Stay Sweet

I tried to play some

Bastion

but I just couldn't focus on it. I started tooling around the PlayStation Store to find something to burn money on, but nothing was out there. I settled for watching YouTube videos of Bob Ross; there were a bunch of MST3K episodes on there too, but that was only going to remind me of the woman I just completely fucking failed.

Did I have to say all that?

Did I have to call her a victim? Was that okay to say? Was there a more uplifting term I could've used to get across "You've been hurt and it's okay to lean on others for a while?"

Maybe I could've just said that?

Maybe I didn't have to be such a fucking asshole about it?

Jesus Christ, what did I do?

A soft knock on the door. I took a moment to churn up some resolve before I let her come in.

"Hey," Ji-yeong said, closing the door behind her. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nah," I said. "Just watching some happy trees." I moved to pat the space next to me, and then I realized I was on a bed. I didn't think it was possible to hate sex but goddamn, here I was, finding the very act of a friendly invitation forever ruined. Ji-yeong took the space anyway, keeping some awkward yet appreciated distance between our bodies.

We sat like that for a good ten minutes, watching Bob Ross conjure up this beautiful evening landscape out of nothing. I thought about small talk. I thought to remark about how much we needed guys like Bob Ross more than ever. Maybe suggest turning on an MST3K episode. Maybe tell her about

Mass Effect

since she liked

Jade Empire

so much. Really, though, there was only one thing I needed to tell her, and I decided it did me no good to clumsily try to ease into it. "Hey," I said, looking at her, "about what I told you downstairs—"

"I needed to hear it." Ji-yeong didn't look back to me. She didn't sound upset; just tired.

"I'm not sure you needed to hear it like that, though."

A long pause. "Doesn't matter." Now Ji-yeong looked at me. "I heard it. And I'm glad I did. Thank you."

Everything I wanted to say to that just seemed petty, and anyway, Bob Ross was talking about a cute injured bird that he was nursing back to health, so I just shut up and watched a true master do his thing.

"Responsible," said Ji-yeong, seemingly at random.

I looked at her, confused.

"You asked me why I stayed with him. I said that 'I felt...' and then just wandered off into something about him being a nice guy. Which was true, he could be very sweet, I wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise. But what I really felt was, well, responsible."

On the TV, Bob Ross smeared some paint on the canvas that I assumed he was going to magically transform into a cabin or something, but I wouldn't get to see how; I turned the video off.

Before I could ask how she felt responsible, Ji-yeong followed up. "Did your Mom or Dad tell you that he killed himself?"

I nodded.

"Did they tell you how?"

I shook my head.

"Hair dryer in the tub," she explained. "

My

hair dryer. Which is insane; every hair dryer has a ground fault interrupter, so—you know what ground fault interrupters are?"

"No." Once again, Ji-yeong was going to explain science to me. This was shaping up to be the darkest blast from the past ever.

"It senses when electricity isn't flowing the way it's supposed to and kills the circuit," Ji-yeong continued, "like an automatic emergency switch. So what Chad had to do was cut off the plug with the GFI, replace it with a standard plug, and then since the bathroom outlets were all equipped with GFIs of their own, he had to get an extension cord, plug that into the kitchen, and then plug the hairdryer with the new plug into the cord. All so he could kill himself with something of mine."

"Jesus."

Ji-yeong nodded. "He always told me he couldn't survive without me. About a year ago, after a really bad night, he slept in front of the door because he was worried that he'd finally gone too far." She added, darkly, "He hadn't."

"So when did it become enough? How'd you finally get out?"

"Well, he was at work, and he hadn't really touched me or even yelled at me for a few days, so he thought things were fine. Hell, I thought things were fine. Had to wear sunglasses every time I went out, but I'd been a good wife, so I was on top of the world. And I was looking through a recipe book, trying to decide what to make for dinner, and suddenly this voice in my head tells me, '

Get out now or you're going to die.

'

"It was like everything I'd been through over the last four, five years hit me at once..." It looked like it hurt Ji-yeong to even remember this. "I threw up. I actually threw up in the kitchen sink. And I didn't bother to clean it. I just grabbed a bag, packed it full of clothes, and left. Pulled a whole lot of spending money out of our joint account, took a bus to Portland, flew out from there."

"That was really brave."

