Chapter 1 — The Neighbor's Husband

"Ah..."

I moan faintly, half-waking. David's hands are insistently teasing me.

He reaches out quietly, first caressing my breasts.

He gently cups one, then the other, squeezing them softly at first, then more firmly, as if wringing them out. Then he twists my nipples lightly between his fingers.

He alternates between both mounds, then suddenly grabs them both at once, pressing them together and lifting them, rubbing in slow circles.

I feel my nipples stiffen.

Mine are unusually large, and when erect, they harden like glass beads.

I love it most when he takes them into his mouth and bites them gently with his teeth.

As if reading my mind, he blows warm breath against my skin before pressing his lips to me.

Then, without hesitation, he bites—softly, rhythmically. Even half-asleep, a sharp thrill of pleasure shoots from my nipple straight into my chest.

"Haa..."

I arch my back. His persistent nipple play feels especially intense tonight.

As I arch and moan, he pulls my slip up and tugs my panties down.

He always does it the same way—first gripping the waistband with his hand, sliding it down to my thighs, then hooking it with his big toe to pull it all the way off.

But tonight is different. He rolls the panties down with his hands, all the way to my feet.

Not that I mind. I lift my hips slightly, shifting my legs to make it easier for him, eager for what comes next.

Once the panties are off, he presses his palm against my most intimate place, rubbing firmly.

Then, with his fingers, he parts my folds, checking how wet I am.

Whenever he touches me here, he always presses hard along the ridge from my pubic bone to my clit, rubbing fast—because he knows I'm sensitive there.

But tonight, strangely, he skips that entirely and moves straight toward penetration.

I feel a pang of disappointment, wishing he'd tease me a little longer, but I spread my legs anyway, ready for him.

I want to savor both the comfort of drowsy sleep and the pleasure of half-awake sex.

"Mmm..."

Reflexively, I wrap my arms around his back as he climbs over me.

I often use my hands on his back to guide the rhythm—when I pull him closer, he thrusts harder and faster; when I press down, he slows, grinding his pelvis against mine.

The feel of his back is exactly as I remember. David. My neighbor. My secret.

I jolt awake—not from shock, but from anticipation.

The room is dark, but I can see the silhouette of him, and I know exactly who it is.

David Kang. The man from next door.

I let out a soft breath, and his hard, erect cock slides slickly into my wet slit.

A familiar sensation now. Not my husband's—the one I've come to crave. David's. Different from what I know so well, the one I could draw from memory after years of intimacy. This is new. Exciting. And it's inside me now.

"David..."

I whisper, voice thick with want.

He pauses, pulls back slightly. "You awake?"

"Mmhm." I reach up, running my fingers through his hair. "Don't stop."

The bedside lamp flares on. He wants to see me, I realize.

In that instant, two smiles meet.

"That's better," he says, eyes traveling over me.

"David," I breathe, reaching for him.

He stares down at me, eyes bright with hunger.

I pull him back down to me, wrapping my legs around his hips.

"Come on," I urge. "We've been waiting for this all week."

He hesitates for just a second—then presses his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply.

I push back against him, returning the kiss with equal fervor.

"David," I gasp between kisses. "Please..."

He pulls back, studying my face. "God, you're beautiful like this."

"Shut up and fuck me," I whisper, and he laughs.

"Demanding." But he obliges, driving into me with a slow, deliberate thrust.

"Ah—" I cry out softly, clinging to his shoulders.

Our apartments are identical in layout.

He'd come over when his wife was away—David had mentioned she was visiting family for the weekend.

My husband is working late tonight.

I got a call last night—he said he couldn't come home because of month-end accounting.

And the front door was unlocked. I'd left it that way on purpose, knowing David would slip through once his wife was gone.

I'd made sure of it.

"David... David..."

I pant his name with each thrust, my voice muffled by his kisses.

David's wife's shocked face flashes in my mind.

So does my husband's bewildered expression.

And in the midst of it all, David has already resumed moving.

As I anticipated and welcomed... he's driven deeper, thrusting harder, more aggressively.

Yes. This is what I wanted.

I shake my head, but not in protest—I toss my hair back, meeting his gaze with heated eyes.

I kick my legs.

But he wraps one arm around my waist, slightly spreading my legs, pressing my thighs up—my movements match his rhythm.

My legs wrap around him, but the connection between us remains unbroken.

He grunts roughly, continuing his rhythm.

He has no intention of stopping until he's finished.

And now—he buries his face in my breasts again. As if to say: since we're doing this, we might as well do it all.

"Emma, since we're already here..." He lifts his head, murmuring against my skin. "Stop pretending you don't want this. You were ready for me the moment I walked in."

