Chapter 1 — The Married Woman's Crisis - Part 1 (1)

"Don't do this… What are you doing? I'm a married woman."

The woman pleads in a voice nearly rising to a scream.

Her large, striking eyes, straight short hair falling just below her ears, a light sky-blue jacket over a cream blouse, and long, pale legs exposed beneath a black skirt—every detail draws admiration. Her flawless figure aside, the noble aura radiating from her face is more than enough to capture any man's attention.

Opposite her, a man sits naked on a chair, staring. Or rather, only a small triangle of underwear barely covers his manhood.

An uneasy tension lingers between this beautiful woman in her early thirties and the naked man.

In what appears to be a hotel room, the two face each other, locked in a silent standoff. A faint tension fills the air. Neither looks away.

The woman sits stiffly on the sofa, paralyzed by fear.

She clutches her white coat tightly in her lap with both hands.

On the table between them rests a black handbag—presumably hers.

The naked man rises from the sofa and approaches her.

He looks to be in his late twenties, with a solid, well-built frame. His sharply defined chest leads down to a lean, muscular abdomen, not a trace of fat. Thick thighs frame a massive, erect penis, lifting the front of his underwear skyward—an unmistakable display of lust aimed straight at her.

"Don't come near me. Please, stop."

A small but desperate cry escapes her lips.

Her mind races, trying to assess whether she can escape this situation.

But as she hesitates, the man draws closer, leaving her with no choice. Fear deepens in her eyes.

"Stay away."

Terrified, she jumps from the sofa and turns toward the door. But before the beautiful woman can take more than a few steps, the man's hand grabs her arm.

"Heh heh. Thinking of leaving without apologizing? Isn't that why you came here?"

She turns her head to look at him, still trembling, her face frozen in fear.

According to the man, the woman injured in the accident was a famous model, now unable to work due to her injuries.

As her manager and sponsor, he claims the financial losses from her inability to work must be compensated—by her.

Sarah had braced herself to pay some compensation. But the amount he demanded was absurdly high.

Her name is Sarah Im. Born into a wealthy family with no need to envy anyone, she graduated from a prestigious university, married an elite husband, and is now a housewife in her third year of marriage.

Since high school, her exceptional beauty had drawn admiration from boys at neighboring schools. But due to her strict upbringing, she had always rejected their advances.

In short, she had never been close to any man besides her husband. And now, for the first time in her life, she stands face to face with a naked stranger.

She came here today to apologize and offer compensation for a car accident she caused days earlier.

A few days ago, she collided with a taxi. The female passenger in the front seat had suffered facial bruising and a neck fracture. Sarah had paid the hospital bills and given her contact information.

Then today, a call came from that woman—leading her here. But instead of the victim, a naked man awaited her.

"Heh heh. No need to be so scared."

His strong hand grips her forearm, pulling her closer. Sarah can't move.

"Where's the model? What's going on?"

The man’s grip is so tight it hurts.

"Let go! What are you doing?"

"If you don't try to run, I won't have to be rough."

With brute strength, he drags her back to the sofa. Sarah has no choice but to sit. The dragon tattoo coiled around his forearm makes him look like a gangster straight out of a TV drama.

"Sit here. Let's talk this through calmly."

"How much do you want? The amount you're asking is ridiculous."

Her voice trembles, but she's trying her hardest to sound brave.

The man doesn't answer. Instead, he stands from the sofa, brings his hands to his tiny underwear, and begins swaying his hips slowly—like a stripper in a club—gradually pulling the fabric down.

"What are you doing? Stop it!"

Another scream bursts from Sarah's lips. She can't bear to look and turns her eyes away.

"Heh heh. Acting like a virgin."

"Just let me leave."

Her voice is heavy with despair.

"The woman who came to apologize wants to leave without apologizing? Is that it?"

Sarah, facing a situation she's never experienced before, feels tears welling in her eyes.

"Heh heh. A woman over thirty crying like a child? You need to fix this somehow."

The man approaches, placing his hand on her shoulder. She flinches violently, her body trembling.

Tears gathered in her large eyes spill down her pale cheeks.

She screams inside to run—but her body won't obey.

"Give me the coat. Be a good girl."

He yanks the coat she's clutching to her chest, snatching it away and tossing it to the floor.

She shuts her eyes in terror, curling into herself. The man leans close, his hot breath brushing her ear.

"What are you doing?"

Desperately breaking free, Sarah scrambles toward the corner of the room.

Only then does she realize in despair—she's run to the opposite end from the door.

"The model can't work anymore. The damage I've suffered is fifty million won. Should I just bill your husband?"

The man advances step by step, his face dark. His underwear hangs halfway down, revealing thick, dark pubic hair.

"Stay back! I'll call the police!"

The man ignores her, closing the distance until he stands directly in front of her.

"Heh heh. Can't you take my underwear off with your own hands?"

"No! Get away! Stop!"

Head lowered, Sarah stretches out both hands, pushing against his chest to keep him back. The man grabs her wrist and twists it sharply.

"It hurts! Let go!"

She screams in terror as he wrenches her arm.

"I can't! I'm married!"

She looks up at him, eyes pleading, whispering desperately.

"Heh heh. You've been saying that since you got here. I don't want to have sex with you."

His words bring her a sliver of relief.

But then he twists her arm again. She tries to pull free, using her other hand to push him—but he grabs her other wrist and twists it too.

"Ah! It hurts! Let go of me!"

