Chapter 1 — The Beauty Salon Miss

I go to salons more often than barbershops—it's just easier, more comfortable.

That day, rain fell softly outside. I had another business trip scheduled for tomorrow. Last-minute assignments like this were exhausting.

I paused my work. I still needed to finish organizing some documents…so I gathered the papers and headed toward the front desk, opening the door.

Our company occupied three floors of a four-story building. The first floor housed a dental clinic, while our offices spanned from the second to the fourth floor. My office was on the second floor, directly across from the president's room.

At the company entrance, two female employees handled reception and secretarial duties. One of them, Sarah Lee, also belonged to my department.

When paired together, Sarah Lee and Emma Jung would gossip endlessly instead of working, so we'd assigned them separate special tasks. One managed the president's documents; the other handled mine and oversaw market research.

As I opened the door, sure enough—they were deep in chatter, eyes snapping up guiltily.

“Sarah Lee, I'm going to get a haircut. If any calls come in, just leave a note saying I stepped out briefly.”

I expected a scolding, but her response surprised me—something vague and indifferent. An odd gray mood settled over me.

Lately, Sarah Lee's demeanor and fashion choices had changed. Maybe she'd found a boyfriend.

I left the office and walked toward my usual salon nearby.

Running a venture meant we didn't have a fancy office, but being near a residential area made it quiet and pleasant for work.

My regular salon was always crowded, so I usually had to wait a bit.

Lately, my wife had seemed worn out, enchanted by exhaustion. And with this project keeping me up at night, I couldn't even remember the last time we'd had sex.

If the salon wasn't busy today, I hoped I could rest a while in their massage room.

The salon was divided into sections: massage, washing, perming, and cutting areas. There was even a cozy waiting lounge with a TV—very convenient.

Being a regular, the owner often called out, “You look tired—rest a while. We're not too busy.” But I always hesitated. The massage room felt like a women-only space, somehow off-limits.

Still, because she'd insisted before, I'd occasionally gone in, telling myself it was fine.

But lately, something had shifted. Grace Kim, who used to cut my hair, had moved to different duties, and now the owner herself trimmed my hair—making me oddly self-conscious.

And one strange thing: when Grace Kim cut my hair, I never noticed anything. But now, the owner's body sometimes brushed against parts of me.

Maybe it was natural during a haircut—but today, curiosity gnawed at me.

I arrived at the salon. It was unusually quiet. Ah—I remembered. Today was their day off.

But wait—the sign said closed, yet the door was slightly ajar.

Was someone inside?

I pushed the door open and peeked in.

The owner was tidying up. She looked up and saw me.

“Hello?”

She greeted me first, as if expecting me.

“Are you closed today?”

“Oh! Yes, it's my day off. What brings you here?”

“I need a quick trim—tomorrow's a business trip.”

“Well, come in. I wouldn't let anyone else in, but since it's you, the department head…let me fix it quickly.”

Without realizing it, I was already sitting in the chair. A sense of ease washed over me.

Muttering to herself, she said, “I should lock the door…members might complain if they find out.”

She walked toward the entrance, her back reflected in the mirror. She must've been preparing to go out—she wore a thin beige pleated skirt and a white blouse. Her figure, seen from behind, was still beautifully youthful.

The sight stirred something in me. Heat rose in my lower body.

My face flushed with shame.

What kind of man am I? Here she is, giving up her day off for me…

As she moved around me, preparing for the cut, the scent of Chanel gently filled my nose.

“Hmm…

Just a regular style, right?”

“Yes,” I replied—my voice trembling slightly.

“You look tired.”

“Yeah…haven't been sleeping well. I was hoping to rest here today if it weren't your day off. Too bad.”

“Well, after your haircut, stay and rest. No one's coming.”

I'd always fallen asleep when someone touched my hair. Today was no exception.

Snip, snip…whirr, whirr…my head grew heavy.

But then—a sensation against my elbow jolted me awake.

My eyes were closed, but my body was suddenly alert, aroused.

She was trimming the side of my hair—and her pubic mound kept brushing against my elbow.

Could that happen during a normal haircut? But this felt different. More deliberate. Was it just me?

What should I do?

In an instant, countless thoughts raced through my mind. Let's see how she reacts.

I shifted my elbow slightly, pressing it between her thighs.

She flinched—just a little—but didn't pull away.

Then I moved my arm. Slowly, I slipped my hand beneath her gown, sliding it up her thigh.

Her soft skin, warm beneath the fabric, sent shivers through me.

