Chapter 1 — The Housewife Employee

I looked at the housewife I'd hired. She was far too young to be called a "married woman." At twenty-nine, she could've easily passed for a spinster. Dressed in a tailored suit, she looked more like a virgin than a married woman. But that's exactly what made her more tempting—because she was married. Someone else's wife.

In Japan, "hair nudes" were all the rage these days. "Hair" referred to pubic hair, meaning nude photos where pubic hair was visible. If it were just any nude with pubic hair, it wouldn't be special. But the fact that the models were ordinary housewives—that was the secret to their popularity.

As the buyers themselves admitted, wasn't there something irresistibly thrilling about seeing the pubic hair and naked body of another man's wife? And from my perspective, since I specifically wanted a married woman, hiring a housewife was even more effective. If I could seduce just one, it'd be killing two birds with one stone—pleasure and possession.

Virgins were difficult to handle. They didn't know the taste of sex, so seducing them was hard. But married women? They knew sex. They'd grown tired of their husbands' predictable routines. A little provocation, and their ripe, full bodies would burst open, ready to be devoured.

The woman I'd hired was a perfect "young professional" type—youthful, stylish, undeniably attractive.

I immediately appointed her as a sales supervisor and always took her along on business, using work as an excuse. We grew close enough to exchange bold jokes and suggestive remarks.

As expected, being a married woman who knew sex, she responded well. We even joked about whether her husband satisfied her at night.

I knew women got wet from dirty talk like this. I'd casually use her husband as a pretext to "teach" her about sex in graphic detail. While doing so, I'd imagine the dampness spreading inside her panties, subtly testing her reactions.

“I could show you in person, not just tell you.”

She'd laugh and refuse.

Maybe, deep down, she was thinking:
“This guy keeps pushing… If only he weren't my boss, maybe I'd just…”

She might have been thinking that—but either way, I enjoyed it, and she didn't resist strongly. I'd sometimes wonder: If her husband knew what was happening, would he still let her work here? I even imagined how my own wife would react in such a situation.

But then I'd catch myself—my wife didn't have a job, and besides, I was the one pursuing this married woman. I'd smirk bitterly at my own hypocrisy. Worry wasn't my job. That was for her—and her husband—to carry.

I just wanted to taste her.

At first, I'd steal glances, imagining her naked body hidden beneath her clothes, avoiding her eyes. But as we grew closer, I started staring deliberately—lewdly—fixing my gaze on her full breasts and under her skirt when she sat across from me.

She'd giggle and cover herself.

“What are you looking at? You're so creepy…”

“If you weren't someone else's wife, I'd do more than look. I'd propose marriage. You drive me crazy. Heh heh.”

She didn't seem to hate the joke.

Then one night, around 11 p.m., I drove her to a quiet, isolated spot. She wore a skirt and blouse, sitting beside me, seemingly relaxed, unaware.

Earlier that day, I'd noticed her bare back—no undershirt, just a bra visible beneath her thin blouse. Sunlight had shone through her skirt, teasing glimpses of her thighs. Every time she got into the car, her skirt would ride up, exposing her legs—and sometimes more—to my eyes from the driver's seat.

Whether intentional or not, she kept revealing deep glimpses of her thighs. Once, I even saw her panties.

They were red—not bright, but a soft, pretty pattern. My pulse flipped. I pulled over. We were near an empty lot off the highway entrance. I turned off the engine. She smiled.

“Why'd we stop here?”

“Just taking a break… Traffic might be bad.”

“Oh… Should I grab us drinks? I saw a vending machine back there.”

“No, it's fine.”

“Okay…”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“What color are your panties?”

“Huh? Hahaha… You're so weird, President… Always asking strange things.”

“Red, right?”

“Y-yes…? When did you see them?”

“Every time you got in the car…”

“How embarrassing… Seriously…”

I lied and said I'd seen them on purpose. It'd make things easier. Then I added:

“By the way… I think something was stained on them earlier…”

“Wh-what? Don't look…!”

