episode_0416

…

The words Seo Woojin had said—”Your boyfriend would probably love this.”

I could just take that as a simple compliment.

After all, he’s a guy who’s held plenty of women besides me, so there’s some credibility to it.

Though whether he truly meant it is another question entirely…

Evidence #1. If I think back to the amount of cum that just filled the condom, it probably wasn’t an empty remark.

The sheer volume inside was almost the same as what had spilled onto the floor and sofa back at the pension with Hayun.

Add to that the fact that Hayun is far more popular with men than I am.

The fact that Woojin didn’t just recklessly pound into me—that I was the one slowly moving on top.

And lastly, the fact that we were using protection.

Considering all that, there’s no need to overthink it.

…Even after all that, the amount was similar to what I saw back then.

If I had let him go at it like he did with Hayun…

He might’ve come even more than before.

—Splaaash

“…Haaah…”

Anyway.

My first experience ended as a messy tangle of Woojin’s threats, my own curiosity, and my feelings for Baek Jiho.

No love was involved.

It was just practice and curiosity, so I’m not sure if it even counts as a “first experience”… but well, an experience is an experience.

If Baek Jiho’s heart ever softens toward me, maybe it’s better that I’m the one with some experience—so I can naturally lead things.

That way, the awkwardness between us might finally ease.

Lost in thought, I rinsed off the sweat and stepped out, loosely draping a white towel around myself.

At this point, covering up feels pointless—he’s already seen everything while we were tangled up. But still… I don’t like the idea of just carelessly exposing myself. It feels cheap.

So I kept my expression as blunt as usual, just to make sure Woojin didn’t get any weird ideas.

But the moment I stepped into the living room, Woojin just smiled at me softly, no matter how I acted.

“Done washing up?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“Haha. Sorry I don’t have anything special to offer. I’m not really the snacking type.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t eat that stuff anyway.”

“Weird. Your sister said you like sweet things. Remember when I gave you ice cream in the infirmary?”

“……”

I do like them.

Just not enough to buy them often. It’s not like there are girls who hate sweets.

But I didn’t want to keep talking to him, so I stomped over to the hairdryer and blasted it loudly.

A silent message: Enough talking. Go take a shower.

Luckily, instead of pressing further, Woojin just casually stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt and headed into the bathroom.

As the door closed with a thud, I sighed and swept my hair back.

…I deliberately acted cold to discourage any weird thoughts, so why isn’t he flustered? Why does he act so familiar?

Did he mentally prepare himself for this?

Or has he been with a partner who acted similarly during sex?

Someone who normally speaks bluntly?

Plenty of theories popped into my head, but with so little information, it was frustrating.

The fact that Woojin has multiple sex partners—I didn’t even find that out myself. He was the one who told me.

“……”

Information.

That’s what I need.

Honestly, we’re both already holding nuclear bombs.

Though if either of us sets them off, he stands to lose more…

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

Since this is a good opportunity, I subtly reached for Woojin’s smartphone.

If I’m lucky, I might find out how many of these so-called “sex partners” he has.

Making a list would tighten the leash around his neck.

Just as insurance.

“…Tch.”

But of course, his phone was locked.

The only things I could see without unlocking it were a few notification icons—KaTalk included.

Not wanting to leave any suspicious traces, I pulled back and scanned the room instead.

Right. Maybe there are traces of other women in this apartment.

And maybe, just maybe, I could guess their professions.

So I started with the bedside drawer.

“Do you really just spend all your time fucking…?”

But all that was inside were a few neatly stacked boxes of condoms.

Even though he told me to grab one from the other drawer earlier.

So are these just emergency condoms for when he’s in a hurry?

Baffled, I suddenly remembered jokes about poking holes in condoms and almost checked—but the boxes were tightly sealed, so I couldn’t.

Are condom boxes always this tightly sealed? I wouldn’t know—I’ve never bought them myself.

With nothing gained, I moved to the next drawer.

And the next.

And the next.