He's right. The moment I heard his key in the lock, I'd been wet with anticipation.

For me, it would be unbearable to stop now.

But going along with this—isn't that just what I've been craving?

Never mind him—how could I ever look at David without wanting him?

We've lived as neighbors, like one family...

And now... part of me knows...

It's already too late to undo what I wanted.

If we'd stopped before anything happened—maybe. But now? He's touched me everywhere. We're already joined.

Even if we stop now, this can't just be laughed off.

But still... I don't want to stop.

My mind is a mess. I can't think straight.

And yet, letting him do whatever he wants? That's exactly what I'm asking for.

This man—David—is shameless.

When he makes a move, shouldn't I pull him closer, beg for more, plead for him to never leave my bed?

Instead, he's acting like it's natural—like he's entitled to finish what he started.

I feel like I'm suffocating—in the best possible way.

Trapped in pleasure, unable to act—only surrender.

But first, I need to breathe.

So I stop kicking. I stop pushing. I go still.

If my mouth is freed, I can at least breathe—and maybe beg for more.

"Be quiet..." I manage. "The neighbors..."

He seems to sense my intent. He lifts his face from my breast and whispers again, firm and insistent.

I blink rapidly, nodding. A silent yes.

Finally, his lips leave mine. Air rushes into my lungs.

I feel like I can live again.

"David... what do you plan to do?"

I whisper, voice trembling.

Desperation grips my chest. I need more of this—somehow.

"What choice do I have? If I say I came to see you, who'd believe me? Not my wife. Not your husband. Right?"

"Still, this is—"

We whisper, but he never stops moving.

His heated cock is like a hot rod, pounding relentlessly against my subconscious, reigniting the embers of desire I thought had cooled.

"Look, I'd like to stop too. But if I do, it'll just be more ridiculous. I snuck over, started sex, then stopped? How pathetic would that look?"

He pauses, looking at me with those dark eyes.

"Better to... just treat it like a dream..."

"But... how will I ever face your wife again?"

"It's just a dream. This is a dream."

"You know better than anyone that it's not."

"What else can we do? Should I get up now and go home? Walk in and say,'Honey, I got drunk and went to Emma's house by mistake. I thought it was you, started having sex, realized my mistake, and ran back'? Should I confess and beg for forgiveness? Do you think she'd just laugh it off?"

"T-that..."

"And what would I tell your husband? Would he just chuckle and say,'Oh, no big deal'?"

"But... this is still—"

"Just stay quiet. It's already spilled milk."

"Ah... this isn't right... this is wrong..."

But even as I say it, I'm arching my back to take him deeper.

I have no idea what to do.

I could push him away, break free—but then Minji might wake up. And what happens after that? I don't even want to imagine.

But just... giving in? That's exactly what I'm doing.

We didn't fall in love. We didn't even have feelings.

This is just a shocking, unimaginable secret—and yet, it's happening.

And yet, David shows no sign of stopping.

If I don't cooperate, he'll force it through anyway.

His tone carries a quiet demand—especially when he brings up his wife and my husband.

Of course, he can't tell them first. That's not the point.

He's trying to make me understand—we're in this together.

If I stay quiet, this can all be buried. Forgotten.

That's why he's determined to see it through.

Otherwise, he'll look like a fool.

Especially in front of me—he'd be too embarrassed.

Maybe he thinks if he finishes, he can face me more confidently. Men are like that...

But in the midst of this chaos, as I struggle to think clearly...

My body is slowly accepting him.

Without even knowing who he is... my body is opening, like Pandora's box, releasing hidden pleasure.

The simplicity of the flesh...!!!

I'm responding.

My body is heating up—maybe because I thought it was my husband, already open and ready—and now, it's undoing the buttons of pleasure one by one.

I'm shocked at myself.

They say sex can happen without love...

Is this what they mean?

Even though I know it might be wrong, I can't resist the temptation my own body has embraced.

Ah... I'm so confused...

"Lift your legs."

David reaches down.

He grips both sides of my hips. Instinctively, my legs rise.

Then he lifts them higher—until he rests them over his shoulders.

Now our pelvises press tightly together. A deep, complete penetration—no space left.

I curl my body, my legs bent like a bow.

I feel ashamed. This position...

I'm spread so wide for a man who isn't my husband.

This isn't a position a resisting woman would take.

It's one that seeks deep connection—full surrender.

I don't know what's happening to me.

I know I shouldn't, but I'm following his lead.

But... what else can I do?

The water is already spilled.

By the time I realized, it was too late.

I'm exhausted, trying to control my heated body.

Part of me wants this to end—wants to wake up tomorrow and forget it all, like a dream.

