Chapter 3 — The Neighbor Housewife Who Ejaculated — 1 (3)

I was flipping through channels, bored—nothing good on TV—when someone rang the doorbell. Who could it be at this hour? I wasn't expecting anyone.

Peering through the peephole, I saw the woman from Unit 103. I glanced at the clock—10:40 PM.

I opened the door. She stood there holding a jar of homemade fruit liquor, a pretty dish of sliced fruit in her other hand.

(Ah! Now I remember—earlier today she asked me what time I usually go to bed. I told her I don't sleep until after midnight.

So she probably figured I'd still be awake. That's why she came.)

She said it was her own brew and insisted we share a drink. Her kids were asleep, she added.

I quickly cleared a space, set out glasses, then stepped into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror.

I'm not sure why, but suddenly I wanted to look good—without even realizing it.

Hair neat? Check. Skin clear? Check. No chili flakes stuck in my teeth? Good. Heh, not bad. Haha.

Back in the room, we sat across from each other, pouring drinks, clinking glasses. One sip turned into two, then more. We talked about our lives like old friends catching up after years apart—easy, relaxed, natural.

As the alcohol kicked in, she started looking beautiful. I was turning into a wolf.

She wasn't handling the liquor well—her face flushed deep red. Watching her, my pathetic cock slowly lifted its head, stiffening beneath my pants.

I wasn't even wearing underwear. If it stood up fully, it'd be obvious. Maybe I should pretend not to notice, stand up, walk around—let it show naturally? I actually considered it.

The more I drank, the less I heard her words. All I saw were her lips.

"By the way… I'm Claire Kim. And you?"

"Just call me by my name. I'm Yujung's mom."

"C'mon… I'd like to call you by your name. Heh…"

"Well… it's kind of embarrassing. My name's… Ok-soon… Claire Kim…"

"What's embarrassing about that? It's cute. Haha."

Honestly, it was kind of corny. I couldn't say she had a pretty name, so I said cute instead. Haha.

"So, Claire, how old are you? I'm 38."

"Ah! So you're older than me. I'm 33. Hehehe."

The woman who'd been crying earlier was gone. Now, sitting in front of me, was a flushed, flirtatious woman oozing sex appeal, speaking with a touch of childish charm.

Honestly, I wanted to pounce on her right then.

Her husband had left her for another woman. The kids were asleep. We were alone. Wasn't this the perfect chance?

And she came here late at night with alcohol—didn't that mean she wanted this too?

I was writing my own fantasy in my head.

Then, Claire said she needed to use the bathroom and got up.

Left alone, I stared at her glass and thought, If I had a sedative or a truth serum… I'd drop it right in.

A few minutes later, I heard the toilet flush. Then the bathroom door opened and she came out.

I couldn't look her in the eye—felt caught, like I'd been caught staring. I pretended to watch the TV, but every nerve in my body was tuned to her.

Then—I froze.

She walked behind me and wrapped her arms around my back.

"David~~ I'm so tired… sob sob sob…"

I reached behind me, gently stroked her cheek, and wiped her tears with my bare hand.

"Cheer up. I'll do anything I can for you."

Without thinking, I slipped into informal speech—and she didn't mind. It felt natural.

"Please… hold me…"

The moment I heard that, my half-limp cock surged back to full hardness.

I turned my head and kissed her. My tongue slipped softly between her lips.

She responded like a starving lioness—sucking my tongue like it was the head of a cock, slurping, sucking, devouring.

Turned on by the sound, I spun around, pulled her onto the bed, and laid her down.

No words. Just bodies talking.

We kissed on the bed—more than five minutes—just lips, tongues, breath. My cock was about to burst. I touched her pussy—already soaked. Wetness seeped through her clothes.

We were both at the peak of arousal—no time for foreplay. Eyes wild, we tore at each other's clothes.

I pulled off her thin green T-shirt. Underneath: a pink lace bra with a front clasp.

I fumbled behind her back, clueless. She giggled, unhooked it herself.

I smiled back, embarrassed but playing it cool. I slid off her loose pajama pants—she wore sheer mesh panties.

I thought to myself, So this was planned. Hahaha.

A strange sense of victory surged through me. I yanked the panties off, admired her naked body, then stripped my own clothes off in record time.

Any guy would understand—how fast a man can undress in that situation.