"It was cowardly," she said. "I keep thinking if I just took ten more minutes to write him a letter, tell him he could be a good man—"

"He wouldn't have listened," I said. "And if he did, he'd just use it as an excuse to pull you back to him."

"Well, we'll never know, right?"

I shook my head. This was something I was a little familiar with, and something Ji-yeong probably didn't need to hear the full details of at the moment. "Just trust me," I said. "You did the right thing."

It took a moment for me to realize that we probably didn't have much left to say, so I decided to find another Bob Ross episode to turn on. We laid back, watching Ross make his happy accidents, and slowly let him help break in the silence between us.

And just when it had gotten comfortable, she looked at me and said it: "I'd do it again with you."

I looked back at her, caught between a suspicious mind and a sudden half-boner. "You mean...if things were different?"

"No, I mean, this morning was amazing," she said, "and I want more of that."

"...Okay," I said. "I mean, I'd love that. I'd really, really love that. But I don't..."

Ji-yeong placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "Look," she said, "Chad took a lot from me, but he hasn't turned me into tissue paper. I'm attracted to you, and the only regret I have about this morning is that I might have guilted you into something you didn't want. You told me downstairs that you'd still love me if you never had sex with me again; well, I feel the same way. If you don't feel comfortable, that's all that matters. We never even have to talk about it again if that's what you want. But if you're up for spending a little more quality time together...well, so am I."

Somehow most of the baggage just seemed to fall away in that moment. All I could see was this woman who I had known and admired all my life, whom I was suddenly seeing in a brand new light, and who had felt for me the way I felt for her.

I kissed her. Not like I did that morning on the couch; that was hungry and desperate. This was soft and tender.

She kissed back, of course. We closed our eyes and went by touch, feeling our wet, grainy tongues slip against each other.

Our hands just sort of fell on each other, our skin gently molding to our delicate grips as they explored our bodies.

Ji-yeong pulled away and asked to stop.

"Change your mind?" I asked. My half chub had turned into a full-fledged boner, but that's what the shower was for. If she didn't want to keep going, neither did I.

"Not at all," she assured me, "that was...that was really hot. It's just that...okay, can I guilt you a little more?"

"Guilt away." (If I could do this over again, I would've told her she wasn't "guilting" me about anything.)

"Okay, so Chad...our sex life was basically, he's frustrated or pissed or horny or whatever, so we'd go to bed, I'd take my pants off, he'd pump me for a few minutes, and I'd quietly finish myself off after he was done. It—it sucks, I know." She had read the look on my face, sparing me from having to point out for the millionth time that Chad was trash. "But it wasn't...that different from what we did downstairs—which was amazing for a spur-of-the-moment thing, plus you made sure I finished too, so please don't think that I actually hated—"

"I get it," I assured her, "don't worry."

"Good," she said. "I just, this could be the only other time we do this, and you mean too much to me for it to feel like just some hookup. I want to feel

sexy

. I want to feel like I'm having an effect on you."

"Not for nothing," I said, "but you're definitely having an effect on me."

"I'm glad," Ji-yeong giggled. "But I think I can do even better...and I just so happen to have some cash left over from the joint account. Would you maybe be willing to give me a ride to the mall?"

* * * * *

It seemed obvious that Ji-yeong was thinking Victoria's Secret, but she still refused to tell me outright. Didn't bother me; I had my own ideas that I wasn't willing to tell her about. I jumped over to Bed Bath & Beyond to grab some cheap king-size flat sheets; it didn't matter that the thread count was an itchy 250, I wasn't using them for bedding anyway. After a stop at Interloper, a local alt culture place, to pick up some incense sticks, I was back at the mall before she could text me to say she was done.

Ji-yeong carried her stuff in a large plastic Target bag to disguise whatever stores she shopped at; when I looked at the bag, she gave me this smile that was somewhere between dorky and lusty. It was about 5:30 by the time we left, so we stopped at a nearby diner to get dinner out of the way. We didn't talk much during dinner; we just gawked and grinned at each other while we played footsies under the table.

"So, I'm gonna shower, do my hair, all that stuff," she said when we finished our food. "It'll probably take me an hour, hour and a half. You just hang out in your room and I'll be up when I'm ready."

