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Chapter 1 — The Edge of Hate and Love

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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.


Harsh cigarette smoke quietly slips through my nostrils.

Is this emptiness I feel with age what people commonly call loneliness?

Perhaps boredom would be a more accurate word.

Jenny Park walks past. I instinctively turn my gaze away, pretending to watch the cars passing by on the street.

At twenty-seven, she’s a newlywed—tall, plump at first glance, with sharp, striking features that mark her as classically beautiful.

It’s been nearly a year since she joined the company and started working alongside me.

Shortly after her arrival, we held a modest welcome party. From that day on, without ever understanding why, I began to grow resentful toward her—quietly, steadily—while doing nothing but inhaling hot cigarette smoke.

A year ago, she was a bride who had just passed her first wedding anniversary when she entered the company. She was only twenty-six then, her unusually large eyes and thick, luscious lips still unchanged today.

In a workplace dominated by men, I’d initially approached her with pure concern, wondering if she might struggle. I tried to help in small ways, and through our warm, frequent conversations, I thought we’d grown close.

But whenever we met inside the office, the shy smile she gave me—timid like a child crushing on someone, yet slightly brazen—left me unsettled.

I told myself I was too sensitive, refusing to dwell on it, even feeling ashamed of the strange excitement it stirred within me.

Days passed like this until the company organized a casual welcome dinner followed by drinks.

We started at our usual pork belly restaurant, drinking soju with dinner, then moved to a nearby folk pub where we downed beer and more soju. One by one, coworkers left early, and as if by silent agreement, only she and I remained.

Our conversation gradually turned personal. She, clearly tipsy, eagerly shared stories about herself—acting dreams, civil service ambitions, friendships, art. Memories poured out with each drink, becoming vivid, almost real.

Our bodies slowly sank deeper into drunken exhaustion.

11:30 PM.

Time had slipped away. Carefully, I suggested we leave.

She looked slightly disappointed, straightening her posture with a coyness I’d never seen before, pleading softly, “Just a little longer.”

I was tired, and being alone with her felt awkward, strained. I stood up, urging her to come along. She didn’t resist and rose to her feet.

“Oh!”

As she stood, she swayed. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her waist to steady her.

Soft! Her hip and lower back flesh pressed against my hands and forearm, sending electric shivers through my entire body.

A man drunk on alcohol feels intense lust. Even if his arousal isn’t as strong or lasting as usual, it stirs violently at the slightest touch of soft flesh.

Inside me, an indescribable whirlpool twisted erotically, exciting me.

A woman’s body is strangely alluring. Perhaps because I’m so accustomed to my own male form, everything about her—what I lack—feels foreign, thrilling.

“G-Good… I’m okay. Sorry…”

She said this but made no move to push me away. For a moment, I felt a guilty, ominous thrill—and shamelessly enjoyed it.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I asked gently, forcing my voice to stay calm. She replied in a sticky, drowsy tone:

“Let’s go to a karaoke room for a bit? Sober up while singing?”

Everyone’s had this experience, right? It’s not quite suggesting fun—it’s something else.

I feigned mild reluctance but agreed. We found a karaoke room and rented a booth.

The owner eyed us slyly, smirking as he “kindly” led us to a tiny room at the end of the hallway, beside the emergency exit. He’d crammed two small sofas into the cramped space, making it nearly impossible to walk. His greasy smile and the eerie darkness of the room stirred ugly fantasies in my mind, making my heart race.

Thud. She collapsed sideways into the corner. I sat primly near the door, absurdly trying to keep maximum distance between us.

“C’mon… let’s each sing a song?”

I forced a soft, coaxing tone, opening the songbook, but she said nothing, eyes closed.

“You can’t fall asleep! If that’s what you wanted, why suggest coming here?”

I spoke firmly, disgusted with my own pettiness.

Leaning sideways, she opened her eyes and asked:

“What does it matter? You go first.”

I felt my face flush, staring intently at the songbook under the dim light.

My burning cheeks and swirling thoughts filled with filthy words, bubbling like soapy water—Fuck. How embarrassing. I’m overreacting. Tch.

Trying to appear indifferent, I selected a song and grabbed the mic.

Halfway through my timid rendition of a favorite tune, I glanced at her—and my breath caught in my chest.

I quickly turned back to the screen, catching the missed beat, then stole another look.

She lay slumped, seemingly asleep, her knees parted.

At 172 cm, she was slender yet plump, wearing a black blouse and a deep brown skirt that ended above the knee. Black leather high heels pointed sharply from beneath her. Her hair draped halfway over her face, swaying down to her chest, feeding my vile desires, making my cock twitch inside my pants.