Still, she was a housewife. Maybe this was her first time with another man. Once naked, she grew shy.

"Turn off the light," she said.

I ignored her. My mind was racing—just get inside, now. Hands, feet, head, eyes—everything was frantic.

Her skin was pale—no, porcelain-white. Her breasts were between a B and C cup. The nipples were a dark brown, almost black, glistening.

Her pubic hair was thick, spreading past her outer lips. When I spread her legs, her pussy looked a little unusual.

The opening was slightly open, and something—folds of flesh?—seemed to block the entrance.

Juices poured out—drip, drip, drip—so much it was hard to describe. Clear, abundant, flowing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I wasn't in the mood for teasing. I rubbed her pussy a few times with my hand, then guided my cock to her entrance, pressing the tip inside.

"Ah… David… slowly… please…" (I wanted it fast. I wanted to cum deep inside her now.)

But I listened. I pushed in slowly, gently. After about ten thrusts, Claire suddenly pushed against my stomach.

"Haaah… David… wait… just a second…"

She stopped my rhythm. I felt sudden heat deep inside her pussy. What was this?

Then—liquid gushing between my cock and her walls.

I thought it was menstrual blood.

I looked down—no blood. Just clear, watery fluid gushing out from around my cock, still buried inside her.

Did she cum already? So soon?

A moment later, she said, "It's okay. David, keep going."

Anyone who's felt a woman's hot cum on their cock knows—there's nothing better.

I started thrusting hard again. Less than five minutes later, I came.

It wasn't just "amazing." That word wasn't enough. "Mind-blowing"? Still not enough. I'd rather die like this. That's how good it was.

I collapsed beside her, spent.

Drunkenness and post-orgasmic fatigue washed over me—just as she reached for my cock and started sucking.

Without cleaning it—still covered in my cum and her pussy juice.

"We did just meet tonight, right? Haha."

She treated me like a long-time lover—natural, tender, loving.

My cock had gone limp after cumming, but her mouth brought it back to full hardness.

She sucked every drop clean. Her pussy was still a river—the sheets were soaked.

We were both too turned on to care. I laid her back down, eager to taste every inch of her.

First, I dove into her lips—still glistening with my cum—kissing like we were born to be one. Then, I slid my right hand into her pussy while sucking her breast, gently biting her nipple.

At the same time, her pussy clenched around my fingers—twitch, squeeze, torture. (Ah… her nipple's a sensitive spot. And her pussy suction? Insane. Haha.)

When I bit harder, her pussy spasmed—twitch… stretch… spurt…

Bite—twitch. Release—spurt.

It was fun. The way her walls gripped my fingers? Fucking incredible.

"Ahinnn~~ David… I… can't… do… anything… haaah…"

I moved down, pressed my mouth to her pussy. It smelled faintly of concrete and fish—yet sweet, salty. I was dizzy with pleasure.

I licked her clit, sucked it, then plunged my tongue deep into her flooded entrance.

The inner folds of her pussy wrapped around my tongue, playing tug-of-war.

I savored the sensation—then focused back on her clit, chewing it gently with her teeth.

She tried to push my head away with both hands.

I resisted, holding firm, tormenting her clit—when suddenly—

"AAAAAAH… David… I can't… I don't know…!"

She started peeing all over my face.

I almost flinched—but it was already in my mouth. I took it full in the face.

But it wasn't pee.

No stink. Not salty. Colorless, tasteless, odorless.

To be honest—maybe slightly salty, a bit fishy. But scorching hot. And the amount? Insane.

I'd only heard of squirting. Seen it in porn. Never thought a woman could do it. She'd already spilled a bowl earlier—now it's like a bucket. Haha.

The bed was soaked—puddles forming in the sheets.

I quickly shoved my cock back inside her. The slurping sounds from her pussy pushed me over the edge again—another orgasm, fast.

It felt so good—my cock had almost come just from her juices hitting my face.

My cock still buried in her, I collapsed on top of her.

Was I drunk and dreaming? Dreaming while drinking? Half-awake, lost in ecstasy—long live sex.

I passed out on her body.

A little while later, I woke up. She hadn't moved—afraid I'd wake up. I'd been asleep for about ten minutes.

Her kindness, her gentleness, her beauty—deep down, I was truly grateful.

The wet bed had cooled, now chilly.

We got up and walked together into the bathroom to wash up.