"I might have a better idea if you're interested."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Use my room and the upstairs bathroom to get ready," I said. "I'm gonna do some stuff downstairs, and when

I'm

ready, I'll call

you

down."

"Ooo!" Ji-yeong grinned that sexy-nerdy grin again, leaning across our table. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing you need to know," I smirked back. "I don't mean to take anything from you. I just think if you're going to put in all this effort for me, then you deserve a little effort back."

Ji-yeong shook her head. "How could you have possibly slipped through three sets of fingers?"

I shook my head. "It wasn't always their fault."

Ji-yeong was halfway through a shrug when a concern suddenly seemed to crash over her. Her head dropped just a bit.

"I'm sorry, did I—"

"No-no, it's not you! I think you should know..." Ji-yeong looked around, leaned in, dropped her voice to a whisper. "I, uh...I don't do...oral, either. I'm sorry, I just—"

"No no, that's okay." I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Giving or receiving? Or both?"

"Giving," she said. "I've never actually received, but since I'm not...giving, I won't be offended if I don't..." She finished with an indeterminate gesture that probably meant "receive."

"Sure, sure, don't sweat it," I said, and I meant it. I couldn't imagine a worse experience than a blowjob from somebody who didn't want to give me one. I wasn't going to force that issue.

However, I was all too happy to force the "never actually received" issue. No fucking way was I letting that slide.

* * * * *

When we got home, Ji-yeong went right upstairs and I waited around before sneaking out the back door of the house and getting my own things out of the trunk of my car.

I took stock of the den, mentally laying out what else I was going to need to set up what I was envisioning. From the garage, I grabbed some twine, sticky-tack, and a few emergency lanterns. After asking Ji-yeong via text to stay in my room for five minutes, I raided the linen closet upstairs and got everything else I needed, then ducked into the bathroom to grab my razor and shaving gel; I didn't want her first experience to come from a stubbled guy.

It took about an hour and a half to set up with all the various setbacks that come from hasty planning, and—for as long as it was taking me—another 15 minutes to decide how I should look to make it seem even more worth the wait. I settled on shirtless, in my black boxers, covered from the abs down by the soft white sheet on top of the couch cushions, throw pillows, and doubled-up comforter acting as bedding. Thankfully, I didn't keep Ji-yeong waiting too long; she'd only been ready for 20 minutes by the time I texted her with an apology. I told her it was clear to come down and meet me in the den.

I didn't tell her that I'd transformed the den into a gigantic blanket fort.

"WHAT?" I heard her shout after a shocked, hearty laugh, when I saw her silhouette approach through the thin bedsheet, hanging off the lines of twine I'd sticky-tacked from wall to wall.

"Come on in," I told her, in a voice that I probably only thought was smoldering.

"Really? Girls are allowed in here?"

"Of course," I laughed. "Especially sexy Korean girls with hearts of gold."

The shadow beyond the bedsheet entry didn't move. "Oh, I forgot," she mocked, "you nerds have a thing about Asian women."

I almost choked on my own spit from her sudden burn, but was able to quickly scrounge up what I thought was a solid parry. "That's

Japanese

women. We think they'll let us do weird stuff to them because of all the hentai that country makes."

God help me, I had walked right into it: "Oh, whatever," she said, "we all look alike to you anyway."

Six weeks ago, Ji-yeong had been living in fear of the man she married. Now she was roasting my nuts in the middle of our mutual seduction. This woman was fucking amazing. "Man," I said, "I know you didn't do all that shopping just to make fun of me for having the hots for you."

"I sure didn't," she said.

"So let me see what you've been doing for the last couple of hours."

"You're going to have to ask

really nicely

," she said. "You're making me crawl on my hands and knees to get to you, after all. Kind of a jerk move."

I smiled. "Please come in," I said. "I've been waiting so long and you're all I can think about. You're driving me crazy."

I could see her silhouette turn in profile, arms crossed. "Can't have that," she said, feather-soft.

"Yeah. It really sucks not having you in here with me."

After a few moments, the silhouette sank to her knees.

After a few moments more, Ji-yeong slipped inside, crawling carefully toward me; nervous, but not hesitant. She took in the scene around her.

