episode_0252

.

“Wait a second.”

“…”

Perhaps because my body was burning up. The night breeze felt oddly cooler as we arrived at a studio apartment building that looked utterly ordinary, just as Seo Woojin had described.

The only notable feature was that the first floor could fit about eight cars. Not that this was particularly remarkable enough to mention.

Still, judging by the relatively expensive cars parked there, it didn’t seem like a dump.

Ah, a driver’s license. Maybe I should get one before it’s too late.

What kind of car would be good, though?

A sedan. Wait, is a sedan even a car type?

“…Ugh… Haaah…”

For a moment, I tried to distract myself from the overwhelming lust surging through me by forcing random thoughts into my head.

Standing quietly behind him as he entered the passcode for the shared entrance, I covered my mouth with my windbreaker sleeve. The moment the glass door slid open, I moved without hesitation.

To exaggerate slightly, it felt like I was glued to Woojin’s back as we climbed the stairs, like lovers.

I wanted to push him forward and tell him to hurry up, but the last shred of my rationality spared me that embarrassment.

…I already came here under the excuse of needing the bathroom. If I looked too desperate, I’d want to bite my tongue off.

Fortunately, Woojin’s apartment was Unit 205.

Hearing the beep of the door unlocking, I clumsily kicked off my sneakers, following his lead as he neatly removed his shoes.

Normally, I’d take the time to arrange them properly, but…

…I’m really,

in a hurry.

“Th-thanks… I’ll be quick.”

“Should I step out while you use it?”

“…Just a minute… Sorry… Ugh, sorry…”

“Then I’ll wait outside the front door for about three minutes before coming back in. Or you can open it for me when you’re done.”

Nodding, I glanced at the slightly messy state of his room as he scratched the back of his head and sighed before stepping outside.

The sound of footsteps fading confirmed he wasn’t joking about waiting out there.

If it were Yoo Siwoo—

That stalker bastard—he wouldn’t have waited outside. He’d have tried to follow me into the bathroom.

He’d have proudly shoved his disgusting genitals in my face.

Hell, he might’ve even tried to force himself on me.

Or spiked my drink with some pathetic excuse.

Uncontrollable lust.

Chewing on bitter thoughts about Siwoo to vent my frustration, I tossed my windbreaker onto the floor and hurried into the bathroom before it was too late.

“…Ngh…”

So men really leave the toilet seat up.

This wasn’t the time for observations like that.

Black T-shirt. The loose gray joggers I wore underneath, along with my panties, were hooked onto my thumbs and dragged down to mid-thigh.

…Of course, I was wet.

Glistening strands under the fluorescent light.

The damp stain left on my panties.

And the unmistakable sensation between my thighs.

There was no denying it.

All Woojin did was briefly hold my wrist.

Sure, there were other little things, but still…

If just that much could reduce me to this state—

What if, for some reason, I ended up in his arms?

…Would my mind be reduced to nothing but sex and him?

Whether I was a gumiho devoted to one pure love—

Or one whose partners changed daily in paparazzi shots—

All the other gumiho besides me—

Were treated like sluts online anyway.

“…Hhk…!”

I can’t let that happen.

I don’t want to end up like that.

So I sat on the toilet, bringing one hand between my legs.

Please, let masturbation be enough.

If I have to do more, I won’t be able to face Woojin. Let this be enough.

Let this stay as just an embarrassing incident where I asked a guy I barely know to use his bathroom.

Praying desperately to gods I didn’t even believe in.

“Ah, hehk…?! Ngh, ugh…?!”

My middle finger, pressing down too hard in my haste, dug roughly into my clit.

Not intentional—just a mistake.

My back jerked against the toilet tank, thighs trembling.

Not because it hurt, of course.

…Honestly,

it felt good.

So good I stared blankly at the tiles, panting.

Normally, even the gentlest touch would hurt,

but now, even pressing down hard by accident—

felt good.

Which made it even more… humiliating.

I’d loudly proclaimed to Yozora that this kind of thing didn’t feel good at all.

Yet here I was,

in Woojin’s bathroom.

…Rubbing my clit,

desperately.

“Ngh……. …Khh……. …Hah!?”

Last time—the first time I was in heat—

how did I touch myself to feel the best?

In the infirmary, what kind of touch felt the best?

Didn’t I come just from rubbing over my panties?

Forcing myself to recall those unwanted memories, I wiggled my fingers.

The result? A slippery, transparent fluid began stringing between my fingers—enough to pool in my palm if I let it.

