Chapter 1 — True Story: An Unforgettable Memory on the Gyeongui Line Train

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.

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I'm writing this from a distance now, looking back at what happened before I got together with my wife.

My wife is 172 cm tall, with a 25-inch waist, small chest, and full hips—a striking figure.

It was five autumns ago. She and I were heading from her place to catch the train, getting dressed as we went.

“What should I wear?”

“Hmm… let’s go with that yellow sheer panties I bought the other day, and a white pleated skirt over them.”

“What if someone sees the panty line?”

“So what if they do?”

“That’d be embarrassing…”

“Just try it once.”

She took off her plain white cotton panties and slipped on the yellow sheer ones. Her pubic hair was gathered in the front, looking incredibly cute.

Finally, she put on the white pleated skirt—her first time wearing it since buying it.

Excitement stirred within me. We finally reached Sinchon Station.

The wind blew, making her white mini-skirt flutter gently. I imagined the yellow panties beneath and felt a rush of pleasure.

It was a weekday, so the platform wasn’t crowded. After passing Unjeong Station, there were barely any passengers left.

I've always found secret acts in public transportation incredibly arousing.

Back when I was twenty, on an express bus from Yeonsu-dong, Incheon to Seoul Station, I vividly remember how my fingers had a delightful time with a girl I was dating back then, right in the seat just before the very last one.

After passing Unjeong, Tanhyeon, and Geumchon, only four people remained in our car.

We were sitting across from each other, and I asked her to show me.

She refused at first, insisting it wasn’t right. But after pleading, she finally lifted her skirt—only for a male attendant to walk by, forcing her to quickly lower it again. (Since we were facing each other, both sides could be watched.)

After more persuasion—I had to beg hard—she finally agreed again. (She was quite conservative; before meeting me, she'd only ever worn tiny cotton panties.)

She slowly lifted her skirt once more, and when I asked her to pull the sheer fabric to the side, she did.

Seeing her pubic hair made me feel like I was losing my mind. I crouched down in the middle of the seat and lightly touched her, but she pulled away—said my hands weren’t clean.

Still, I insisted and touched her anyway. With no arousal fluid, it hurt her badly, and just as I was pushing further, we arrived at our final stop: Munsan.

We handed in our tickets and checked the schedule—turns out the train we came on was the last one?

Perfect, I thought. We wandered around the area, grabbed coffee, then headed back to Munsan Station to catch the final train.

We quietly waited for that same train. When it arrived, about fifteen people boarded our car, but after Geumchon and Unjeong, only two couples remained.

I pretended to go to the restroom, checking both adjacent cars—each had three or four people. Then, suddenly, disaster struck: a family of four got on our car.

I hated them with every fiber of my being.

But luckily, they got off soon. Only the other couple and us remained. Kukuku.

The Gyeongui Line's new train model has a similar layout: side-facing seats at the front, face-to-face in the middle, and side-facing again at the rear. So the other couple and we ended up seated directly opposite each other at extreme ends.

Somewhere around Hanggongdae, I made my move.

Because she had makeup on, I couldn't kiss her, so I started touching her breasts instead. I brushed past the soft texture of her nude bra and slipped my hand underneath.

How warm she was.

Boldly, I took her nipple into my mouth. I nibbled it slowly, then bit harder. She couldn't make a sound because of the train—had to suppress everything—and that silence made her even sexier.

My hand crept lower, brushing against the rough, yellow sheer fabric.

Slipping under the skirt, my fingers met her soft, bushy curls.

Going deeper, I touched her clitoris—but she suddenly clenched her legs shut, saying it was too dangerous, someone might come.

So I boldly crouched in front of her and began attacking her chest with my tongue.

After sucking harder, I pulled her panties down completely and stuffed them into my pocket. I tried to insert myself, unzipping my pants, but she stopped me.

I knew opportunities like this wouldn't come again, so I unzipped anyway, pulled out my cock, and demanded she suck it.

Of course, she refused. I got angry and insisted.

After a few reluctant sucks, I couldn't hold back anymore and attempted penetration. But without enough lubrication, it was difficult—so I spat heavily onto myself and pushed in.

At that moment, I lacked nothing in the world.

She sat on the very edge of the seat, legs spread wide. I knelt on the floor, slowly beginning a piston-like motion.

Given the situation, after about twenty thrusts, I exploded.

She clenched tightly throughout, and I quickly returned her panties.

Her pussy, squeezed shut, wrapped in yellow sheer lace—so damn sexy.

She said her lower half felt cold, and not long after, we arrived at Sinchon Station.

We went to the public restroom in front of Sinchon Station to clean up the semen.

I told her to take off the panties, but she knew that would cause real trouble… ^^

She whined that the re-worn panties felt icy, wiping the semen as best she could.

But for me, that day became a lifelong, blissful memory.