She continued cutting—or was she just combing? I couldn't tell.

Is this okay? My mind spun. Stop. Just stop. The moment I decided to pull back, relief flooded me.

But my heart still pounded. I returned my hand to my lap.

Suddenly, she stepped away. A moment later, she resumed finishing my hair.

“This way, to the shampoo room.”

She spoke briefly and disappeared down the hall. Her back was graceful, almost pitiful.

Is it the weather?

She gestured for me to lie down and began adjusting the water. Avoiding eye contact.

I felt awkward, but lay down as usual—head tilted back, face covered with a towel.

Before, Grace Kim used to wash my hair. She had large breasts, and they'd often brush against my shoulder as she worked.

Secretly, I'd looked forward to that.

But now—alone with the owner in the private shampoo room, the salon empty—it felt surreal.

Her hands moved gently through my hair.

Her breath warmed my face. It felt hot.

Am I imagining things? I could feel her chest—soft, firm—pressing faintly against my shoulder.

“Ahh…”

An involuntary moan escaped me.

Did she hear? My face burned. I needed to leave—fast.

As she dried my hair, she offered to blow-dry it completely. I turned to leave.

The door was locked.

“Oh, I locked that earlier—people might walk in. Use the back door if you're leaving.”

She pointed toward the rear exit, her tone curt.

Outside, the rain still fell.

I pulled my umbrella over my head and walked back to the office.

Inside, I felt strangely guilty, as if I'd committed some unnamed sin.

Back at the office, people bustled about—preparing for tomorrow's project presentation, no doubt.

“Sarah Lee, did anyone call for me urgently?”

“Yes. The president said you're flying out tomorrow at 7:30 a.m., and told me to say 'have a safe trip.'”

I grabbed my bag—then froze. I'd brought a document to review and left it at the salon.

“Sarah Lee, could you go to the salon down the alley and pick up one file for me?”

“Yes.”

As she walked away, I watched her—her waist, the curve of her hips. She carried herself like a real woman now.

Last year, during employee training, we'd been on a night hike. She'd slipped on a slope, sprained her ankle, and I'd had to carry her.

I'd accidentally touched her chest lifting her up.

And when others went ahead, I carried her down on my back.

Even through her gym clothes, I remembered the feel of her buttocks, the small palm-sized panties, and her breasts pressed against my back—not unpleasant at all.

Had she changed that much since then?

A moment later, the door opened.

“Director, the salon door was locked?”

Ah, right—I'd forgotten. The front door was locked.

“Oh, Sarah Lee, don't worry. I'll grab it when I leave. Focus on your work.”

I sent an email briefing my team on tasks for my absence, then stood up.

I drove to the salon's parking lot and entered quietly through the back door—like I owned the place.

What if it's locked?

That'd be a disaster.

I gently pushed the door. It opened—just as I'd left it.

Where was my document? I'd definitely left it on the waiting room chair…

But where was the owner?

TV sounds—maybe a movie—drifted faintly. No one in sight.

No one in the waiting area either.

Then—a soft noise from the massage room.

I approached. Curiosity overwhelmed caution.

Peering through the curtain gap, I saw her.

The owner lay on the massage bed, one hand on her breast, the other moving rapidly between her thighs.

Her moans reached me—low, sensual.

Unconsciously, my cock hardened.

What now? I couldn't just leave.

I had to face her.

My heart hammered. My hands trembled.

After a deep breath, I knocked—knock, knock—and opened the door.

She startled violently, eyes wide with shock.

Her frightened gaze tugged at my heart. Something protective surged within me.

What should I do? I'd never been in this situation.

I stepped behind her and wrapped my arms around her.

My hands found her warm breasts.

She flinched—probably from my cold touch.

Her unique scent filled my nose.

Slowly, my warmth seeped into her. Her breathing deepened.

“I'm sorry…you had to see me like this…”

“Don't say anything.”

An eternity passed.

A warm tear slid down her cheek.

I didn't know why she cried, but emotion swelled inside me.

Her hand gently covered mine. Then, turning her head—lips parting—she sought my mouth.

I knelt before the bed. She turned, spread her legs, and pulled me close—into her embrace. Like a mother holding her child.

I'd never felt this before.

I buried my face in her lower abdomen.

A new, soft fragrance rose from below—intimate, mixed with bodily fluids. Sweet.

She lifted me up—so naturally, so gently.

My hands shook, but I collapsed into an indescribable happiness.

