“Hnngh, ngh, ah, aah, ah…!”
The man firmly gripped Son Yowan’s waist then released it. Redder handprints were left on his heated flesh. The man matched his fingers to the fading handprints and applied pressure again. Son Yowan pressed his forehead firmly against the sheets and panted.
“Ahhh…!”
Looking at the handprints left on his skin, it should clearly hurt, but not even as an empty compliment did the sounds Son Yowan made resemble groans of pain. His wide-open eyes were filled not with pain but with pleasure.
What is this…!
Son Yowan thought as the pleasure that had rushed up to the crown of his head slowly descended below his neck. It hurt. It really hurt, but…
“Son Yowan-ssi, does it hurt?”
It hurts, it does hurt. It hurts.
“You don’t need to answer…”
The fingers withdrew and something much thicker than them touched the entrance. That thick, hard thing rubbed against the heated entrance briefly before finally pushing inside.
Thud!
“Hngh!”
At the sensation of being pushed all the way in at once, Son Yowan swallowed his breath while curling his body, then made a high-pitched sound the next moment while straightening his fingers.
“This kind of thing.”
The man who had inserted his member to the root bit Son Yowan’s back, then murmured with his lips still against that flesh.
“I know you like this…”
“This shi—!”
Son Yowan didn’t know what he was trying to say. Actually, he didn’t have the mental capacity to think.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
His partner, supporting Son Yowan’s stomach, began moving roughly. The loud sound of wet flesh colliding stuck to his ears. His partner was rude, fierce, and messy. Damn it, they said he was The Godfather’s dog, and even a real dog would probably be more gentlemanly than this man. The man acted as if he didn’t know anything about moving shallowly, gently, or softly. Each time he moved, he pulled out almost to the tip then thrust to the root in one go while shaking his hips, and while doing so, he didn’t release the arm supporting his stomach, so Son Yowan had to receive the man as if trapped in a narrow gap.
Thwack! Thwack! Thud!
As the hard, long member (Crazy, why is it so big and long when he probably won’t even use it much while living alone!) dug through Son Yowan’s inner walls, the man’s hands wrung Son Yowan’s waist again.
“Ahhh! Ah!”
Son Yowan wanted to curse, but all that came out were moans of pleasure. Right, moans of pleasure! Moans that anyone could hear sounded like he was dying of pleasure!
Do I really like this kind of thing?
Son Yowan felt like he’d seen a flying saucer suddenly fall on his house roof one day, and an alien came out from it, spread both arms toward him, and said, “Actually, you’re an alien!”
“Ahhh! Ah, aah! Ahh!”
That last sound was “Agh!” right? It was “Agh!” from pain.
“Hnngh, hngh, hngh!”
There’s no way I’m an ali— no wait, there’s no way I like this kind of sex…!
Thud!
“Ah! Good, hnngh, ah, ah, good…!”
Ah, damn it.
“Good… that, there, that, more, Cap-, Captain So…”
“So, Yeowon.”
Son Yowan admitted it with tears of various meanings welling up.
“…is, Son Yowan-ssi.”
“So, Yeowon, ssi. Yeowon-ssi. Just now, there, more, harder, ah…!”
I like this kind of thing, goddammit.
And at the same time, he realized.
Thwack! Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Mmgh, mmmgh, ah, ahhhngh…!”
We really would’ve broken the chair if we’d done it there.
***
At first, he thought:
After getting one satisfying round out and this bastard passes out, I should check the radios.
…Or so.
But when he thought back carefully, there were few things in Son Yowan’s life that went according to his wishes.
Well, that was right. If things in the world had gone the way he wanted—damn it, he didn’t know how many times he’d said this, but probably starting with Chairman Son, he wouldn’t be of this world.
Of 1000 things in the world, 999 didn’t go according to Son Yowan’s wishes, and even at this moment Chairman Son was a wealthy man with all his limbs intact, and…
“Hngh…”
…The Detective, who seemed more versed in Sleep than Sex, didn’t just get one round out sloppily and pass out in an area where he was a beginner.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sound of wet flesh colliding with flesh was loud. Son Yowan had heard it so much that the sound was starting to sound like his own breathing.
