HPK 39

A moment later, just before he passed out, Taejung slowly pulled his hips back. Thump. His penis came all the way out. The semen pooled at the tip of the head stretched out like a thread, still connected to the opening. When Taejung stroked his penis with his hand, it quickly snapped. His penis, pickled in all sorts of bodily fluids and gleaming, swelled up again, not knowing satisfaction.

“Haa, hah…”

Wooseung was busy gasping for the breath he had been holding. His thin body fluttered, and a grating, metallic sound rang out with every breath he took. Below, the opening repeatedly opened and closed in tandem. Through the gaping opening, the semen Taejung had shot out seeped out. What should have been a cloudy white color had a faint pinkish tinge.

“Did it tear?”

Taejung spread the opening wide with his thumb.

“Heuk…”

Wooseung’s lips twisted miserably. He was suddenly terrified by the casually muttered words. It wasn’t long before the tears he had been holding back burst forth.

“Heuk, heu-euk, kkeuk.”

The tears, held back for so long, were filled with sorrow and soaked even the surrounding air. Tears flowed down his temples and seeped into his hair.

“Fuck. Hey, it didn’t tear.”

Even though blood-mixed semen was trickling down from the opening that had been stretched into a line, Taejung lied brazenly. He had a wound inside, but it wasn’t torn anyway.

He patted the rather fleshy buttocks with his hand, pat, pat, and said again that it didn’t tear. It was a rough and crude touch that could not be seen as comforting at all.

“Heu-euk… kkeuk.”

Wooseung curled his body into a ball and lay on his side, as if to escape from him. He pushed himself up slowly with his right arm on the table. Even with a small movement, something gushed out from below. It was closer to pouring out than leaking.

“Ah.”

The moment he sat down on the table, he realized that it was unusually wet underneath him. He looked down to check and saw that he had sat down on the spot where the semen had pooled. The puddle was a mixture of a faintly pinkish liquid and a transparent liquid. When he realized that this was the cause of the slap, slap sounds, his bottom somehow felt even more sore.

“You were getting wet, you know?”

Taejung said as he plopped down on the sofa, tilted his head back, and then brought it down. A post-coital languor could be felt from the way he casually draped his arm over the backrest. He swept back his hair, which was plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“Heu…”

Getting wet, he said. He was teasing him again with such ridiculous words. Wooseung desperately averted his gaze from the puddle of bodily fluids.

His thin chest rose and fell irregularly. He tried his best to stop crying, but the feeling of sorrow just would not go away.

If it had been a normal situation, with Taejung in front of him, he might have whipped himself into submission to stop crying and quickly calm down. But the lingering alcohol in his system had instilled in him something that was either courage or recklessness.

“This… it all came from you, sir.”

Taejung, who had been craning his neck with a creak, furrowed his brow.

“All of it, it all came from you…”

Wooseung stopped talking and rubbed his eyes vigorously with his arm. He was still busy hiccupping, but he busily lowered his feet to the floor. With a trembling hand, he picked up his crumpled, rolled-up pants.

Just then, a dark shadow fell over him. Taejung, who had been sitting on the sofa, had shot up and come over here.

“It came from me?”

“…Yes.”

“Wow, that’s so fucking unfair.”

Taejung swiped his finger through the liquid pooled on the table. He rubbed his index finger and thumb together, gauging the viscosity of the liquid, then held it right in front of Wooseung’s nose and demonstratively pulled his fingers apart. The bodily fluid stretched out stickily and then dripped down with a plop.

“See. It’s yours.”

“…It’s not. It’s yours, sir.”

Taejung laughed in disbelief at the stubborn reply. He seemed to think for a moment, then soon gave a clear answer.

“Fine.”

“…”

“We’ll find out whether it’s yours or not if we do it again.”

“What?”

Wooseung was thrown onto the sofa just like that.

“Ah!”

He scrambled to get up, but Taejung was faster, spreading Wooseung’s legs with his foot.

“Wait, eut!”

Taejung spread his plump buttocks and shoved his penis in. When he pulled back with a jerk, a slick liquid came out along with the red inner flesh. The gleaming bodily fluids shone sensuously.

“Look at this. Keu-eut, it is, yours, isn’t it. Hooeu.”

The corner of his mouth twisted as a laugh escaped. He was really cunning, pretending to be coy when he was dripping wet. Taejung pressed down on his thin waist with both hands and rammed his penis in, thump, thump.

“Ah, ah, aheuk!”

