Chapter 1 — She and I, and No One Else

It was a night spent alone.

Or so I thought—yet I could feel someone’s gaze on me, even in solitude.

Just my imagination, I supposed, forcing a bitter smile as I sat down in front of the computer.

Days had passed without sex, and my body had grown hypersensitive.

I thought about jerking off, then opened a chat room instead.

A few meaningless usernames floated by—people clearly hunting for sex. But when I saw overtly sexual nicknames, I felt a wave of disgust.

Then, a conversation started with someone my age.

We exchanged the usual pleasantries—where we lived, what we did for work. None of it mattered. Anyone could lie about those things if they wanted.

The chat flowed easily, pleasantly enough, and eventually I asked if she could meet.

She agreed immediately. When I offered to pick her up by car, she seemed genuinely happy.

I pulled up in front of her place. She wasn’t as impressive as I’d imagined.

I didn’t really want to go through with it anymore, but out of politeness, I figured I should at least buy her a drink.

Before I could speak, she said she wanted to get some fresh air.

Fine.

I shrugged and set off. We crossed the Paldang Bridge and wandered into a nearby café. As we walked in, I casually placed my hand on her thigh.

She didn’t flinch. In fact, she smiled faintly—then placed her own hand over mine.

Inside, I ordered a jujube tea. But then she ordered alcohol.

At this point, I decided to be blunt. I asked her, honestly, when she’d last had sex.

She glanced at me sideways and laughed. That laugh made her slightly more bearable.

Most women, I’ve found, only open up about ten percent of themselves when they first meet someone. If her friends had asked her the same question, would she even have answered?

She said it had been quite a while.

“Yeah? Then how about sleeping with me? What do you think?”

She just laughed again—no clear yes, no outright refusal. So I took it as consent.

I pulled her up from the table and led her to the car, agreeing to another drink.

Not far from the café, a motel I’d visited before came into view.

She took my hand, walking close beside me, standing sweetly in front of the counter. She probably wanted us to look like a couple.

We got the key and stepped into the elevator. I kissed her.

She kissed back without resistance. But somehow, I felt my excitement fading.

Back in the room, I sat her down and unzipped my pants. Without a word, she leaned forward and pulled me toward her mouth.

Her tongue brushed lightly against the tip. Hesitant at first, as if savoring the taste.

I pressed her head down slightly, and she began sucking in earnest.

The warmth of her tongue sent a shiver through me. She was really going at it—like she genuinely enjoyed it.

She must have felt my eyes on her because she looked up.

“Don’t watch.”

A nasal murmur. I said nothing, just pushed her head down again.

When I felt the first signs of climax approaching, I pulled her up.

I turned her toward the bed, lifted her skirt.

Black lace panties. She’d clearly come prepared.

I pulled them down and groped her pale, smooth buttocks before sliding a finger inside.

Already wet. I pulled my finger out and pushed it into her mouth.

She sucked on it hungrily, smacking her lips as if savoring her own taste.

While one hand groped her breast, I entered her.

She was already soaked—no need for foreplay. But strangely, I felt my interest waning.

“Ah… ”

I felt her mouth open, my finger slipping out.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I started moving.

Each thrust pulled her head forward in rhythm.

“Huh… ha… ah… ah… ha… ha…”

Her breathing grew ragged. She was feeling it now.

She raised her hips higher, grabbing my ass with one hand, surrendering completely to sensation.

Then her body stiffened. Her insides convulsed violently around me.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah~~~~”

She screamed once, then collapsed, her body going slack.

I stayed still for a moment, stroking her gently.

Five minutes passed. She composed herself and sat up.

Then she started moving again.

Faster this time. Deeper.

Suddenly, I wanted to see her face.

I flipped her over onto her back and lifted her legs with both hands.

Her expression was dazed—like she was in pain, or overwhelmed.

She reached out and touched my nipple. The unexpected sensation sent a jolt through my lower back.

She propped herself up and took it into her mouth, licking with the tip of her tongue. The teasing sensation reignited my arousal.

“Hah… hah… I’m close. Can I come inside?”

Instead of answering, she grabbed my hips and pulled me deeper into her.

“Ah… huh…”

She gasped, breathless, as she reached her second climax.

We lay together for a while, stroking each other in silence.

“Let’s wash up and leave.”

“You’re not staying the night?”

“I have to be at the office early tomorrow.”

“I see.”

I comforted her with a few soft words, quickly cleaned up, and left the motel.

I dropped her off in front of her building, promised to call, then turned the car toward home.

A strange laugh bubbled up from inside me.

How many men has she been with? And how many women have I been with? I can’t even be bothered to count.

This society that guarantees anonymity breeds endless secrets.

Tomorrow morning, she’ll walk into her office like nothing happened. I’ll meet my friends as if my night was ordinary.

No one will know we met, that we fucked.

No one but her.

And me.