But another part... burns.

And now... he's moving toward my lips.

He wants to kiss.

I shake my head. I don't want this.

But he grabs my face with his hand—and forces his lips onto mine.

I clamp my mouth shut, shaking my head, but his tongue pushes in, parting my lips.

A stale, sour breath—alcohol, sharp and sour. Mixed with the smell of nicotine.

He doesn't care. He keeps forcing his tongue in.

Then, suddenly, he tries to tangle his tongue with mine. I resist.

But I'm overwhelmed—then, with a sudden suction, like he's trying to pull out my tongue, I'm captured.

"Ugh... mmm..."

It hurts. It feels like my tongue is being sucked out.

But strangely... the harder he sucks, the dizzier I feel.

My vision darkens, floats. And suddenly, my pelvis tingles.

Without thinking, my hips jerk upward.

His rhythm quickens. Our pelvises crash together.

A squelching sound—like running through mud. My face burns. I'm ashamed.

That sound...

Isn't it proof I'm wet?

Proof I've already secreted enough fluid?... Ah... how humiliating...

And yet, in this shame... I grow hotter.

My chest feels sealed shut by a hard lid.

If that lid opens, I'll erupt like a geyser.

That desperate feeling grips me. No... no...

"Ah... mmm..."

Finally... I open the lid myself.

The moan I gasp through parted lips... is the lid flying into the air.

I surrender to the pressure of pleasure, defeated.

"Huh... nggh..."

I pant, moaning uncontrollably.

Once opened, the sounds keep spilling from my mouth.

And finally, I charge toward the approaching wave of ecstasy.

The more I moan, the closer the pleasure comes—growing, swelling. I feel dizzy.

When did it happen? My arms are wrapped around his back.

My hips and ass are bouncing in rhythm with his fast, rough thrusts.

He's released my lips, lowered his head, and is sucking my breasts again.

He never stops... David's lips never rest.

He sucks my nipple hard—so hard it feels like it might tear off.

A sharp current shoots from my nipple, racing up and down my spine.

He moves like he knows exactly where my weakness is.

He sucks hard, twists, flicks with his tongue, teases. I feel like I'm dying.

"Haa... ugh... mmm..."

I throw myself deeper into oblivion. My mind has let go of reason. Only emotion remains.

The chaotic river of desire whips through my subconscious.

Hearing my own cries excites me even more.

So this is how the body heats up—even without love...

The thought flashes through my mind. But only for a second.

I'm lost in pleasure, flailing.

"Emma, you're so hot..."

David snaps me back.

For a moment, I'm clearheaded. But...

Only for a moment.

His shamelessness shames me—and somehow, that shame only makes me hotter. A contradiction. Women are full of paradox.

"Huh... ghh... ugh... augh..."

I thrash. No—convulse.

I can't control myself anymore.

How can I stop this body, burning so hot it feels like it might turn to steam?

How can I bear this boiling, bubbling heat?

"Amazing. Good. Let's go all the way—no holding back..."

He sounds like he's enjoying this.

He's close to climax, yet he holds back, teasing. Where does he get this confidence?

"Just a second... turn over..."

He suddenly stops, grabs my waist, and flips me over.

Why am I... obeying him?

For a brief moment, his cock slips out.

A pang of loss hits my chest.

I quickly turn, lifting my hips high.

Hurry...

David... fill me... quickly...

"Your hips are gorgeous. Like a full moon."

He grips my ass and speaks. Then—

A hot, hard pillar thrusts into me from behind. A deep, full sensation...

This moment—this is a woman's happiness. A man smoothly entering her wet heat...

That man is the source of pleasure...

"Here... I'm attacking."

He slams into my ass. The muddy sound returns...

A sharp thrill runs through my body. I feel like I'm going crazy.

I want to scream so loud the apartment collapses—but I hold back.

I push my hips back hard. Deeper penetration.

I want to feel even closer...

"Oh... ugh... ahh... ughhh..."

The rougher he gets, the rougher I become.

Sweat drips from my forehead. Sweat runs down my chest.

Face buried in the pillow, I claw at my own breasts.

Twisting my nipples... writhing my hips.

Ah... I want to die like this...

David is definitely a playboy.

That shamelessness, that technique... He's either a Casanova, a Don Juan, or a legendary lover.

Does he do this with his wife every night?

For a second, I see her—crying out at climax, close-up...

He kneels behind me, attacking without restraint.

His hands on my hips are hot.

The strength with which he grips my flesh—like he's tearing it. The power of his thrusts...

I just want to collapse, completely undone.

My limp body is breaking apart into pleasure. I'm dizzy.