She shifted, pulling her skirt up slightly to hide it from me. But lifting her skirt right beside me and saying don't look? That wasn't modesty—that was teasing. Provocation.

I peeked over her shoulder. Her pale thighs were exposed—the same ones I'd seen in the sunlight earlier. I couldn't hold back anymore.

I reached across, grabbing her breast. Startled, she jerked her body, trying to slap my hand away.

“Stop it! Let go! What do you think you're doing?!”

“Stay still… I've wanted you for so long… I love you…”

We both knew it wasn't true. But I said it anyway. People are weak to atmosphere—especially women. Even if it was a hollow lie, I thought it might soften her.

“I really love you… You have no idea how hard it's been…”

I kissed her neck fiercely.

“Mmm… Please… President… Ugh…”

Her resistance wasn't strong. I was already confident. Our relationship had started the moment she walked in. The moment I made her sales supervisor.

We'd already been having mental sex through dirty talk. All it needed was a trigger. But until now, there hadn't been one—and I hadn't had the courage.

Tonight, desire gave me that courage.

When I hired a housewife, I'd imagined the affairs so many men dream of. I didn't care about her skills—only her beauty, her body, her gentle, pliable nature. I chose her because she seemed soft, easy to manipulate.

And she was.

As I groped her breast, she only whispered:

“President… Please… I can't… I have a husband… and children…”

That was all. Everyone knows that. But for her to say only that while I fondled her breast?

My confidence surged.

Cars passed by, their headlights sweeping the area, but she made no move to call for help. She wasn't thinking of escape—only of getting through this moment.

I kept kissing her neck, squeezing her breast. Then, with my right hand still on her right breast, I reached across and grabbed her left. I was now embracing her.

My left hand moved to her skirt. It was already above her knees. I slid my hand underneath—but she clamped her legs shut, blocking me.

“No… President… Stop now…”

“I love you… I've loved you from the start… Do you hate me, Manager Hwang?”

I grabbed her skirt with my right hand, pulling it up completely while still groping her breast. I rubbed the top of her pubic mound over her panties.

I could feel the soft hair through the fabric. I tried to push my fingers between her legs, but she kept them tightly closed. My left hand was stuck, unable to go further.

“Manager Hwang… I just want to touch your beautiful body once…”

Her legs couldn't stay tense forever. Slowly, they began to weaken. I reclined her seat backward. Her body fell flat, lying down.

I pulled her shoulders toward me, straightening her on the seat, but her legs stayed tightly shut. She even crossed her arms over her chest, protecting her breasts.

I'd let go of her skirt to adjust the seat, giving her time to fortify her defense.

But I switched tactics—attacking her face.

“You don't mind if I kiss your face, right?”

I pressed my lips to every part of her face, sucking, nibbling.

While my hands struggled to free her arms, she couldn't stop my mouth. I knew a woman's ear was a erogenous zone. I sucked her earlobe, then plunged my tongue deep into her ear canal.

“Mmm… Hah… No…!”

She couldn't bear it, covering her ear with her hand. I seized the moment, grabbing her breast again.

With her mouth and breasts both under attack, she could only defend one at a time. I gripped her breast tightly.

“Mmm… Hah… Ah… Ha…”

Her body, already sexually awakened, responded instantly to even the slightest touch. I took her left nipple into my mouth.

Slurp… suck… suck… suck… suck… suck…

I sucked her left breast while fondling the right. Then, in one swift motion, I reached down toward her groin.

Her legs, slightly parted, snapped shut again. But her panties were damp—wet with arousal. My fingers came away slick with her juices. To heighten her excitement, I whispered, provocatively yet elegantly:

“I want to suck and drink your clean, intoxicating wetness… Manager Hwang… Mmm… suck…”

“Ah… Ugh… Ahh… I'm going crazy… Ah…”

Her legs weakened, no longer resisting. I slid my hand between her thighs, pressing my fingers against her clit over the panties.

