It finally happened—I held Yoomin's hand. It felt like a dream. From childhood friends to lovers, our future seemed endless…
"This is ridiculous…"
The romance approach of the novel's protagonists was frustrating. They had to make progress within a month of confessing their feelings for each other. But after a month, all they had achieved was holding hands. It was so frustrating it drove me to madness.
"Wait! How the fuck does this make sense? If you've been dating for about a month, shouldn't you have already progressed physically?"
"What would a guy like you understand? Put the phone down, and focus on me, dammit!"
I was about to toss the phone aside when I realized it wasn't mine. How am I supposed to focus? Why did the author pick such a slow development for these socially awkward characters? I couldn't understand it at all.
"What's the title of this novel again?"
"It's Academy Pure Love Diary. No, seriously, stop asking about the damn novel and pay attention!"
In response, I quickly glanced below. A skeletal figure with visible rib bones caught my eye. With each deep breath, her exposed collarbone seemed sharper. Her piercing eyes seemed capable of tearing a person apart, and her nails were already extended, digging into my back.
"Hey, stop with the nail thing! You were chewing me last time, and now you're doing this with your nails. Honestly, I'm feeling victimized here." As soon as I finished speaking, I heard an incredulous laughter.
Minjung reached out and grabbed my neck with both hands, completely immobilizing my head. Even as I struggled to breathe, she continued to move her hips steadily. With every squelching sound, the semen that had already spilled down her buttocks soaked the bedsheet.
"Is it because of that? Bastard, you just snatched my phone and called my boyfriend, remember? Do you know how awkward that was?"
Dealing with Minjung at times like this simply required a steadfast approach.
As she continued to use profanities and moan, she secured my waist completely with her legs, muffling any sound, but it was amazing that she was still cursing. I gently moved my hand down, using my thumb to softly stimulate her clit, resulting in a scream that could have torn eardrums.
"Minjung, it's not like I wanted this. Your boyfriend is about to enlist in the military in a few days, and you're here, fooling around with some guy."
She'll probably contact me again as soon as her boyfriend enters the military, won't she? That's what will happen, right?
Minjung remained silent, her toes trembling and curling at the edge of the bed. Her eyelids were fluttering, and it seemed like she was nearly done. So, I picked up the pace. She sounded like a piglet being strangled before my climax. At the end, she collapsed with only her waist shivering, resembling a squid.
I was about to caress her hair but remembered how she choked me earlier, so I took a strong hold of her hair. "I've already said it three times, you need to clean it up when we're finished. Get to it."
A delightful feeling swept through my body as her moans transformed into squishy sounds. I moved my hips slightly, and she took care of the rest, swallowing every last drop. I got up from the bed and checked my phone, finding a bunch of missed calls and texts.
"We did it yesterday, so let's put a hold on this one… She has a big chest, how about a drink tonight? Oh… and looking back, we planned a threesome for today, right?"
I vigorously flicked my thumb with one hand while quickly putting on my clothes with the other. It was quite a busy day. On days when I have to run about two rounds, strict self-management is always necessary. I have to eat eel for dinner to digest this schedule.
"Minjung, we've been at it all night, so no need to rush out. I'll go ahead, and I'll contact you again."
I overheard a medley of insults from behind, including "asshole," "screw you," and the like, but I paid them no mind. It wasn't my first rodeo, and honestly, it was all part of Minjung's feisty allure. There was a certain spiciness that came not only from her slender body but also from her foul mouth.
As I strolled out of the motel, I decided to look up the title of that novel on my phone. Surprisingly, it appeared to be quite the hit, boasting mostly positive reviews. It's currently on hiatus, and the latest chapter had just dropped yesterday. Out of sheer curiosity, I splurged on it and began reading, only to realize it was the exact same story I'd read back at the motel.
"So, this whole tale revolves around dating and hand-holding, building trust, affection, and progress step by step? Really? Is this what people are into?"
I couldn't quite wrap my head around the emotional response it triggered. I grew curious about how things would unfold if someone else took the reins. Even those seemingly one-way roads sometimes concealed hidden detours.
Human emotions, as predictable as ever, seemed to follow familiar patterns. Even the protagonist of this narrative conformed to the stereotype. Despite being firmly in his twenties, one might anticipate a stronger inclination toward sex. Yet, here he was, gleefully celebrating hand-holding as if it were some monumental achievement. The entire narrative came across as rather contrived, a desperate attempt to needlessly prolong a storyline.
Normally, I wouldn't even bother with such a novel, let alone leave a comment. But today, for some inexplicable reason, it just felt like the right thing to do. With a faint hope that the comment I left might serve as some twisted form of nourishment for the author, I began to type a lengthy response.