Most were either empty or filled with socks, men’s underwear, and the like.

Until finally…

“…Hmm.”

Inside Woojin’s closet…

I found something.

“…What am I supposed to do with this?”

Not that it was anything major.

Just a single, long strand of bluish-white hair.

“Hayun has black hair… Jiyun has white… and hers is a bob…”

Even when I held it against my own head, the strand reached past my navel.

So it definitely wasn’t Jiyun’s hair, which only barely brushed her shoulders.

Meaning—another woman’s hair.

Meaning—likely one of his sex partners.

But even that wasn’t 100% certain.

It could’ve just gotten stuck to him on the subway and fallen off here.

If there were multiple strands, I’d be more confident—but with just one, it’s ambiguous.

Plus, this bluish-white color…

It’s not super common, but it’s not rare either.

Just in our academy’s second year alone, there are a few girls with this shade.

I don’t interact much with first-years, but I’ve seen a couple around.

And in third year…

The student council president has this hair color, for one.

Just how many suspects are there?

“…Tch……”

No idea. Absolutely none.

Clicking my tongue in frustration, I closed the closet and focused on drying my hair.

“…Huh? Did they go out?”

By the time I got home, it was already 10 PM.

I even texted Mom in case she’d scold me for being late, but it seems my parents went out together.

Now that I think about it, I think I overheard them talking about a movie or something.

Maybe that’s why they didn’t check their messages?

Well, maybe they’re just enjoying some quality time.

Not wanting to disturb them, I stopped by the kitchen first, downed a glass of cold water, and headed to my room.

“…Ugh, it’s hot…”

Tropical night.

And not just any tropical night—this was mid-July, when the heat only gets worse.

It’s ridiculous that it’s this bad even before August, but complaining won’t change anything. I just turned on the AC.

After tossing my mask onto the desk, I flopped onto the bed in the same clothes I’d worn outside.

It’s only been about an hour since I showered at Woojin’s place, but I’m already sticky with sweat. Disgusting.

…At this point, should I just shower again?

A quick rinse, since a thorough wash sounds exhausting?

Then maybe binge-watch some dramas on YouTube?

Lost in my half-hearted thoughts, I was about to head to the bathroom when—

“…”

The paper bag I’d brought home caught on my foot. I looked down.

Inside was… well, I guess you could call it unused.

The massive dildo that had almost gone inside me.

A whopping 23 cm—longer than my fully spread hand.

I left the box at Woojin’s because the design was too explicit, but I didn’t leave the actual product behind.

Rustling the bag, I pulled out the dildo and sighed at its embarrassing shape.

Realistically, the smartest move would’ve been to secretly throw it away somewhere.

Like Woojin said, the only place I could hide it is my room’s drawer—and even that isn’t safe from Mom’s invasions.

Back when we talked on the swing, I 100% agreed.

But the fact that I brought it home anyway…

…Well, let’s just say… for a reason.

When you think about it, everything that happened today was because of this dildo.

It’s like the opposite of a lucky charm.

But I—

“…”

I briefly went to the kitchen and followed the “instructions.”

“…This is insane.”

After 30 seconds—spent nervously listening for my parents’ return—the microwave beeped and stopped.

What I pulled out was, of course… the silicone dildo I’d bought.

It looked grotesque, and now it was warm—which just made it weirder—but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Carefully returning to my room, I locked the door and inspected the toy.

“…Does it just stick on contact…?”

Just to be clear—I’m only doing this for personal use.

The spot Woojin showed me earlier felt really good.

It felt different from just using my fingers or… well, other things.

Since those probably can’t reach there anyway.

I’m just borrowing the toy’s help.

Isn’t that healthier than asking Woojin to “help me masturbate” whenever I feel like it?

Obviously.

“So if I press it here…”

After rationalizing it to myself, I firmly pressed the dildo against the wall.

True to its suction cup description, it stuck firmly, as if vacuum-sealed.

Blinking at it, I shook off the fog of thoughts creeping in and pulled it free.