“Hnng… Ahh… Ah! Hnn… Hah… Hah…”

Even through the fabric, she felt pleasure. Her pussy was a perfectly developed instrument. At twenty-nine, married young, her body had been seasoned by years of sex. But now, it wasn't her husband's dull, familiar touch—it was another man's hands, awakening her.

Her body was ripe, but her tool had been lacking. Now, it was being reignited by a new one.

The seat was now fully reclined. She lay flat on it.

I pushed her further back. Her upper body nearly fell into the backseat, only her lower half still on the front seat.

I stared at her exposed thighs, swallowing hard, then pulled her skirt up until her panties were visible. The red panties glistened, soaked with desire.

“You feel it too, don't you? This…”

I pressed my fingers just below her groin, rubbing her clit.

“Hng… Mmm… Hah… Mmm…”

Her labia felt soft, responsive. I focused on that spot. I had to satisfy her. Only then would she stay with me.

This couldn't be rape. It had to be mutual satisfaction. Not a one-time thing. She couldn't regret it. I had to make her crave me—make her unable to live without me.

I had to stimulate every erogenous zone.

While fingering her, I shifted my body toward her seat, then pressed my lips to her panties and blew warm air.

“Hah… Ugh… Hot…”

It must've felt intensely warm. I sucked her pussy through the fabric, tugging as if devouring it, then licked up and down with my tongue.

“Ah… Hah… Mmm… I'm going crazy… Ah…”

I grabbed the edge of her panties and pulled them down.

“No… No… Ah…”

She protested, but weakly. As I licked while pulling, her resistance faded.

The panties slid down her thighs. I pulled them off completely, down to her feet. Her hidden pussy, already drenched, glistened with arousal. Wetness dripped onto the seat.

“It's… dripping… Ah… Ugh…”

Feeling my mouth, she trembled with renewed excitement. I licked and sucked her bare pussy.

“Your pussy is so beautiful… To think another man got to taste it first… It's exquisite… Ah… lick… lick… suck… suck… suck…”

“No… Ah… Hah…”

“I love you… Manager Hwang…”

Her bare labia, softer than the fabric of her panties, made me want to bite and devour them. I sucked every drop of her wetness.

Slurp… suck… suck… gulp… gulp… suck…

“No… No… Ah… Hah… Hah… Ugh…!”

Her body slipped down the seat, now lying diagonally. I'd slid my arm under her legs, bringing her pussy to my face. I was beside her, sucking her while gripping her breast with my other hand.

Anyone passing by could've seen her naked body. Maybe someone had passed. We were too lost in sex to notice.

And I didn't care. This wasn't my wife. I didn't want to hide her.

I wanted others to see her—this married woman, moaning in ecstasy as a stranger's lips sucked her pussy. The thought excited me even more. She cried out uncontrollably.

“I want to scream… I want to… Ah… Hup… Hah… Ah!”

“Scream… It's okay… Scream… I love you…”

“Ahh! Ah! It's too good… Ahh! Ugh… Hah… Hup… Mmm… Ah… I'm going crazy…”

I stopped sucking, inserted my fingers into her pussy, and thrust them in and out, then climbed on top of her.

Thrust… thrust… thrust… thrust… thrust…

Her wet pussy and my fingers made slick, squelching sounds. Her pussy was already well-conditioned—easy, smooth. No wonder men craved married women. It was killing me.

Three fingers slid in effortlessly. I pulled down my pants and took out my cock.

It was hard to undress while caressing her, but I managed after a moment. I didn't fully undress—just lowered my pants and underwear enough to free my cock.

I positioned myself over her, then leaned in to kiss her face. I squeezed into the narrow space beside her, pressing my lips to hers.

“I love you… Manager Hwang…”

The final whisper before penetration. The space was tight, but I managed to lie down. I stared into her half-lidded eyes, licked her ear and cheek, and groped her breast.

It was easier to caress her like this—but penetration would be difficult.

So I moved back to the driver's seat, reclining it fully. I slid my left leg under her left thigh, then brought my right leg over the other side.

