The living room, usually a space of quiet calm, was now buzzing with a different kind of energy. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and freshly brewed coffee, and the soft hum of polite conversation filled the space.
Linda, Karen, Sarah, Susan, and Diane had orchestrated a masterstroke: a casual "ladies' afternoon gathering." Every woman on their list, except for the primary target Ms. Park was present.
Mrs. Kim sat with a poised elegance. Her grey hair was swept up, but a few soft strands curled against her slender neck. She wore a high-collared lavender blouse of fine silk that whispered against her skin with every move.
It was buttoned to the throat, making you notice the delicate line of her neck and the elegant bones of her wrists. The soft fabric hinted at the graceful slope of her shoulders and the long, straight line of her back that curved gently into soft, rounded hips.
Her skirt fell to her mid-calf, emphasizing the slenderness of her ankles and the quiet grace of her pose. She was the picture of contained and elegant sensuality.
Mrs. Lee was a vision of cool elegance. Her severe black chignon sharpened her cheekbones. Her expensive silk shirtdress, buttoned to the throat, traced her body like a map. The fine fabric skimmed over the full, high curve of her breasts, which made the cloth pull taut with her every breath.
Beneath that, her waist was dramatically narrow, a sharp contrast to the lush, rounded curve of her hips that promised a hypnotic sway when she walked. She was a woman of sensual contrasts, wrapped in a cool, elegant package.
Ms. Choi checked her smartwatch with a modern, corporate grace. Her asymmetric blonde bob was sharp and precise, brushing her jawline and drawing attention to her smooth neck.
Her cream knit top fitted her trim, athletic frame softly, hinting at toned shoulders and a flat stomach. The trousers had sharp creases that highlighted the long, lean line of her legs, all speaking of minimalist, expensive taste.
Ms. Han scrolled with a comfortable, sighing allure. The light from her phone lit up the faint freckles on her skin. Her auburn hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, with strands escaping around her face.
Her oversized cardigan had slipped off one shoulder, showing a glimpse of smooth skin and a tank top strap underneath. The soft wool couldn't hide the gentle curve of her breasts or the pleasant roundness of her hips in her dark jeans, giving her a warm, approachable feel.
Mrs. Kang held her teacup with a comforting, soft presence. Her floral tunic was roomy, draping over her full, pillowy bust and rounded shoulders. The fabric strained just slightly across her broad back, hinting at a soft waist and the comfortable, generous swell of her hips below. She had a relaxed, maternal grace that was deeply comforting.
Ms. Yoon perched on her stool. Her geometric scarf drew the eye to her delicate collarbones and a neck that seemed too slender for her restless energy. Her fitted clothes showed a lean, angular frame with slim wrists adorned with several silver rings. Her choppy dark hair and black-framed glasses gave her an artistic, intellectual intensity.
Mrs. Shin offered cookies with a gentle, apologetic smile. Her simple cotton dress, though faded, showed a softness beneath. It draped over the gentle slope of her bust and the quiet curve of her hips. The way she moved suggested a yielding, comfortable body, and her hand-knitted shawl added to her feeling of warm, tired kindness.
Ms. Song observed the room with a quiet, artistic focus. Her loose linen smock dress shifted with her, sometimes catching the outline of her small, firm breasts and the subtle curve of her waist.
Faint paint smudges near the pocket spoke of her passion. Her cropped silver hair framed a face of laugh lines and a long, elegant neck, showing a woman completely comfortable and confident in her own skin.
Mrs. Min sat very straight, her expression one of polite judgment. Her makeup was flawless, with perfect red lips. Her navy sheath dress was impeccably tailored, tracing the lines of a disciplined figure.
It followed the neat shape of her bust, the defined line of her waist, and the firm, mature curve of her hips without a single flaw. She was polished to perfection, from the single string of real pearls to her unwavering posture.
Ms. Bae, the youngest, seemed to try and fold herself away into the background. Her plain grey hoodie and collared shirt hid a slender, youthful build. The baggy clothes hinted at narrow shoulders and slim hips.
She kept her hands tucked into her sleeves, suggesting delicate wrists and fine-boned fingers, her entire posture whispering of a quiet, unassuming prettiness.
Mrs. Jung had a capable, earthy strength about her. Her sturdy corduroy skirt showed solid, shapely thighs, and her tweed jacket stretched across a strong back and full, practical breasts.
Her hands were broad with short, unpolished nails, hands that worked. A small bird brooch on her lapel was a touch of gentle beauty on a sturdy, resilient frame.
Ms. Oh arrived slightly breathless, a burst of vibrant energy. Her formal fuchsia dress was a little too much, but it fit her well, emphasizing a narrow waist that flared out to noticeably round hips.