A cry mixed with a scream rode the damp air and soon filled the room.

♡

While Taejung came three times, Wooseung only came once. And that was as good as being forced to come, as he was pinned to the sofa and shaken with the penis inside him, causing his own penis to be rubbed. But even so, coming was coming, and it was miserable to look at the traces of semen soaked into the sofa.

“Stop fucking crying.”

Taejung, sitting on the sofa with his legs spread wide in an arrogant manner, snapped with a look of utter disgust. He casually draped his left arm over the backrest and brought a cigarette to his lips to light it. He took a deep drag, his cheeks hollowing out, and when he blew it out, whoosh, the cloudy smoke danced unsteadily.

“…Heu, kkeup.”

Wooseung barely managed to hold back his rising tears and finished putting on his pants. The semen that kept leaking from between his buttocks was unpleasant, and his pants, all wrinkled and creased, were shabby, but he still felt a sense of relief.

Seeing as he didn’t say anything even after he had finished dressing, it seemed like it would be okay to just leave. He lightly slapped his throbbing head with his palm due to the lingering alcohol and then shook his head vigorously.

“Idiot.”

Taejung giggled as he watched him.

Wooseung did not react. He pressed his eyes, which were stinging from crying so much, with his palms and wiped them. But then he felt an unfamiliar weight on his wrist.

“Ah…”

Only then did he realize that he had been wearing Taejung’s watch the whole time. It had been pressed against the table, scraped, and had gone through a rough time, but the watch still boasted its elegant luster.

Being around the athletes, there were things he learned even if he didn’t want to. They listed the things they wanted to buy every day as if they were singing a song. There were no beautiful melodies or lyrics in it. Things that were expensive or that people would look up to if you wore them or drove them. They only placed value on that.

So Wooseung knew very well that the watch on his wrist right now was something he could never buy even if he worked to death his entire life. He also remembered one of the athletes singing about wanting to buy it one day.

“…”

It would be a lie to say he didn’t feel a lingering attachment. But Wooseung did not want to ruin things with greed. Once in a lifetime was enough for that.

He sorted out his thoughts and took off the watch with a trembling hand.

“Really?”

Taejung said, dragging out the end of his word in an exaggerated way as he flicked the ash into the ashtray.

Wooseung carefully placed the watch on the table and started to walk away. He was about to leave the room when a crooked thought suddenly sprouted. Wooseung turned around and went back in front of Taejung. His handsome eyebrows lifted, forming a mountain.

Wooseung swallowed hard and then looked at Taejung’s chin and said.

“…Please give it to me in cash.”

Taejung, who had been bringing the cigarette to his mouth, flinched.

“I… I don’t need a watch.”

“…”

“So please give it to me in cash.”

It was a miracle that he was standing on his own two feet. It felt like his knees would buckle if he let his guard down even for a moment, and semen was still trickling down from below. His waist, arms, wrists, there wasn’t a single place his hand had touched that didn’t ache.

“Why. Is the watch that shitty?”

“…That’s too ex, expensive.”

Taejung smiled and put the cigarette in his mouth. He rummaged through his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then took out two 50,000 won bills from his wallet. Then, after rummaging through the checks and bills that filled the inside, he couldn’t find a 10,000 won bill and threw his wallet on the table.

Taejung held the cigarette between the fingers of the hand holding the bills and bent his waist slightly. Then he brought the watch over with his other hand.

“Choose.”

He playfully held out both hands in front of Wooseung. The ash hanging from the end of the cigarette fell to the floor, pat, pat. The smoke that burned in a thin stream slightly obscured Taejung’s smiling face.

Wooseung thought that he was really too much. The tip of his nose tingled, and the urge to cry that he had barely managed to suppress surged up again. It churned below his throat, urging him to let it out.

“Don’t tell me this is difficult too?”

It was no different from that time when he had asked him in front of Hyungho whether he would suck his penis and receive 1 million won. The amount had jumped up to an absurd degree, but the situation Wooseung was in was exactly the same, without a single deviation.

‘I won’t choose either.’

That day, Wooseung had chosen nothing. And Taejung, pretending to be generous, had ended up tormenting him.

If he chose nothing this time either, in what way would Taejung torment him?

His thin fingers slowly pointed forward. As he snatched what his fingertips touched, a cool smile formed on Taejung’s lips.

“I find it the funniest when you pretend to be nice.”

Wooseung could neither cry nor laugh at the cool sensation that wrapped around his hand.

He held something more expensive than ever before, but his mood was dirtier than ever before.