Chapter 1 — One Night at Thirty-Eight

Cash poker, then hold'em, then slots.

That night was one night at thirty-eight.

A reunion with high school friends I hadn't seen in ten years—first round, second round.

Our talk drifted between past and present, and as we wandered from place to place with those who still clicked, only four of us were left.

We still had youth in our blood, and we wanted to end this joyful day on a high note.

With everyone's agreement, we arrived at a nightclub, called for service, and claimed our room.

Sipping soju, time blurred into chaos—and before long, a woman around my age had joined us by booking.

The booking unfolded in good spirits. Friends from the neighborhood had also come over, and now everyone was having fun in our room, pairing off.

My partner was Sarah Lee, a woman among them who simply didn't look thirty-eight—so youthful, so fresh.

Small talk flowed, and I began to explore her.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“I quit my job today. Threw in my resignation to the boss and came out to play with friends. Now I'm just a housewife. A pot-lid driver. Haha.”

Her laughter was bright, yet carried a strange, lingering echo.

“What about your husband?”

“He's stationed in another region.”

“So you're just with the kids?”

“Yeah. Weekend marriage. Going on two years now. Two kids—they're grown up enough to play on their own. So I'm the odd one out.”

I don't know why it felt strange, but every word she spoke made me want to pull her close and hold her.

“The music outside is nice. Want to dance blues together?”

“I'm not good at blues.”

“Neither am I. But the music's so beautiful—I just want to dance with you.”

Why did the walk to the dance floor feel so long?

Finally, I held her in my arms, feeling the warmth of her body, breathing in her scent.

“What about you?” she asked. “What kind of person are you?”

“Me? Hmm. I like having fun. I like women like you—this kind of vibe. And I like work. Just an ordinary guy.”

“You're a player, aren't you?”

“I am a player. Especially when a woman as stunning as you comes along.”

She laughed softly, white teeth flashing, and buried her face against my chest.

I gently touched her face.

Delicate. Petite. Almost doll-like.

Yet strangely at odds with that face, she had full, lush breasts.

And now, pressed against me, they felt even fuller.

Pulling her waist tightly toward me, I began to feel her entire body—her breath hitched, her eyes grew moist.

Her gaze gave me courage.

I pulled her closer until she could feel the mound of my erection pressing against her mound.

My cock was already hard, fed by her scent, by the softness of her chest.

I felt her eyes tremble.

“You're so beautiful. You make my head spin.”

I kissed her small ear gently, seducing her.

“I want to spend tonight with you. I want to feel this lush body I'm holding.”

She quietly wrapped her arms around me.

Out of sight from others, I touched her breast and pressed my hardness against her lower abdomen.

Holding her, I sought her lips.

The moment our mouths met, her breath mingled with mine, and her soft tongue slipped out, wetting my lips, welcoming me.

My hand had already found its way to her mound.

She whispered, breathless, “I'm a little tired,” and guided my hand.

Together, we stepped outside and looked for a motel.

At a nearby motel, no sooner had we entered the room than I went straight for her lips—unable, unwilling, to wait any longer.

I caressed her mouth, her breasts, peeling away her clothes piece by piece.

I unbuttoned her blouse, removed the bra cradling her chest—and her full, ripe breasts warped slightly under my hands.

“Be gentle.”

I kissed her breasts, dropped to my knees before her, and began pulling down her pants.

Lace panties flashed into view. Her beautiful mound revealed itself. Her pale, smooth legs emerged.

I leaned forward, covering her panties with my lips.

Smelling the sea, I searched with my mouth for her sensitive spot, while she softly stroked my head.

“Lay me down.”

I swept her into my arms and carried her to the bed, licking her lips as I went.

Tasting her soft tongue from those red, sensual lips, I gently cupped her breasts in my hands.

I ran my tongue over her small, dark nipples. She exhaled a thin breath and pressed her body tightly against mine.

As I caressed her breasts, I gently touched her mound.

Her trembling passed directly into me.

Her thirty-eight-year-old body, burning hot, quivered beneath my touch—desperate for my hands.

Moving from her breasts, I caressed her waist, peeled away the panties awakening from sleep, and freed her completely.

Her black pubic hair swayed, tempting me.

I kissed her mound.

Parting her soft curls with my lips, I searched for her treasure—her trembling intensified.

Her clit twitched.

Her inner lips parted, revealing her fierce desire. As my tongue violated it, her whole body surged alive.

My cock throbbed, leaking clear drops of lust, eager to explore her depths.

Her wetness was a whisper, endlessly seducing me.

“Hold me.”

I couldn't resist her fatal whisper. I sank into her—my entire self.

My cock met slight resistance inside her impossibly soft pussy.

Then, a short gasp from her.

Her body now swayed to my rhythm, moving freely.

My cock inside her became a dancer leading her through every motion, rising fully within her.

“Kiss me.”

Now she thirsted.

I found her pomegranate-red lips and poured my desire into her.

Her desire flowed back into me.

Her hips still rocked, parched and restless, and I poured my whole body into hers.

We raced toward passion, crashing into each other again and again, desperate to feel even a little more warmth.

“Ahh…”

A sigh escaped both our mouths at once—a long, drawn-out moan that plunged us into an abyss, like falling into darkness.

I found her lips again, confirming my existence.

“Hold me.”

“Are you cold?”

“No. Just hold me.”

“You like being held like this?”

I slowly traced a heart on her chest.

“Ticklish?”

“No… it's like my chest is that empty.”

So the night deepened at thirty-eight.

We felt the hollowness—the size of the hearts we'd drawn on each other's chests.

That night, we didn't just have sex.
It felt like we were leaving tiny traces in the empty chambers of each other's hearts.

Because our lives, slowly emptying, felt unbearably pitiful.