It was too tight. I didn't know where to put my legs. So I opened the window and stuck one leg out. It worked—much more comfortable now.

Our bodies were now completely twisted at a 90-degree angle, legs intertwined. She still moaned under my hand, her breast being fondled.

“Mmm… Hah… Hah… Ah… Hup… Ah… Mmm…”

I bent her knees upward, carefully aligning my cock with her pussy, then thrust my hips forward.

“Ugh… Ah! Ah! I'm… I'm going crazy… Ugh… Ah!”

My cock plunged into her. The moment it entered, I began thrusting wildly, tearing into her pussy.

Her pussy welcomed my cock as easily as it had my fingers. Her husband must've trained her well.

“Ah… Ugh… Ah… Ah… Hnng… Ugh… Grrr…”

“I love you, Manager Hwang… Fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck…”

It thrilled me—fucking a pussy that her husband had probably fucked just days ago.

Maybe he'll fuck her again tonight when she gets home… Heh heh…

“I love you… Manager Hwang… Manager Hwang… Manager Hwang…”

“Guh… Y-yes… P-President… It's good… I'm going crazy… Ah… Ugh…”

“Manager Hwang… Can you hear me? Fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck…”

“Y-yes… Y-yes… Ah… Hah…”

“Better than your husband?”

“Y-yes… Y-yes… Better than him… Guh… Hah… Ugh…”

“Better than anyone? Fuck… fuck… fuck…”

“M-more… M-more than… Ah! Hah… Ah…”

Now, our sweat- and juice-soaked bodies slapped together with wet, squelching sounds.

“Hah… Ah… Ah… Hah…”

I wanted to cum. But the position wasn't ideal. I pulled out, sat up, then brought her legs together and lifted them high, pressing them against her chest. I climbed on top, aligning my cock with her pussy, then thrust down.

“Hah… Ah!”

Her moans burst out again. This was the position I'd chosen to cum.

Thrust… thrust… thrust… thrust… thrust…

The sound of our lower bodies colliding echoed. This position was intensely stimulating. I'd chosen it on purpose.

I wanted to fuck her like this—her legs raised, pressed to her chest, her pussy wide open before a man who wasn't her husband.

A married woman, spreading her legs wide for another man, moaning in ecstasy, making faces she should never show anyone—faces of pure, shameful pleasure.

Just thinking about it turned me on. Watching her face, I felt pleasure surge to its peak.

I wanted to cum. Deep inside a married woman's pussy. Inside a woman who belonged to another man.

I leaned in to kiss her face—her expression twisted between pain and ecstasy. But in that moment, I reached climax.

“Guh… I'm… cumming… Ugh…”

“Ah… No… Not yet… Ah…”

She felt my cum and tightened her pussy around my cock.

“N-no… Not yet… Just… a little more… Please…”

My cock spasmed, shooting cum in thick pulses.

“Ghk… Ghk… Ghk…”

With each spasm, her pussy clenched me tighter. I squeezed every last drop into her, then exhaled deeply.

“Haaah…”

I lowered her legs and collapsed beside her. She stretched her legs forward, slowly coming back to herself. She looked at me. I smiled.

“Was it good? I really love you…”

“Haaah… President… What were you thinking…?”

“I told you—I love you… You're like an angel…”

“Don't joke… If I report you for rape, what will you do?”

“You can't be serious… I love you…”

“Haaah… My husband can't find out…”

“Don't think about him… I'll treat you well…”

I gripped her breast tightly.

“Really… You wanted me this much?”

“Of course… Why do you think I hired you?”

“…”

“I fell for you…”

“Let's pretend this never happened…”

“Alright…”

“Not now, though…”

I kissed her lips, then cupped her pussy.

“Your pussy… is incredible…”

I gently stroked her pubic hair, combing it with my fingers.

“No… It can't happen again… This was a one-time thing… I have a husband… and children…”

She pushed my hand away, stroking her own pussy as if to reclaim it.

I felt regret, but I had no choice. I let her push my hand aside.

And after that day, I never saw her again.