—finally, a strawberry popped out.

He pried her lips open with his fingers. One by one, she “gave birth” to the strawberries. When they were all out, she collapsed onto the bed.

“Aaah… Paul… I’m tired…”

What the hell were they doing? She looked utterly drained, like she'd just delivered a baby. He gently wiped her face with a towel, then gazed at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Then another deep kiss.

After a while, she turned and whispered:

“Paul… now do it with yours…”

“Got it. Haha.”

He repositioned himself. His hips moved gently a few times—then he lifted her thighs, pressing her knees against her chest, and started pounding into her roughly.

Her body moved toward him, bouncing with each thrust.

“Aaak… no… stop… it’s too deep…”

She tried to push him away, but he didn't budge. Instead, he went even deeper.

“Haaang… I said stop… please… Paul… don’t do this… I don’t like it…”

He ignored her, pumping harder, his breath ragged—huff, huff—then silenced her by crashing his lips onto hers.

Under the storm of his kisses, she couldn't speak. Her body just trembled, shaking with his rhythm.

Even when he pulled back, his lips glistening with saliva, she stayed silent.

Only heavy breathing and the slap of skin filled the room.

“Uuuuugh… Emma… I’m gonna… come…”

He nearly pulled out, then slammed in hard—over and over.

“Haaang… Paul… do it… cum inside…!”

“Huff… huff… inside?”

“Mmm… cum… deep inside… a lot…”

For a moment, they froze—then his body collapsed onto hers. She wrapped her arms around his back, her legs locking around his waist, refusing to let him go.

More kissing…

They stayed like that for a long time. Then he rolled off, reached over, and turned off the camcorder.

The screen in front of him was now black.

He couldn't look away.

What the hell was that? Did I see something I shouldn't have? What do I do now?

He wanted to beat him to death. He wanted to tear her apart. Every twisted thought imaginable flooded his mind.

He lit another cigarette, but it did nothing to calm the rage burning in his chest. He crushed the half-smoked butt into the ashtray and grabbed his phone.

He didn't answer.

His blood pressure spiked. He threw on some clothes and stormed to the parking lot.

He started the car and drove—no destination, just forward—toward the highway entrance.

Not long ago, after their breakup, they'd made love for the first time again. That night, she held him tight and begged him to cum inside.

Get me pregnant. I want to have your baby.

He'd come inside her three times before dawn, whispering over and over:

I'll never hurt you again. I love you. Thank you for loving someone as worthless as me.

Now, that memory—once so tender—was a sharp blade twisting in his heart.

He got onto the Yeongdong Expressway and called him again.

He answered, clueless.

“Hey! What’s up? You calling me now?”

He snapped.

“You motherfucker! Are you even human? How dare you call yourself my friend, you piece of shit!”

“Wha—hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“No talk. You’re dead. I’m coming. We’re finishing this. Now.”

He hurled the phone onto the passenger seat and slammed his foot harder on the accelerator.