"Heh heh. So you should listen carefully."

His strength is overwhelming—Sarah can't resist. He guides her hands to his waist.

"Use these pretty hands to pull down my underwear yourself."

"Are you crazy?"

Head down, she shakes her head violently. Her short bob swings beautifully with the motion.

Her hands, guided by his force, slide across his waist and reach the sides of his underwear.

"Hurry up. Pull it down."

"Let me go! Please! I'll give you money!"

"Heh heh… You'll give me fifty million won?"

Again, he demands an impossible sum.

Ten million won—maybe she could manage that without her husband knowing. But fifty million?

She considers asking her parents, but her strict family would never hand over such a sum without reason—and they'd definitely tell her husband.

Sarah knows her husband is conservative, even violent. If he found out she'd caused such a serious accident, he'd beat her without hesitation.

"If you just listen to me, I won't need any compensation money."

At his words, Sarah lifts her head and looks up at him.

"Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to cause the accident."

"Exactly. So just listen to me. Be a good girl."

She tries to appeal to his mercy. The man gently strokes her soft hair.

Even though his hands have let go, her own remain frozen at the sides of his underwear. The intense tension has paralyzed her.

"Hurry up and pull it down. Now."

Sarah bites her lower lip, glances at his face one last time, then lowers her gaze. Her hands grasp the edges of his underwear and slowly pull them down.

Thick, dark pubic hair is revealed. Then, a massive, erect penis rises stiffly before her eyes.

She turns her head away in shock.

She's seen boys' genitals as a child, but aside from her husband, she's never seen another man's. This man's cock is nothing short of shocking.

Her heart pounds violently. Her face burns.

"Don't look away. Look right here. Or else, pay the compensation."

The word compensation is a weapon—one that strips her of resistance. Sarah reluctantly turns her face forward.

Her eyes are closed. Her long lashes tremble with the quivering of her eyelids.

"Open your eyes. Look straight. Now."

No matter how hard she tries, her eyes won't open.

After a long struggle, Sarah finally forces them open.

His underwear rests around the thick muscles of her thighs. Her hands still grip the fabric, pressed against his thigh. Between those powerful legs, his cock—thick as a banana, curving to the left—stands erect. The dark red glans looks like some grotesque monster.

She nearly screams—but swallows it, afraid of angering him.

It's like the feeling she gets seeing a rat or a cockroach.

Goosebumps cover her body. Her hair stands on end.

She's never seen her husband's penis in bright light like this.

Thick veins bulge along the shaft, twitching occasionally as if alive.

"Well? How does it compare to your husband's?"

His voice buzzes in her ears, the meaning barely registering.

Sarah is still in deep shock.

"Touch it. Compare for yourself."

At his command, her right hand lifts from his thigh and wraps around his raging cock.

Heat surges through her palm. She jerks her hand away in shock.

She can't believe she just touched another man's penis.

Even though he ordered her, it felt like she was under a spell—only realizing what she'd done after his cock was already in her hand.

"What are you doing? Grab it again."

His voice is low, but heavy with authority. Terrified, her small hand trembles as it reaches back and grasps his erect shaft.

The cock in her hand pulses, as if alive, throbbing against her palm.

A single drop of clear fluid beads at the slit of the glans.

His cock is so thick that her one hand can barely cover half of it.

"Now use your other hand. Touch here."

He points with his fingertip to his testicles, hanging slightly beneath his cock.

Dark, almost black, they resemble dried persimmons—aged and wrinkled.

Sarah realizes the only way out is to comply with his demands as quickly as possible and escape.

She reaches her other hand between his legs and gently grasps his testicles.

Inside the soft, thin skin, two round orbs shift gently.

"Hmm… That feels good. Now put it in your mouth. Suck it."

She blinks, confused, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"You don't know fellatio? Fellatio…"

Her face turns completely red—no patch of skin left untouched by blush.

Her husband once asked her to do it, but she couldn't bring herself to.

Eventually, under his pressure, she tried—but the moment his cock entered her mouth, she gagged and ran to the bathroom.

After that, her husband never asked again.

And now this man wants her to do it.

"No! I can't! I'm a married woman!"

"I know. How many times have you said that? I'm not asking you for sex.

See, I've always had a fantasy—receiving fellatio from a woman like you. A proper, modest, married woman.

Fifty million won is a steep price for that fantasy… but not too steep."

Sarah's eyes waver. A transparent film of tears forms in her gaze.

"Please… not this…"

A single tear rolls down her pale cheek.

"Crying won't solve anything. Just close your eyes. Three minutes, and it's over. Three minutes of endurance, and the fifty million won disappears."

Like a demon, he whispers temptation into her ear.

"Really? That's all? Just this?"

"Heh heh. Have you been living in a lie all this time? Then hurry up and finish it."

Sarah shuts her eyes tightly and leans forward. She feels like she's moving, but the man's cock doesn't touch her.

"What are you doing? Don't you have to get home before your husband comes?"

She thought she was moving—but fear and tension have frozen her in place.

His words make her anxious. If she doesn't return before her husband arrives, he'll suspect something.

And if he finds out about today, she'll be exposed. She'll be divorced.

One wild thought chases the next, spiraling through her mind, paralyzing her reason.

Sarah opens her eyes and looks at the man's cock—throbbing in her hand.

Maybe she's getting used to it. It doesn't seem as grotesque as before.

Above her pale cheeks, her mascara has smudged faintly.