I have a loving wife at home…

Her hot tongue entered my mouth. I answered it.

Our tongues, clumsy at first, soon devoured each other.

Her hand slipped into my pants.

I couldn't remove mine from her breasts.

They weren't large, but soft, firm—touching them made me lose all sense.

“Mmm…”

Her hand gripped my cock. So hot.

In an instant, she laid me down and took my shaft into her mouth—licking it gently.

Then biting. Sucking. So soft.

“Haa…”

How could it be this gentle? At home, I never got this.

I pulled her closer, gripping her thighs.

Long, sleek—no fat, just smooth skin.

Trembling, I pulled up her skirt, slid off her tiny panties.

Her wet pussy stared back at me—already excited.

She was lightly haired. Already soaked. Her labia smaller than my wife's.

Maybe less experienced? Her pink folds glistened. I brought my lips to her.

It smelled divine.

My hands and tongue played her body like an instrument—perhaps only in my mind. But she gasped, nearing climax.

“Haaah…uhhh…how…ah…ah!”

I had to give her everything.

I stripped off my clothes, tossing aside every barrier.

Her eyes sparkled.

In my late twenties, I'd stayed fit with swimming and gym. Now, in my late thirties, I golfed once a month—still kept decent shape.

Was that why she looked at me like that?

Boldly, I stepped forward.

She unbuttoned her blouse—waiting for me to remove her bra.

Carefully, I unhooked it from behind.

Finally, we were completely naked.

I kissed her breasts, licked her navel, her ass—every erogenous zone bombarded by my tongue.

Her body arched like a bow.

Unable to bear it, she pulled me onto her.

I wanted to enter.

Spreading her legs, I guided my cock to her entrance. So wet.

She led my shaft with her hand. Tip touching. Then slipping into her vaginal opening.

“Ahh…”

A short cry escaped her.

Her vagina was tighter than I expected.

I tried shallow thrusts to generate more lubrication.

But it wasn't easy. She spat on my cock, massaging it.

Still, I couldn't slide in fully.

With both hands, she spread her labia wide.

I thrust hard.

“Ah!”

At the moment of pain, my cock vanished inside her.

Tight—so tight. Like a virgin.

My wife hadn't been this tight on our wedding night.

Tears welled in her eyes—like morning dew.

She seemed to want to say something. My heart ached.

Why?

I pulled her close, holding her tightly.

Her lips found mine. I kissed her gently.

Her tears soaked my cheek.

Time passed.

Gradually, her pussy softened, allowing my cock to move.

She grasped my waist, beginning to rock gently.

Like a bride serving her husband on their first night.

My cock stiffened again.

Matching her rhythm, I began thrusting. She made small, unclear sounds—pain or pleasure, I couldn't tell.

I didn't climax easily.

Guilt weighed on me—fear of being caught, betrayal of my wife.

But her hands glided softly over my chest, my back.

Despite my conflicting thoughts, my body raced toward release.

Shugak shugak…ppuk ppuk…peuk peuk…mmm…

“Ahh…”

My low groan ignited her.

Her entire body glistened with sweat. So did mine.

Softly, carefully, she whispered, “I love you.”

She looked so lovely.

I flipped her over, laying her facedown on the bed.

Her pussy tilted slightly backward—perfect for doggy style.

Now, entry was smoother.

I was stunned by the internal muscle movements I hadn't felt before.

I'd cheated a few times, but never met a woman with such skill.

My wife was amazing too—but this woman surpassed her.

“Uhh…”

I nearly came.

To hold back, I slowly pulled out—deciding instead to savor her pussy.

I knelt between her legs, licking her slit. Tangy.

My cum and hers mixed, dripping like mayonnaise clumps.

Her inner walls were red with arousal.

I inserted a finger—her vaginal muscles clamped down fiercely.

While fingering her, I sucked her clit—biting, licking.

Her incredible grip amazed me. Fluids steadily leaked out.

She hugged me gently—eyes pleading, put it back in.

I lifted her legs, placing them on the bed, folding them like a frog.

Wide open, I plunged my cock back in.

Though still tight, entry was easier than before.

Her pretty face twisted in pain—but softer now. Her pussy had loosened considerably.

In and out, my cock slid into her warm depths.

“So good.”

Watching my cock disappear into her small, tight hole, I neared orgasm.

She looked early thirties—yet her body was slim, toned like a young woman. And so skilled.

Mirrors on the side made us look like porn stars. Even sexier.

She seemed uncomfortable—maybe her legs hurt, or she disliked the position.