As always, I pretended to adjust my posture, swiftly shifting my erection to the left unnoticed.

Simultaneously, my left thigh grew hot, while the filthy thing, cooled momentarily, now swelled even larger.

One song passed without memory. I queued four more, but I couldn’t sing anymore.

Only music oozed mechanically from the machine. My clenched fists glistened with sweat.

My body, naturally hotter than others, radiated heat mixed with perfume, food, alcohol, and cigarette fumes—an unpleasant aura.

“Uh... mm... ssshh…”

She shivered, hugging herself with both arms.

Her dull eyes remained shut, breathing softly. Despite the loud music, I strained every nerve, attuned to each breath she took.

Should I… take courage? No… maybe she’s waiting… but this isn’t right…

Countless chaotic thoughts flooded my mind. Amid the confusion, my fully erect cock refused to let me think clearly.

Heart pounding, losing rationality—I felt the pathetic weakness of humanity again.

Just living to eat and fuck, glorifying self-actualization and sacrifice—how hypocritical human life truly is.

At that moment, I moved like a possessed man.

No need to think or plan. My body moved skillfully, as if trained for years toward this very instant. My mind went blank, stark clarity cutting through.

“You okay?”

I whispered. She didn’t answer.

“You look cold… Are you really okay?”

Muttering clumsy, childish words, I wiped my sweaty palm on my pants and gently placed my hand on her left knee.

Her bare skin was icy, dispelling the grim mood of the dingy karaoke room. She flinched instinctively, pulling her knees together.

For those few seconds, my mind boiled with dread. But seeing her remain still, eyes closed, calmed me.

Did she pass out? Or not?

My blank mind refilled with chaotic thoughts.

I let my hand’s warmth spread across her knee, trembling with fear and lust, despising my own pitiful state.

When my hand finally cooled, I placed my left hand on her left knee.

“Mmm…”

A faint, sensual nasal sound escaped her as her body tilted further, sinking into the sofa, resting her head sideways.

Knowing she wasn’t asleep, yet pretending she was, I now accepted that she was awake—aware of everything, not missing a single sensation.

In an instant, my blazing lust demanded conquest. Without realizing it, I was on my knees between her parted legs, slowly lowering my head.

Hoooo…

I exhaled hot, perverse breath into her skirt. Overwhelmed by my breath, warm air drifted out—carrying an indescribable, musky scent that drove me wild.

A mild, sweat-mixed fragrance. The scent of thin fabric tossed in the dryer with anti-static sheets for freshness blended with the cloth’s natural smell, carrying the tang of her.

“Hn…”

With hypersensitive nostrils, I greedily inhaled, already desperate to taste.

My heart pounded so hard my breath hitched with each pulse, yet I kept exhaling, savoring the scent of her.

She was utterly silent.

Even her earlier soft breathing had stopped. The karaoke machine’s random songs had long ceased. The small room’s silence pulsed with each blue flicker of the monitor screen.

Only the rustle-rustle of fabric against my movements echoed, amplifying my anxious heartbeat. Nothing else.

As always, curiosity and the urge to conquer pulled me deeper into the mire…

Feeling my wildly racing pulse, I braced my hands on the sofa, leaning forward, slowly turning my head to blow hot breath between her right thigh and calf—the soft fold of flesh—then slowly pushed my soaked, eager tongue inside.

“……”

At that moment, I felt her unmistakably.

Her repressed movements and sounds burst forth in the tremble of her inner thighs—a trapped lust quivering through her flesh.

I decided, perversely, to defile her even more slowly.

My hot, wet tongue slid slimily over the folded flesh of her leg. I was so absorbed, so thrilled, I imagined feeling the same jolt she experienced.

After lavishing attention on one side, I slowly turned to do the same to her left thigh with my scorching tongue.

She subtly widened her knees.

Fucking bitch…

My lust-crazed mind sneered at her fake sleep, grinning inwardly.

Now my tongue glided over her upper thighs, barely touching, using the gentlest friction possible, obsessing over the illusion of feeling her fine hairs—enough to break her.

“Huh~hah~hup!”

She cut off a moan mid-sigh, still pretending to be drowsy, playing coy.

I cursed her silently with filthy lust, yet reveled in her act.

Unknowingly, we were both engaged in a roleplay.

Slowly. Very slowly. To avoid waking her, I placed both hands on her knees and spread her thighs.

When her knees opened about forty-five degrees, her skirt resisted—but the faint blue glow from the karaoke machine flashed just enough to reveal dark pubic hairs peeking through her black lace panties, taunting me.