…If I place it this high, I won’t be able to use it properly.

Somewhere lower.

And if I want to move my hips comfortably…

Maybe just stick it vertically on the floor?

Or here…

“It—it sticks… Here too…”

Beside the bed.

Against this wall.

On my knees, leaning forward…

“…”

So… roughly like this?

With no experience to go off, I tried lying down comfortably, pressing my hips against the wall to gauge the position.

Once the dildo was in a plausible spot, I rocked my hips again.

Thud, thud. The sensation wasn’t hard—more like something soft being pressed.

…Since I’m still wearing clothes and panties, this is just a simulation.

But for a first attempt, it felt like I was hitting a decent spot.

I’ll just note the slight imperfections and mark them for later in a way only I’d understand.

With the experiment over, I crawled out of bed to finally shower as planned.

“…”

…Well.

Almost made it out.

Guess I’m just lacking talent.

Two and a half years at the academy, rolling through all kinds of experiences—the verdict was “failure.”

While my friends grew day by day, I was stuck running in place. Can’t be helped, I suppose.

The loud music blasting through my earbuds at max volume was a brief distraction.

Lying on his bed, Baek Jiho squinted at his phone screen.

Remedial classes would start soon.

But… are they really necessary?

There are people who want to be heroes even if they’re weak.

All those shining memories from childhood media.

Countless men in the world must dream of walking that glittering path.

But how many people actually want a weak hero to come save them?

Rather than chasing foolish romance, maybe choosing a rational path is fine too.

“Sigh…

Well, whatever.

Not all Supers are strong.

Some Supers are barely any different from ordinary people—too strong to be normal, yet too weak to be proper heroes.

I’ll just walk my own path.

Even with this half-baked power, I’ll carve out a place as the King of Grinding.

As Jiho agonized over whether to attend the remedial class, he scratched his head and sat up.

Late as it was, he was about to text his teacher to ask when would be a good time to call.

—…Hhk, …nngh…

“……?”

A strange sound came from beyond the wall.

Well, strange is an understatement—

It was unmistakably a moan.

“…Tch.”

Right. It’s already past 10 PM.

Probably just masturbating.

It’s happened before—once every six months or so. Assuming it was the same this time, Jiho headed to the kitchen for a quick break.

Dabin must be trying to stay quiet, but if she knew I could hear, she’d probably die of embarrassment on the spot.

Her looks might be fierce, but she’s softer than she seems…

So I’ll just drink some water, stretch, and head back.

That’s when it happened.

—Nngh…! Hah, …ah…! …Ohh…

“……”

Unlike before, when the sounds would leak out just once or twice, tonight’s moans were far more intense.

Though still muffled by the wall.

…Is she doing this on purpose because I turned her down at the pension?

But she’s been quiet for days. Why today of all times…?

What should I do?

If I knock on the wall now and tell her to tone it down, she’ll freak out.

Maybe I should just quietly send her a text so she realizes later.

…But that feels off too.

Just the fact that I noticed is awkward enough.

Thoughts swirled in Jiho’s head.

No good ideas came to mind.

“…Sigh.”

And the biggest problem of all?

Hearing Dabin’s shameless moans didn’t give me even the slightest erection.

…It’s too embarrassing to talk to my parents about, but according to the internet, it’s probably trauma-induced erectile dysfunction.

Given my inferiority complex and how Dabin reacted back then… can’t be helped.

Even now, there’s not a twitch down there.

It’s not that I’m not interested in sex—I could probably spend all day rolling around with Dabin.

And lately, maybe because she feels guilty about what happened, she’s been more blatant with her advances.

But my body seems scared.

Afraid of a repeat.

…When will this damn condition heal?

As the moans from the next room grew louder, my frustration deepened.

Finally, I just shoved my earbuds in and cranked up the volume.

“……”

If this is all part of Dabin’s plan…

Then until I’m cured, I’ll just have to pretend I don’t notice.

No matter how embarrassing it is.