"Phew... incredible..."

He's talkative. Always adding a comment.

Yet he never stops attacking.

Why do I feel like I've been doing this with David for years?

"Here... now you..."

He uses the word "you."

Women are sensitive to that.

From "Emma" to "you"—that's his confidence.

His sense of superiority. He's conquered me, broken me, made me submit.

For a moment, I feel my pride crushed. But what can I do?

He lies flat on the bed, takes my hand, and guides me.

Like I'm hypnotized, I climb onto his stomach. Then...

I place my wet folds over his cock—and sink down myself. The tight pleasure of penetration...

I lower my head, peeking at his cock buried deep inside me.

"Move."

He urges me. But I'm tired.

I don't have the energy to move as wildly as he did. And moving on my own—somehow, it feels degrading.

He attacks from below. The bed creaks.

Sweat beads on his forehead too, as he powerfully thrusts upward.

I move slowly. Feeling the fullness of his deep penetration... moving back and forth slowly, but pressing firmly.

Then, finally, overcome by my own passion, I start moving faster. My breathing grows ragged.

I can't breathe. But I can't stop.

A rainbow flickers in front of my eyes—so close. I have to grab it.

And soar thousands of feet into the sky...

I bend forward, exhausted.

Then he grabs my breasts roughly. Pulls my upper body up—and takes a nipple into his mouth.

Again... a shock. A spark of electricity flashes from my nipple.

I feel like I'm dying.

My body trembles, as if electrocuted.

Just a little more... just a little more... ah...

Suddenly, he sits up, wrapping his arms around my waist.

The position shifts naturally. I'm now sitting on him, embraced.

I raise my arms, wrapping them around his neck. It's easier now. Less tiring.

Using his neck as leverage, I bounce my hips.

He matches my rhythm, lifting his hips to meet mine.

Squelch, squelch...

The sound of slipping through mud.

So... good...

Like this, for a long time, I'm drunk on the ecstasy, lost in bliss.

Finally, the rainbow bursts brightly before my eyes—and I reach for it.

Here it comes!

But the moment I grab it...

I dissolve into smoke, vanishing into the air.

"Ah... oh! Oh! What do I do... I... I... ugh... catch me... someone... oh no, oh no..."

I struggle to hold onto myself, afraid of disappearing completely.

I'm terrified—if I vanish like smoke, I'll die.

"Good... yes... I feel it..."

He thrusts even harder.

I slam my hips down, crushing him. Suddenly—

My vision whites out... I black out... falling into endless silence.

A ringing in my ears. My head... numb.

My body... trembles on its own.

At the same time...

I feel a deep release within my core.

A tremor, like my insides are spilling out. Again, I shiver. For a moment, I stiffen like a corpse—my head snaps back, mouth gaping open.

Then... another hot surge inside me. His release. My womb burns. He's poured fire into me.

Shiver... then another... followed by stiffness.

"Ugh... ugh..."

I collapse onto his shoulder, dazed.

I fall deep, deep into an empty void of unconsciousness.

My mind feels hollow...

"Phew..."

He exhales a deep breath against my ear. Hot, like a warm blanket.

"That was intense... wow... incredible..."

He murmurs, almost to himself.

"Do you always burn this hot? Your husband must be so lucky..."

I don't want to say anything. I pretend I didn't hear.

"This too... is truly impressive..."

He reaches down, gently stroking my still-connected core.

I want to pull away, but I don't have the strength. I just let it happen.

"Come here. Let me clean you."

He reaches for toilet paper, pulls some out. He lifts me slightly, lays me back on the bed.

Then he reaches between my legs, wiping the soaked wetness away.

"Now... what do we do?"

I whisper, almost to myself.

The ecstasy has passed—now something else returns.

"What do you mean? Dreams vanish by morning. Don't worry. Understand?"

"How can I face your wife's face?"

"Such a worry... I told you, don't. We didn't do anything. Nothing happened."

He's calm. His expression, his tone—like nothing ever happened.

"Really... nothing happened?"

"Of course. Nothing happened."

"I'll believe you..."

I have no choice. I don't want to destroy my family. If this gets out, I'll die.

"If... anything happens... I'll die. You understand?"

"Trust me..."

He twists my still-hard nipple lightly, speaking firmly.

"I understand... now go... I'm... sleepy..."

I say, eyes closed.

"Alright... I'll go now... sleep well..."

He gets up. Pauses for a moment—then suddenly leans down and kisses my core. Then stands again.

The sound of clothes being put on... silence... then quiet footsteps leaving the room.

The front door opens softly. Closes.

I consider getting up to lock it—but the weight of sleep pulls me under, and I drift into darkness.