A few strands of hair curled at her damp temples, and the neckline offered a tempting glimpse of soft cleavage. She was a woman of lush, noticeable curves and bright, flustered energy.
Mrs. Suh arranged her napkin with quiet, precise elegance. Every item of her beige and coffee-brown outfit was perfectly coordinated. Her cashmere twin-set suggested a slim, maintained figure with a modest bust and a neat waist.
Her tailored slacks showed long, slender legs. Her classic watch was the final touch on a look that spoke of understated wealth and meticulous self-control.
Ms. Kwon chose the center cushion, confident and magnetic. She leaned forward, her movement causing her silk camisole to dip and show the smooth, pale swell of her breasts. Her silver pendant swung free, drawing the eye down her front.
She had a noticeable hourglass figure—a narrow waist that curved into generous hips. She held her teacup like a cocktail, her smile lingering, her lush perfume hinting at a playful, knowing energy that invited the imagination.
(I have described all the females here, so that I don't have to waste time describing them during sex. If it seems boring, just bare with it, cause it will keep the flow straight during sex scene or probably I should call it orgy.)
They were all there, a cross-section of the neighborhood's feminine discontent, sipping tea and nibbling on cookies, utterly unaware of the agenda Susan and others had planned.
The initial chatter was light, compliments on the decor, complaints about the weather, the usual grievances about husbands and boyfriends.
"My Jong-su, he's married to his desk, I tell you," Mrs. Kim sighed, not for the first time. "I sometimes feel like a piece of furniture."
"At least yours is working," Mrs. Lee replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Mine is married to the golf course. I could dance naked on the green and he'd ask me to move, I'm blocking his putt."
A ripple of knowing laughter went through the room.
Ms. Han put her phone down with a thud. "Video games. That's my competition. A glowing screen and a headset. He doesn't hear a word I say."
Linda saw her opening. She exchanged a quick, meaningful glance with the other four. It was time.
"You know," Linda began, her voice smooth and conversational, cutting through the complaints. "It's funny hearing you all say that. It reminds me of how I used to feel. All of us, really." She gestured to Karen, Sarah, Susan, and Diane, who all nodded with sincere, somber expressions.
"Used to?" Mrs. Shin asked, her eyebrow arched curiously.
"Oh, absolutely," Karen chimed in, leaning forward. "My husband? A good provider, yes. But as a man? The spark died years ago. It was… routine. Dutiful. I felt more like a roommate than a wife."
A murmur of agreement circled the room. They all understood.
"But now…" Sarah continued, her voice taking on a dreamy, faraway quality. A genuine blush crept up her neck. "Now, I finally understand what it means to be with a real man. A man who doesn't see you as furniture or a distraction."
All eyes were on them now. The curiosity was palpable.
"Who are you talking about?" Ms. Kwon asked, her flirtatious nature instantly piqued. "Did you all find some secret male model agency?"
Diane giggled, a light, happy sound. "Just one man. His name is Samuel."
"Samuel?" Mrs. Kim repeated. "The handsome son of Esther? I've seen him jogging. Very… fit."
"That's the one," Susan said, her eyes shining. "And 'fit' doesn't even begin to cover it. He's… everything."
Linda decided to go for the jugular. "He took us to Jeju Island last week. All of us."
A stunned silence fell over the room. Fourteen pairs of eyes widened in shock.
"All of you? Together?" Ms. Yoon, the recent divorcee, asked, her voice a mixture of scandal and intense interest.
"Together," Karen confirmed, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "And it was the single greatest experience of my life. The sex… oh, my god, the sex."
"Karen!" Mrs. Kim gasped, but she was leaning forward, not looking away.
"No, it needs to be said," Sarah insisted, her own inhibitions melting away under the need to praise Samuel. "In just four days, he gave me more pleasure, more times, than my husband did in twenty years.
It's not just… doing it. It's an event. He focuses on you completely, like you are the only woman in the world in that moment. He knows exactly how to touch you, where to kiss you… he makes you feel things you didn't even know you could feel."
"It's true," Diane added, her voice hushed but fervent. "He has this… energy. This stamina. He can go for hours, making sure each and every one of us is completely, utterly satisfied.
Screaming his name, begging for more, even when we can't possibly take it." She fanned her flushed face with her hand, the memory overwhelming her.
"But… how?" Mrs. Lee asked, her boredom completely replaced by rapt attention. "Why would he… with all of you?"
"Because he can," Linda stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "His libido is… astronomical. He needs it. And he has the strength and the generosity to handle multiple women, to give us all the attention we've been starving for.
He even married his own mother, she was his first and now she's the head wife, that's how devoted he is to the women he loves."
This new bombshell left them speechless. The taboo of it only added to his mystique, painting him as a man beyond conventional rules.
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