Chapter 1 — Swapping Lovers – Part 1 (1)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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I'm 45. My current sex partner is a female employee under me—just 23 now.

Two years ago, when I first saw her, she struck me as nothing more than cute.

At that time, I already had two sexual partners.

One was a 28-year-old woman from Daegu whom I met through chat, and the other was another female colleague at the company, then 26.

Maybe because she was so young—only 21—or perhaps because juggling two affairs without my wife finding out was already exhausting,

in any case, I treated her with no ulterior motive. I was simply kind, doting on her as the youngest in the department, genuinely fond of her innocence.

Then one night...

We were both working late when I received a call from Sarah (her full name is Min Kyung-eun). She was clearly drunk.

"Manager... I'm really drunk..."

"Yeah, I can tell. Are you okay?"

"You promised before—if I ever got too drunk, you'd take me home, right?"

"Huh?"

Then I remembered—I had said something like that once.

After hearing how she'd barely made it home alone after drinking heavily, I'd worried and told her jokingly, "Next time, just call me. I'll drive you."

But I'd completely forgotten about it until now.

So I left work mid-task, handed off the rest to my team, and headed to Apgujeong where she was.

Sarah was sitting on a bench in front of Hyundai Department Store. Beside her, a man and a woman—one of her friends, I assumed—were supporting her.

I hesitated seeing others there, but since I had no ill intent, I walked straight toward them. The girl beside her shook Sarah gently.

"Sarah, your manager's actually here!"

"See? I told you he'd come."

"She's celebrating her birthday tonight. That's why she drank so much."

Her birthday? Ah, that's right.

I usually make an effort to acknowledge staff birthdays, but lately I'd been swamped with a new supply project and hadn't noticed.

"Sarah, it was your birthday? Sorry… I didn't realize. It slipped my mind."

When I said that, she looked up at me.

"In return, take me home. That's my birthday present!"

"Alright, fine. But this doesn't count—I'll give you a real gift tomorrow…"

I helped her into my car and drove toward her place.

"You're really drunk… Just sleep for now. I'll wake you when we get close."

"Thank you… My friends all say our manager is such a good person. Hehe…"

She giggled happily, then leaned back against the seat and fell silent. Soon, her head lolled gently as she drifted off.

When I reached her neighborhood, I gently woke her.

She opened her eyes and pointed down a narrow alley.

"Just stop here."

"What? Where exactly is your place? I'll drop you right at the door."

"This is right in front of my house… See that bicycle? That's mine."

"Oh… So you'll get out here?"

"Yes…"

I pulled over.

"Thank you, Manager…"

"It's nothing. Next time you drink too much, call me again. I'll take you home."

I spoke while looking ahead, but she didn't reply.

I turned. She was staring at me.

"Manager… you like me, don't you?"

"...??"

What could I possibly say?

"Well, of course I like you, Sarah."

"No, not like that. I mean… really like me."

"......"

She kept her eyes locked on me. Then, avoiding my gaze, she turned forward slightly and whispered—soft but firm:

"I like you, Manager."

"...."

I stayed silent. Without another word, Sarah stepped out of the car. I watched her walk away, her back receding into the dim alley.

Suddenly, for the first time, I sensed a woman beneath that youthful exterior.

Now that I thought about it, she was tall, with a slender frame.

Her long, lustrous brown hair bounced lightly behind her, full and lively like a young girl's.

Below that, her body—slim yet surprisingly curvy—carried soft roundness in her hips, and long, taut white calves stretched beneath her skirt.

Could I date her? Sleep with her?

With someone so sweet, so childlike?

With a girl who wasn't even 21?

My heart pounded.

But more pressing—how should I respond to her confession? I couldn't ignore it. But I couldn't accept it outright either.

Even if I was experienced with younger women, she was my direct subordinate. Too young. And managing two lovers already felt overwhelming.

Back home, I couldn't fall asleep. The deeper the night grew, the larger Sarah loomed in my thoughts.

Her freshness. Her charm.

All this time, I'd only seen her cuteness—the way she spoke, her gestures—and overlooked the subtle allure I'd dismissed or never noticed.

Her delicate arms and waist. Her round hips and smooth thighs. And her unexpectedly full breasts.

I recalled how another section chief had once envied me, saying I had a beautiful junior under me. Why hadn't I seen it then?

Again and again, the image of her walking away from my car replayed in my mind.

Most vividly—her plump hips swaying, her fresh, shapely calves stepping lightly.

Screw it.

Let's do it.

For several days after her confession, I acted as if nothing had happened.

Honestly, I didn't know how to respond. But a few days later, she messaged me first.