…Calling this “sweat” was a joke even a naive child wouldn’t believe.

But I pretended it was sweat.

The filthy thoughts of what it really was—▒▒ from masturbating while thinking of Woojin—I scraped away with my nails.

Until the sound of that “sweat” squelching against my clit filled the room.

Until my shoulders jerked, bringing me to the edge.

Moaning softly in someone else’s bathroom, I kept going.

“…Haaah……. Ha……. Haaah…”

But it was impossible.

My fingers could only take me so far—to feeling “really good.”

I couldn’t reach climax. No matter how hard I tried.

Having experienced it twice already, my body remembered the sensation leading up to it.

…But it kept getting cut off.

Just a little more. Just a little more, and I’ll get there.

But no matter how much I rubbed my swollen, reddened clit, it wouldn’t push me over.

Like a lock firmly bolted shut.

“Time… Haaah… Right, one minute…”

Sitting with my hips pushed back, panting shamelessly, I frantically checked my phone for the time.

Pointless. I hadn’t noted when I came in.

Rough estimate? Maybe a minute had passed.

…Or not? Could be a 30-second margin, but that’s what it felt like.

Which meant I had about two minutes left.

To climax without Woojin’s help and leave—

Sitting on the toilet, my lust-clouded mind raced. After a moment, I wiped my damp thighs and stepped out.

At this rate, I might really have to ask him.

Even after lying through my teeth hours ago—”Being in heat was all a lie,” “Last time was just Yozora’s idea.”

To avoid this nightmare, maybe…

…Though it’s just a guess for now.

I’ll have to…

borrow it.

“…”

The closet was close to the bathroom, typical for a studio.

Prying open the firmly shut wooden door, I searched for clothes that would carry Woojin’s scent the most.

…My target? His academy uniform.

Despite being a health teacher, his actual position was complicated, so he wore a uniform to school.

Probably didn’t need the pants.

Just the shirt—especially the dress shirt or tie.

Something he wore often, pressed close to his body.

…Not that I was looking for something to masturbate to while imagining him. More like—

To trick my brain into feeling like he was touching me.

Imagination alone wasn’t enough—I needed his scent for realism.

This wasn’t because I wanted to sleep with him.

Absolutely not.

It was just…

…A makeshift dildo.

A tool to relieve my lust—that’s all.

“…Ah.”

Found it. Woojin’s shirt.

Remembering where it was, I carefully pulled it off the hanger and, before wasting more time, brought it to my nose. Sniff.

…His scent wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t pleasant either.

Just a neutral, identifying scent—like a nametag.

Taking deeper whiffs, I hesitated when my body didn’t react further before heading back to the bathroom.

“…Huu, ngh…”

That carelessness was a mistake.

“…Nghk…?! Heh, heh…? W-wait…. Hieh……”

I shouldn’t have just smelled it and brought it in.

I should’ve tried masturbating with it first, then decided whether to take it to the bathroom.

No—maybe I should’ve just swallowed my pride and confessed to Woojin.

Being around you makes me go into heat. Help me just this once.

Please—and don’t get any weird ideas.

It’s just because I’m a gumiho.

Lightening the mood with a joke might’ve worked.

If I had—

“……Hah!? A-ah…. ……Ngh…”

Then I wouldn’t be in Woojin’s bathroom.

Stealing his crisp white dress shirt to press against my face.

Quietly inhaling his scent—a man I claimed to dislike—deep into my lungs.

While muttering denials under my breath.

My fingers, slick with transparent fluid, working desperately—

…Feeling so good.

Squelch, squelch, squelch,

squelch.

The lewd, wet sounds echoed off the bathroom walls as I tormented my clit.

None of this would’ve happened.

…And then.

“…What are you doing in here?”

“……. ….”

Woojin, waiting outside—

Not because I took too long.

But because loud moans were coming from inside.

Wouldn’t have come to check on me.

“…Just in case, don’t bite your tongue. It’s easy to treat but a pain to clean up.”

“…….”

“I’ll keep it a secret from your friend, so calm down.… I’m going to the convenience store. Need anything?”

“…A kitchen knife.”

“Not that.”

Just hearing his calm voice—

…Pushed me over the edge.

Splurt, splurt— staining someone else’s bathroom walls with my scent.

Covering my face in shame, wanting to die.

Of all things, hiding behind Woojin’s dress shirt as I trembled.

…Wiping my soaked fingers on my thighs where he couldn’t see.

None of that would’ve happened.