Carefully, lovingly, I used my soaked tongue to torment the tender flesh inside her thighs.

Soon, my skilled, gentle hands swept upward along both sides of her thighs, outside her skirt.

The fabric, stretched by her spread legs, smoothly slid up, aided by the soft lining and my practiced touch.

Her thighs opened even wider.

I imagined she might lift her hips slightly—but she remained still, suppressing movement and breath.

Thus, only the front of her skirt lifted; the back stayed pinned under her ass, restricting my head’s freedom.

I nudged the skirt aside with my forehead, pressing my face into her crotch. Right before my eyes, she emitted the scent of femininity.

Too close to focus, I couldn’t properly see the lace panties I liked—but it didn’t matter.

Skillfully, I pressed the tip of my nose firmly against her clitoris.

Swish…!

Her motionless body flinched—the slight jerk of her waist felt like an earthquake to me.

Seizing the moment, I briefly lifted my nose, then pressed again, slowly rotating my entire head side to side.

Her trembling insides made my filthy cock swell painfully.

Dirty slut… heh…

Smirking silently at her silent compliance, I withdrew slowly from between her thighs and stood.

Fucking bitch… not missing a single move of mine.

My excited certainty turned me into a rabid dog. Staring at her—legs spread, black lace panties exposed, sunken into the sofa—I hastily unbuckled my belt, unzipped, yanked out my bursting cock, and fiercely jerked it with my right hand.

“Uh… huhh…”

Exhaling hot breath, I shook it loudly on purpose.

Th-th-thump… rustle-rustle… scratch-scratch…

My engorged cock, swollen beyond limit, slapped and twisted in my tight grip, occasionally making a cracking sound as if something were breaking.

Under the blue light, her flushed face glowed purple.

After indulging in perverse masturbation, I hurried toward her.

Shhhhk!…

I felt her ass twitch upward, then quickly sink back down.

Before my fingertips even touched her, her mere reaction to my approach—trembling—made me stare with a face dripping lust.

Kneeling, I carefully shoved my head back between her crotch.

This time, I deliberately coated my scalding wet tongue with saliva and pressed it against her clitoris.

Her slightly rough lace panties tingled against my tongue, absorbing my spit.

I slowly pressed, squeezed, and flicked my tongue up and down over her clitoris through the fabric.

Bolder now, I gently gripped her waist and slowly pulled her downward.

Her upper body slid helplessly along the soft sofa lining until her ass rested on the edge.

Her torso collapsed onto the sofa, her face twisted unnaturally as her long hair spilled over it.

Her lower half, hips raised, openly exposed her.

Thanks to the pulled-up skirt, her long, slender legs gleamed temptingly in the dimness.

Feeling like I might cum any second, face burning, I spread the thighs of this prudish slut as wide as possible and began licking her soaked panties with fervor.

Starting at the clitoris, I slowly traced the lace texture, pushing the fabric into the slit between her labia as I moved down.

Before reaching her, I already felt the slippery wetness with my tongue.

I pursed my lips, sucking and biting her panties, savoring them. She radiated damp heat across my entire face.

Dragging it out as long as possible, I released the wet fabric from my lips and gently bit the right upper part of her panties, slowly pulling them leftward.

Soaked with her juice and saliva, the fabric easily gave way. Finally, I devoured her bare with my eyes and mouth.

Hooking the displaced panties with my left index finger, I saw her sparse pubic hair—her swollen, engorged flesh gaping open.

Pink inner labia bloomed like flowers beneath her clitoris, surrounding the urethra.

Blood vessels, engorged to the limit, ran along the glistening edges of her labia, darkening them almost black.

Below the gaping hole, just above her asshole, a groove formed, filled with transparent milky arousal fluid, spilling over toward her puckered, chrysanthemum-like anus.

Such a delicious-looking…

Slowly leaning in, I placed the saliva-coated tip of my tongue on the hood covering half her clitoris, gently caressing around her nub.

Licking around it, then stopping. Licking again, then pausing. Pretending to lick while only blowing hot breath—Hooooo…—made her raise her hips, her flesh twitching in anticipation.

“Hnnn... hn... hup... ohhhhhaaaang~”

Until now silent as if dead, she suddenly moaned, lifting her hips.

Her sudden erotic cry overwhelmed me with excitement. Dizzy, I felt her two hands grab my head and pull me closer.

Roughly, I removed her hands from my head, placing the panties I held into her right hand.

I guided her left hand beneath her left thigh to support it.

The lust-driven woman moaned, enjoying my roughness, silently accepting my unspoken demand.

I lifted my head, looking at her, feeling immense triumph.