She asked why I hadn't replied after she confessed.

So we agreed to talk—over dinner that evening.

We'd eaten together before during late nights, and often shared lunch when no one else was around.

But this time, from the moment we made plans, my heart raced and I couldn't focus on work.

I glanced at her—she looked flustered too.

Usually cheerful and chatty, always bustling about, today she sat quietly, doing only what was assigned.

Unusually subdued. And that quietness made her unbearably endearing.

We met at a restaurant a few blocks from the office.

Over dinner, we avoided anything beyond work talk—neither of us dared broach what really mattered.

After eating, I drove us to Yangsu-ri for drinks.

Shamelessly, I lied and said I'd liked her for a long time.

That's when she began telling me how she'd seen me all along—how every small thing I did had stirred her deeply.

I was stunned.

Every innocent gesture I'd made—she'd felt it ripple through her body and soul.

Like when I leaned close to explain work tasks, bending over her chair—my skin's scent alone made her heart race.

Or when my tie brushed her shoulder without me noticing—she said she felt electric shocks.

When male colleagues teased her or piled on work, I'd stepped in, defending her or lightening her load.

She'd interpreted every act as proof of my affection—each time, her heart swelling with emotion.

All things I'd done with no intention. Yet now, I felt utterly shameless.

"So you knew all along, Sarah? I tried so hard not to show it…"

I muttered.

"Pfft. Like you weren't obvious. Sometimes I worried others would notice."

She smiled, radiant with joy.

She drank heavily. Kept urging me to drink less since I was driving.

She ordered cocktails—downing four within two hours. I'd only had one, and by then, I was nearly sober.

Still, I suggested leaving the bar, saying we should sober up somewhere quiet, and drove toward the riverside.

Inside the car, we confessed our feelings again—(mine, of course, fabricated)—facing each other, whispering love, then kissing.

When I moved closer, she instinctively shrank back, pressing herself into the seat.

To kiss her, I practically twisted my spine.

We kissed for a long while. Naturally, my hand drifted to her chest.

The moment I touched her breast, she suddenly snapped awake and shoved my hand away with surprising strength.

In the end, I didn't get to touch her breasts.

Instead, for over two hours, I caressed nearly every part of her—her shoulders, arms, neck, cheeks, waist, thighs—everywhere except her chest and below.

21 years old… virgin skin, blooming like a young flower…

So slender, yet soft under my fingers. The tender flesh of her inner thighs and waist yielding to my grip…

Underneath the scent of her perfume, the faint, sweet smell of warm, youthful skin…

Slowly lifting her skirt in the dark—her pale, long legs glowing, her round thighs revealed…

The smooth yet textured feel of her stockings. The softness and resilience beneath…

But what drove me wild was her reaction—every movement of my fingers, every flick of my lips and tongue drew gasps, ragged breaths, trembling.

She said she'd kissed before—but only kissed. Nothing more.

Yet even my lightest touches, no special technique needed, brought her to the edge of collapse.

Especially when I sucked and licked her neck and ears—her whole body stiffened, twisting, her hands gripping my arm so tightly they trembled.

Later, she told me her mind went blank—tingling from her ears to her heels, fire burning in her lower back and hips.

For over two hours, I fondled her in the car, reveling in her milky skin and breathless reactions, before turning back toward Seoul.

On the drive home, she was half-asleep, half-awake—drained, dazed.

And seeing her like that—so vulnerable, so lovely—

At every red light, I leaned over, kissing her cheek, her forehead, her lips, then briefly tracing her lips, jaw, and neck with my tongue.

Each time, even in her daze, she exhaled sharply and shivered violently.

"Treasure."

It had been so long—I'd almost forgotten—but watching her then, I remember clearly thinking it in my heart: She's a treasure.

I pulled up in front of her house, kissed her once more, and let her out.

She waved brightly, smiling wide.

Then, the moment she turned, she skipped like a child—arms swinging, her little backpack bouncing behind her, her skirt fluttering—

And just from that sight—her back retreating, joyful and carefree—

My dormant cock surged back to full hardness.

I thought—maybe I don't need to go all the way. Maybe just dates like this would be enough.

At the time, shuttling between two lovers, I'd craved something fresh, invigorating… and in her, I found it in full.

Yet still, my filthy cock was soaked with pre-cum, and when I stepped out of the car to buy cigarettes, my groin felt cold in the night air.

Recently, I asked Sarah how she remembered that night.

She laughed—said her panties were a disaster.

From just that touching, she'd nearly climaxed four or five times, she said.

Even now, she looks back on that night with longing.