Chapter 1 — The Divorced Woman

When the shock of her divorce had finally begun to subside, Sarah Han decided it was time to return to work and opened a translation office in the heart of the city.

Having earned a Ph.D. in French literature and worked in the field before marriage, she faced no difficulty in setting up her business.

She focused her energy on hiring staff and re-establishing contact with former clients.

Perhaps because they recognized her competence, she secured even more clients than before.

From the very next day after opening, she and her team were buried in work.

The office primarily handled English, French, German, and Chinese translations.

Because she had carefully selected her employees, their skills quickly earned the trust of clients.

For nearly six months, they worked nonstop. Sarah Han’s French assignments and David Park’s Chinese translations, in particular, seemed endless.

Even during the busiest times, Sarah Han made time with her staff to escape to the river or the sea to relieve stress, and the occasional drinking sessions became a source of comfort.

Karaoke, especially, became a near-daily ritual where everyone proudly showcased their singing skills—though first place always belonged to David Park.

The employees worked hard.

Thanks to their efforts, the office grew rapidly in a short time, attracting substantial commissions from major corporations.

A year passed in a blur, and on the evening of Christmas Eve that year, Sarah Han rewarded her team’s dedication with a generous bonus and moved the celebration to a lavish drinking party.

After dinner at a reserved table in a hotel restaurant, her group headed to a nightclub at the insistent urging of the female staff.

To her own surprise, Sarah Han swayed her body to the lively music—something she hadn’t done in years.

Though in her early thirties, her figure remained so supple and slim that she was occasionally mistaken for someone in her twenties.

They danced in circles, holding hands and jumping together.

But when the music shifted to blues, Sarah Han returned to her seat and downed a beer in one gulp.

The hall filled again with upbeat music and dancing, then quieted once more for another blues set.

As everyone started heading back to their seats, the female staff pushed Sarah Han and David Park onto the dance floor, urging them to dance the blues.

David Park, blushing, approached Sarah Han and asked shyly if she’d dance with him. Feeling refusal would be awkward, Sarah Han took his hand and stepped onto the floor.

Neither was particularly skilled. They constantly stepped on each other’s feet, their movements clumsy and mismatched.

Yet they smiled warmly at each other, forgiving their awkwardness.

As time passed, their posture stabilized, and their steps began to match the rhythm.

When the blues set ended, they both felt a strange sense of loss—and when the next slow song played, they returned to the floor.

This time, David Park’s hand around her waist was firmer.

And so was hers.

Their bodies pressed much closer than before, and David Park’s thigh slid between Sarah Han’s legs.

Sarah Han told herself this was just the basic stance for blues dancing, nothing more, and tried to remain indifferent.

In fact, the closeness made moving easier.

But with every step, David Park’s thigh pressed deliberately against her most sensitive spot.

At the same time, she could feel the growing hardness of his lower body against her thigh.

Sarah Han, already familiar with men, grew warm quickly. Without realizing it, she subtly pulled David Park’s waist closer, pressing her hips against him.

David Park seemed startled and tried to pull back slightly, but Sarah Han stopped him with a soft, knowing smile.

Even as he tried to be careful, her lower body continued to be stimulated by the pressure of his thigh.

She felt herself growing wet, but forced herself to suppress the excitement until the dance ended.

Back at her seat, she downed a glass of beer in one go, slowly calming her racing heart.

This was how her first experience with David Park began.

The second came not long after.

Unlike other times, they extended their drinking session to a second round and, slightly drunk, headed to their usual karaoke bar to sober up.

When one of the female staff began singing an R&B ballad, David Park approached Sarah Han with a playful look and formally asked her to dance. Sarah Han laughed and took his hand, standing up.

The two women clapped and bounced excitedly.

Whether from the alcohol or the mood, David Park pulled her tightly against him.

Sarah Han, not to be outdone, wrapped both arms around his neck.

As they swayed slowly, David Park’s thigh slid beneath her short skirt, pressing firmly against her.

Each step intensified the sensation, heightening her arousal.

David Park, too, was clearly excited—the growing weight of his lower body pressed unmistakably against her.

Their faces flushed, but the flashing lights and the redness of their drunken expressions masked their emotions—just enough.

For an hour, they danced through waves of mounting excitement, ending the night with reluctant regret.

Outside, after a quick coffee, David Park hailed a taxi, sent the female staff home, and told Sarah Han he’d come back later to pick up his car once he was sober.

Sarah Han felt the same—she’d need to sober up before driving. Thinking it convenient, she followed him.

Whether he noticed or not, David Park walked into a nearby video booth.

Sarah Han waited a moment before following. When she entered, she couldn’t see him.

She asked the counter clerk where the man had gone, paid extra, and was directed to a room.

Stepping inside for the first time, she felt a strange sensation.

Especially since nearly everyone coming and going were young couples in their early twenties.

She slowly opened the door. The small room was dominated by a reclining chair, nearly filling the space.

Sarah Han stepped in carefully and tapped David Park’s shoulder. He was leaning deep into the chair, absorbed in the video.

She sat on the adjacent chair, stretched her legs, and leaned back.

David Park turned, eyes wide with surprise, staring at her blankly.

“I just wanted to rest here until I sober up,” she said.

They looked at each other and burst into quiet, nervous laughter.

The VTR had barely been playing for long when an explicit sex scene appeared on screen.

It was slightly awkward watching it together.

But as time passed, they forgot each other, drawn into the images.

Naked bodies appeared frequently, and sex scenes followed one after another.

Moans tangled with the music, and intense movements continued for long stretches.

As the screen showed scenes of passionate foreplay designed to excite, and a sticky background melody played, David Park’s fingertips hovered near hers—close, but not quite touching.

Caught in the mood, Sarah Han began to burn with heat.

Then David Park gently took her hand.

Sarah Han gripped his tightly.

Next, David Park turned his body, pressing close to her side.

Sarah Han’s upper body leaned toward him, and she felt his hot breath against her ear.

She closed her eyes.

David Park’s lips lightly brushed her earlobe, then softly kissed the nape of her neck.

Sarah Han shivered, letting out a soft moan.

She tilted her head back.

David Park’s lips covered hers, and they exchanged hot, frantic saliva.

His hand moved to her chest, unfastening her blouse and slipping inside to find her full, well-shaped breasts—shaped perfectly by years of a man’s touch.

David Park’s lips closed around her hardened nipple, gently sucking and tugging.

Sarah Han groaned, breathing heavily, stroking his head with both hands.

His fingers found her wetness, slipping inside without hesitation, sliding deeper as if searching for the source.

For the first time since her divorce, excitement and pleasure surged through her to the very tips of her hair.

But she wanted more—deeper stimulation.

David Park seemed to sense it. He lifted her skirt, pulled down her panties.

He buried his face between her legs and pressed his tongue firmly against her clit.

“Ah… mm, so good… just a little more. Mm!”

Her hot wetness gushed like a waterfall, and she could no longer hold back—she bent forward, collapsing onto the chair.

A moment later, strong pressure pressed against her from behind.

David Park thrust into her hard, then faster.

“Hah… hah… Boss… how does it feel?”

“Mmm… good… more… just a little more…”

Sarah Han’s whimpers and David Park’s groans blended with the sounds from the video, making it impossible to tell where reality ended and fiction began.

David Park gathered his final strength, thrusting deep one last time—then slowly collapsed forward.

Since then, they’ve continued to frequent the video booth, savoring the thrill.

But it wasn’t just the video.

It was real.