“Please…lie down with me.”

I turned her over, mounting her stomach.

Her moist lips found mine.

We held each other, silently, for a long time.

My cock was seconds from exploding—held back too long.

Her pussy refused to release me. So tight.

We sat up halfway, continuing.

She used her legs and hands to aid my piston motion.

Half-lying, I attacked her pussy.

Fluid overflowed. Then, a faint spasm inside her.

Shugak shugak…ppuk ppuk…suk suk…mmm…ahhh…

Our breaths filled the room with heat.

She wrapped her arms around me.

Hot semen erupted from my cock, flooding her womb—more than I'd ever released.

She moaned, “Aaahhh…” in response.

It felt like flying.

In a soft whisper, she repeated, “I love you…thank you…sorry…”

I called the office. Mr. Kim answered.

“Any calls from home?”

“No.”

“If one comes, say I'm delayed due to a client. Thanks…wish me luck on the trip.”

“Have a safe journey.”

Footsteps approached—someone carrying something, walking awkwardly. A woman?

If it was someone else, what would I do?

The door opened. A faint clink of dishes.

No—it's her. She'd brought food.

How was this possible?

She'd changed—wearing a neat pink dress with a beige cardigan.

She set down containers—homemade meals, it seemed.

“I'm sorry…did I keep you waiting?”

“No. Where did you prepare all this? I was unconscious the whole time. You cleaned up alone? I'm terrible at helping at home.”

She smiled shyly—like a bashful bride.

She urged me to eat first.

She'd eaten a little while preparing, she said.

The food was delicious—rice perfectly cooked, side dishes clean and flavorful. As if someone had studied my tastes.

Finishing the meal, I finally took in her full appearance—the neat dress, the calm atmosphere.

“Jenny!”

Her eyes widened.

She looked shocked. How does he know my name?

I saw it on your business license.

“Don't be surprised. It's okay.”

She nodded slowly.

“What now? Is this…okay? Can we meet again?”

“Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Her question silenced me.

No—why should I be uncomfortable? Of course I want this.

“No… I was worried you'd feel uneasy because of me.”

“Then let's just be friends,” she said, smiling brightly.

I laughed—perhaps the smile of a victor. Inside, excitement bubbled.

“Jenny, where are my clothes?”

“Oh, I washed your underwear. Your shirt and pants are at the dry cleaner's up front. You can pick them up later. Don't worry—rest as long as you like.”

“Jenny, did you see a document I brought when I came for a haircut?”

“Yes, I kept it safe. I thought you'd come tomorrow… I'll give it to you before you leave.”

“Jenny…is it really okay to be friends like this? Do you have a husband…?”

“No, don't worry. I'm alone. That won't be an issue.”

“…so, you're single?”

“No. I'm divorced. That's why I run this salon. Don't tease me for being a single woman.”

“Would I ever? What about children?”

“No kids. I divorced soon after marriage…because of my husband's jealousy.”

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

“I'm sorry…that was intrusive. I'm sorry. Come here, Jenny.”

I pulled her close, patting her back.

My lust hadn't faded, but stopping here felt right—for both of us.

She kissed me. I explored her tongue. We acted like lovers of many years.

Once the line is crossed, there are no words or acts left unsaid… She seemed to realize it was getting late and gently urged me.

“Aren't you running late?”

“What time is it, Jenny?”

“It's almost ten.”

“I should go. Too late, and tomorrow's trip will be affected. I still need to pack at home.”

“Doesn't your wife help?”

“No, I prefer doing it myself. It's easier.”

“…how much do you know about me? Did I misread you? Am I not your type?”

“No…all the female staff talk so much. I've heard everything about you.”

“Oh! So that's it…those brats…do they call me a bad guy?”

“No. They say you're deeply affectionate.”

“Really? That's a lie. I can't be.”

“It's true. Why would I lie? That's why I…grew to like you.”

“I see. If I were truly bad, I wouldn't have met you.”

We burst into laughter, joyful and free.

“Jenny, I should get going.”

She left and returned with my clothes. My socks and underwear—clean, freshly washed.

My shirt and pants were brand new.

Dressed, she approached from behind and wrapped her arms tightly around me.

As if I were leaving forever.

I turned, lifted her by the waist, and kissed her lips.

Then—

“I'll come back. And next time, we'll talk more.”

“Be careful out there.”

She waved goodbye—tenderly, like a wife seeing off her husband.

My steps were heavy, but I walked toward home.