Nothing compares to the pleasure of making a woman who loves to bark like a dog submit like one.

Again, I skillfully played with my tongue.

I dragged my tongue from her clitoris down her left labia, sucking up at the bottom, then licked up the right labia—repeating this until suddenly, I covered her clitoris with my lips and sucked—Sllluuurp…—softly, while rapidly flicking my tongue inside my mouth.

“Awwwnng.. eh~nngenngennng...”

She emitted a sound like a nocturnal animal, dropping her hands from her thighs, thrashing.

SLAP!!!

I struck her ass hard and roughly, grabbed her flailing hands, and yanked them beneath her thighs.

“Uuunn... aaangak~ hooonnggnn...”

She writhed her hips, not resisting the intense stimulation but squirming, struggling to support her thighs as I commanded.

Both hands supporting her lower body trembled violently.

Next, I bit her left labia with my lips, pulling my head back, stretching it out like a flower petal.

Snap!

When the stretched labia snapped back, it bounced off my sucking lips and sprang back onto her.

“Aaaa…”

She writhed her hips, now twisting uncontrollably. Whether from shame or something else, she hid her face behind her tangled hair—but she was clearly aroused.

Stopping the labia play, I resumed licking up and down.

Moments ago, I’d licked vertically around. Now, I tore through the center of her gaping slit, up and down.

Dampness wettened my lips, nose, and chin.

Savoring the wetness and stickiness, I pushed my tongue into her hole.

As my tongue plunged inside, my nose naturally rubbed against her clitoris.

Rubbing her nub with my nose, I pressed and rubbed her urethra above with my tongue. She writhed madly, crying out in ecstasy.

For the first time since entering the karaoke room and singing, she broke the silence.

“Ahnn.. th-this.. uhheehhnn.. I’m craaazy... ohh.. noo...”

Fucking bitch. Heh…

Internally cursing her subconscious babbling, I continued pretending to lick up and down, exaggerating the motion to sweep my head from her clitoris all the way to her asshole in one long stroke. My goal was to watch her reaction to my attention on her ass.

“Gaaahn. Gnhh..”

She groaned, a coarse sound unlike a woman’s, forcefully lifting her hips to hide her asshole—revealing her inexperience.

Realizing this, I abandoned my fixation on her ass, knowing it could ruin the mood.

I wiped my wet face with the back of my hand and stood, briefly observing her glistening, exposed and her still-twitching body on the sofa.

“Suck it!!!”

I commanded firmly. As expected, she didn’t move.

“Should I just leave? SUCK IT!!!!!”

I ordered more harshly.

“...D-Don’t treat me so rudely.”

Her legs closed, hands covering her face, her voice shrinking away.

I knew there was no need—and no time—for hesitation.

Pffft!...

I walked toward her slowly rising body and shoved my fully swollen cock into her mouth.

“Mmf... khh... eek... eek.. guhhlk...”

Whether from inserting too deep, she gagged and coughed. I grabbed her head, lifting it, then poured deep, sloppy kisses onto her.

Not resistance, but feeble flailing—her attempt to justify her own wretchedness—soon gave way as she began sucking my tongue, clinging to me.

Just as males have a fierce desire to conquer, females have a desire to submit and be dragged along.

That bullshit philosophy I once read in a book was indeed correct.

Didn’t I already show her courtesy and respect before coming to this karaoke room? Now we’re just two dogs, entangled...

The shock of a kind, polite man turning rough and crude during sex is something no woman can deny.

And once experienced, they never forget it… forever…

Ending the rough kiss, I prepared to command again—but before I could speak, she was already sucking and pulling.

Did she choose to suck first rather than risk humiliating her laughable last shred of pride?

The thought vanished as my cock was expertly, devotedly sucked inside her mouth. My mind emptied, echoing only one voice:

Don’t cum now!

I pulled my cock from her lips, gripped the base tightly, and slapped her cold arm—pat-pat-pat—to suppress my climax.

Then, lifting her body, I slightly turned as if to reposition—immediately, she understood, kneeling on the sofa, raising her ass.

Upside-down, her glistening and chrysanthemum-like anus slammed into my consciousness, my heartbeat surging.

I buried my face and sucked noisily.

“Uuuuaaang... eeeaang... ahnm...”

Enjoying her freely moaning, sensually vocalizing, I hovered my right middle finger at her entrance, not moving, while kissing her plump ass with my lips.

She sighed in frustration, moaning, “Uwonng... going crazy... eeeong…” as she writhed.

I love watching a woman lose herself, discarding pride and dignity, becoming a dog.