I had plans to meet up with Soojung, but I pushed that aside, knowing that if I didn't vent my frustrations now, I'd probably end up fiddling with my phone while navigating the traffic.
[Hello, dear author. I'm one of your readers who just suffered through your latest update. I can't quite fathom what kind of bond has been painstakingly crafted between Minsoo and Yoomin over all this time, but it's high time they stepped out of their holding-hands-innocence bubble. Ending it with just that feels like a glaring lack of experience in the realm of relationships…]
Originally, I had planned to cut it off there, but my mounting irritation with the story's progression got the better of me, and my fingers continued to type on their own.
[…Holding hands and blushing like teenagers should've been left behind in elementary school. Honestly, at their age, this level of naivety feels utterly preposterous. Minsoo and Yoomin come off as painfully inexperienced, and it doesn't convey purity, just sheer cluelessness…]
The comment grew steadily longer, and as I attempted to continue, I quickly ran up against the character limit, forcing me to copy and paste what I'd written and start a private message. It struck me as odd how readily available the author's email was; I wondered if this was a common practice.
[…So, here's my humble request, just a fervent reader who suffered through your latest update.]
I'd barely scratched the surface with one chapter, but I liked to think of myself as an avid reader. I mean, really, who'd go the extra mile and send a 1,500-word message just based on the latest update? It was an honest, albeit somewhat idealistic, hope that my small contribution might make a difference. Sure, there were a few choice words in there that weren't exactly sugar-coated, but considering the grand scheme of things, they felt like nothing more than a passing whim.
"This should make me a pretty decent reader, honestly," I muttered to myself before getting into the car. I glanced at other comments, some of which read, "I'm getting off. Author, you should too," but compared to those, my comment seemed rather mild.
I rolled down the window and peered up at the motel window. Minjung's room light was still on. Normally, she'd have gone to sleep by now, always saying she'd shower and sleep, shower and sleep, but today seemed different.
"How cute." As I drove through the motel parking lot, I suddenly found myself in a white space instead of the road. I wondered if such a place existed, but it didn't ring any bells in my memory. It was a completely empty white space. It felt surreal. What's this?
I wasn't exhausted to the point of fatigue after sex. I had never experienced anything like this before. So, if it wasn't a dream, how could I explain this endless white space even if I accelerated to 200 kilometers per hour? My phone was useless, and everywhere I went, it all looked the same. I decided to step out of the car.
"At last, some peace and quiet."
I couldn't help but chuckle as I raised my head to the unexpected voice. My eyes zeroed in on the buttons of the checkered shirt, a wild mix of purple and black, appearing ready to burst any moment. And those glasses on him? Let's just say they weren't winning any fashion awards.
"What the—" I was about to speak when he cut in, sounding like he owned the place.
"You, that email you sent, I read it carefully. At first, I was thrilled because it was the longest comment I'd ever seen, and it was filled with praise… but as I kept reading, you… you began tearing me apart…"
His tightly clenched fist was shaking like a leaf. His face was turning redder by the second, resembling a tomato on the verge of bursting. His quivering figure looked like a malfunctioning kitchen appliance.
"…Then I spotted you… and I just couldn't hold back my anger… Do you think you can mock me just because you're tall, good-looking, and loaded? Not a chance… Who on earth wants to be a virgin? It's not like I signed up for this role… You… you're just an insufferable punk!"
His double chin was practically dancing with each word. It was absolutely hilarious. The mood had gone from serious to absurd, but I couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"What are you even saying, hahaha! Seriously, stop it! Haha! I'm sorry, but this is too funny… Enough with the weird talk. We're both stuck here, right? Let's figure out how to get out."
I thought my suggestion was quite sensible. Instead of wasting time on his rants, finding an escape seemed like a better plan. However, for Mr. Eyeglasses, or as I had affectionately nicknamed him, Mr. Double Chin, his priorities were different.
"Y-You're still making fun of me?! I told you not to mock me! If you're so clever, why don't you give it a shot yourself, you little brat! You'll regret this!"
Even his angry outburst was oddly amusing. His clenched fist looked like a steamed bun, and it was just plain cute. Unable to contain my laughter, I continued to giggle.
Just as Mr. Double Chin clapped his hands, a massive book materialized behind him. Its cover read "The Art of Escape," and it whooshed open, speeding toward me. I tried to turn and flee, but it was too late. In that moment, his voice shifted from before, now with precise enunciation and tone.
"You think you can escape from it?! Try enjoying a lifetime stuck in there!!!"
If only I'd known this was coming; I would've given that wobbling double chin a good tug earlier.