“Ahhh, ah, hnngh, hngh!”
Every time the thudding collision sound was heard, Son Yowan’s body shook wildly like a puppet with its strings cut. When he unconsciously twisted his head and pressed his cheek against the bed, the color of the sheets that came into view was strange. The thoroughly disheveled sheets were only half white, and the rest…
Crazy, the sheets have all been dragged down.
Every time the Detective thrust once, his entire body pressed underneath shook, and sometimes even this large bed’s headboard rattled, so there was no way the fragile sheets could withstand it.
“Ahhhngh!”
Thwack!
Large hands grabbed each side of his buttocks, spread them as wide as they could go, then thrust his member in with a bang. The member, so long it made him wonder if that was really human, swept through his inner walls as it entered, spread the narrow entrance to its limit and slid out, then with less than a second’s pause, thrust back in—the sensation was indescribably violent and messy.
“Ahhng! Hngh! Haaah! Hngh!”
The movements of grabbing both hands and thrusting were the same.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Son Yowan saw his own legs shaking at the edge of his blurry vision. Damn it, it was missionary position for once—after being done several times, he’d learned the Detective’s preferred positions; he most liked rear-entry positions. As expected of The Godfather’s dog!—but being thrust into with his waist nearly folded in half, it would’ve been more comfortable for his body to be thrust into while lying on his stomach. Because of the position where his waist was folded and his hole was explicitly exposed to the partner occupying his space above, it felt like his hole and inner walls were being pierced through by a spear made of flesh.
“Ahhhngh!”
The position, the sounds, even the partner’s movements. There wasn’t a single gentle aspect anywhere. It made him wonder where this bastard had lost his virginity to pick up such bad habits.
“Hnngh, …ngh, ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! More! Moooore! So… Ah! Captain… nim, there, more! There! Ah! Good, more, har-, harder! More! Ah! More tight, you can grip tighter… Aaaaah! Ah! Good, good, ah! Feels so good, ahhh! Ah! Aaah! You can be rougher… Mmgh! That’s right, li-, like that, ah! Mmmgh, …spa-, spare me, ah, ahhhng!”
…
And where did I pick up such bad habits…
Son Yowan felt like crying a little.
“Ahhhngh, ah, hnngh, ngh…!”
Not this crying.
Anyway.
“Haa… Haa… Ha… …Huh? You’re going again? No, how long has it been since you came?”
“Son Yowan-ssi can just sleep…”
“You said that earlier too, didn’t you? You want me to do that again? When does your stamina even run out… no, when do you sleep?”
For this, that, and such reasons.
“Mmm…! Cap-, tain-nim, don’t you ha-, hate moving? Isn’t that why you’re always lying down…”
“That’s correct.”
“Then, why.”
“This is also doing it while lying down… isn’t it.”
“That’s tru-… well, …ah!”
Son Yowan couldn’t achieve his original plan for quite a while after that.
…
…
…
This position and that position and such positions. The situation of being thrust into on the bed where the sheets had finally escaped to the floor after being unable to endure, the situation of briefly passing out then coming to his senses while being thrust into, the situation of begging to do it raw because it was a waste of time to dispose of used condoms and put on new ones, and the situation of begging to be bitten more because it felt too good… After such (emotional) epic sagas passed, Son Yowan opened his eyes at some point.
I’m screwed.
Since he was lying on his side, the first thing he saw with his still blurry vision wasn’t the now-familiar ceiling but the tower of old-fashioned radios filling the wall. The round buttons embedded in the classic wooden bodies that collectors who liked pre-World Funeral items would go crazy for gave him the illusion that they were observing him like eyes.
However, what Son Yowan meant by being screwed wasn’t because he’d failed to seize the opportunity to examine those radios.
Fuck, my sexual preferences.
That’s right, what was screwed was his sexual preferences.
Son Yowan had a rare moment of self-reflection. When the Detective spouted fortune-teller-like bullshit saying he liked rough sex, he’d criticized him (inwardly) saying that guy’s nickname was dog and he talked bullshit too, but to have that turn out right—or more precisely, to have it become right.
Was I modified, or did I originally have that preference and it was just discovered this time?