Truthfully, male sex lasts mere seconds. Real satisfaction lies in the woman herself—losing her mind completely, going wild with lust, becoming a slave.

That’s why I have sex.

To her hungry, twitching , I whispered firmly:

“You take it. Suck. Swallow!”

The woman who moments ago begged not to be treated rudely now obeyed without resistance, her ass twitching as she moved.

Her starving reached for my finger with hunger.

“Annn... ah... ah.. ha.. ah..”

As she moaned, nearly swallowing my entire finger, I quickly bent it downward, repeatedly pressing and releasing.

She stretched both arms rigid, clutching whatever she could, moaning loudly.

Pulling my finger from her soft, slippery, violently shaking , I slowly inserted my cock, rubbing it near her entrance, teasing.

“How should I do it?”

I asked softly. She answered only with continuous moans. Her dog-like submission didn’t seem ugly at all.

Not ugly—cute, even—arousing me further.

“Say it! How should I do it?”

I had no intention of ending this childish game. She pleaded tearfully:

“...Pl-Please... “

“What?”

I smirked, trying to rub my cock more—but suddenly, she lowered her raised ass, swallowing my cock in one deep thrust.

Pfffft! Split!

“...Aaaahhh~!”

Even a slut knows sudden penetration hurts.

She screamed, almost cried. Punishing her for daring to sit down without permission, I pounded into her deeply and harshly.

“…Ugh… fucking bitch… tight… bite down hard, you damn slut… ah…”

Like a madman, I cursed endlessly, fucking her wildly, brutally.

“Ahynng Aaang Woooaamm… Hoonng…”

Either she couldn’t hear me over the pleasure—or perhaps being cursed while fucked excited her differently.

She offered no resistance, only tightening in rhythm, jerking her hips to meet each thrust.

I ruthlessly doggy-fucked her, sinking into endless pleasure.

Moving her hips side to side, up and down, I crushed every inch, stretching her slick inner walls like rags.

After relentless pounding, my thighs and ass grew heavy—I was nearing climax, unable to hold back much longer.

Whether from frustration or anger, I pounded even harder, deeper.

Probably a feeling every man knows—resentment, sadness that orgasm means the end of sex, making rage boil over.

I took it out on her helpless ass.

SLAP!!!... slap… SLAP SLAP!!! smack… SLAP!!!

Madly pounding, I mercilessly slapped her ass until it turned bright red.

She screamed incoherent moans and cries—whether from greater excitement or pain, I couldn’t tell—but she made no move to stop me, didn’t raise a hand.

“Uuuh… h… ngh… ugh…”

A sobbing moan escaped my lips. I savored the rising climax, gripping and shaking her swollen red ass, slapping it repeatedly.

Her flailing, bending, shaking head drove me wild, blood rushing to my face.

“Woooaanng~haangak… anng…”

She swung her hips in rhythm, crying out in ecstasy.

As I pressed down, fucking her from above, a hot wave surged over my cock.

Not missing a beat, I lifted my right foot onto the sofa, raising my position to slam down harder, crushing her “G” spot.

Her breathing began to choke, moans cut short, arms flailing—she was being dragged to climax.

“Hhip… ngh… hup!!!”

Her back and head arched sharply, limbs flung outward, breath paused—she looked agonized.

“Uh… g… ng.. you fucking… bitch… cum… nngh… you damn… fuck… bitch…”

Spewing filthy curses, I pounded her harder without mercy. Seconds later, she screamed aloud, her body convulsing violently.

“AAAAAAKKkkkkk…”

I felt her walls clamp around the base of my cock, pulsing as fast as my heart. Unhesitating, I unleashed a torrent of hot cum.

Without asking, I shot cum deep inside her—three, four times—long and short bursts.

Slap… slap…

After cumming, my body shuddered. I rubbed my oversensitive glans against her walls, then slapped her swollen ass mercilessly several more times.

Even as I pulled my extremely sensitive glans from her, my whole body continued trembling.

Gently, I slid a folded tissue between her limp, drooping ass cheeks, wiping.

Carefully, I cleaned the mess of cum and her juices smeared across her ass and thighs.

Then I leaned back on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and savored its sweetness and heat more intensely than ever before.

By the time I finished the cigarette, she slowly sat up, still unsteady, wiping leaking cum with tissues, adjusting her clothes.

Her hair was messy, her face mostly hidden—but I could see it, glistening, soaked with tears.

Since that night, an inexplicable hatred has grown inside me. Now, when we occasionally cross paths while I’m smoking, I avert my gaze, avoiding her completely.

What is the source of this hatred?

Within me, this writhing hatred surely has a reason.

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