I'd moved the coffee table out of the den, leaving a large swath of carpeted floor between the couch and the entertainment center. I'd covered the couch with red bedsheets because, as I mentioned, I'd taken off the cushions. Those cushions were arranged into the makeshift bed at the center of the room, where I laid in wait for her. The lanterns took the places of the cushions on the couch, but they were under the translucent red sheets, providing some nice diffused lighting to the fort. Of course I made sure the TV was in there; I went into YouTube and fired up a six-hour virtual fireplace, which gave the fort a subtle, romantic ambiance. Tying it all together was the small rain-scented incense stick slowly burning down at the head of our makeshift bed, its scent mingling with her sweet jasmine perfume which seemed to hang a little heavier in the air than usual.

Ji-yeong herself...well...the word "wow" comes to mind. Repeatedly. Even before I got a good look at how she was dressed; the way her hair hung down around her face, the sweet pink of her lips, the subtle boldness of the mascara that filled in her eyelashes, the slight shimmer of her rosy eyeshadow.

"Wow," I said, out loud.

Ji-yeong rose off her hands, sitting upright on her knees. She wore a dark, high-necked teddy that tapered down into a thong bottom. Lace covered her ample tits, her slim belly, her tight pussy; the rest of her chest was covered in a sexy gossamer mesh. She drew her hands from her hips, up her body, until she cupped her breasts. "You like it?" she asked, still clearly nervous, but relishing it.

In response, I pulled down the bedsheet, revealing the large tent in my dark boxers.

"Oh my," she gasped, eyes bulging. "So that's a yes, huh?"

I nodded, beckoning her over.

She needed only kneewalk a few steps before falling into me—a little faster than she anticipated. Our heads conked together, we smarted, then we giggled and kissed, inhaling the sweet mint of each other's breath as our tongues danced together, playfully, politely.

There was no rush, no frenzy of uncontrolled lust. Looking back, it was hard to call this "lovemaking" as I don't think we were truly in love at that point. This was passionate mercy, mixed with admiration and lust and a little curiosity to create something that was akin to love the way cubic zirconia was akin to diamond. We explored, gently, permissively, savoring each other's shapes, enjoying each other's tastes, relishing our little reactions to every little move we made on each other. I don't know how long we spent just making out; it felt like hours, and I could have easily done more if not for the pressing need to see more of her.

She got the idea when I managed to undo the clasp at the back of her neck, and pulled away so I could take in all of her. The collar fell slightly from her neck, but the straps were still on her shoulders, keeping everything up, if only barely.

"Show me," I said.

She cocked her head and smiled, bringing her hands up to her scrunched shoulders. She pulled one strap over and free, then the other, before slowly, slowly peeling the teddy down her skin, teasing out the perfect prominence of her chest before revealing the reddish-brown dollar-coin-sized summits of her golden breasts.

"Jesus, you're beautiful," I said with what little breath I had left while she pulled her teddy midway down her stomach. The comment charmed her briefly into shyness before she dropped back down to kiss me some more, her naked flesh pressing into my own, burning us up. I began to inch her slowly upward, until I was kissing her neck, then her collarbone, then her chest, until my face was between those two sweetest swells of her skin. We rose to a seated position; she cradled my head and filled my mouth with one teat or another, while the mixed scents of her perfume's sweet flora and the fresh rainfall from the incense filled my nostrils and sent even more blood rushing to my cock.

Eventually, her curiosity became too much. When I felt her hand on my rigid shaft, I knew it was time to let her take her turn. I laid back down, and she slid down my body. No kisses, of course; she told me she wasn't comfortable taking me in her mouth, and she didn't want to make me think otherwise.

"You really filled me up before," said Ji-yeong, reaching down to the hem of my boxers. "I'm so curious about what it looks like..." I lifted my hips, inviting her to pull my shorts down, which she did. She got them down to my knees before she just stopped and looked at my erection.

"Oh," was all she said at first. But the expression said a lot more; she was mesmerized by what she saw.

"Is that..." I didn't want to sound too cavalier about this. I was going to relish the point, but there were bigger issues to consider here than measuring up to a dead woman-beating prick. "Is that bigger than...what you're used to?"

"No, Chad was a little longer," she quickly said, which...so much for my "point," I guess. "But yours is, like...thick, and smooth, and...there are these subtle veins..." She began to trace one with her finger up and down my shaft; maybe I had the point after all. "And your balls are so round..." She cupped them with the delicate fingers of her free hand. "And so heavy...I just..."