黑帮三三

The morning fog over Yedong City’s harbor was thick and salty, carrying the scent of diesel and fish. Park Daegun stood at the edge of the pier, his squat, muscular frame planted like a stump against the damp wind. At 155 centimeters, he was the shortest man on the dock, but his shoulders were broad as an ox yoke, his hands calloused from years of knuckle work. Behind him, two dozen of his best men waited in silence, their eyes scanning the gray water.

The ship emerged from the mist like a ghost—a sleek Chinese cargo vessel with no markings but the kind of polished hull that meant money and power. Daegun straightened his jacket, a cheap thing that strained across his chest. He’d worn it to look respectable, though the collar was already frayed.

As the gangplank lowered with a groan of metal, two figures stepped onto the pier. The first was a woman who seemed to command the light itself. Yi Meier stood 175 centimeters tall, her wavy chestnut hair catching the weak sun and turning it to copper. Her face was the kind that belonged in classical paintings—soft eyes that held a mother’s warmth, full lips that curved in a gentle, knowing smile. She wore a cream-colored silk blouse that did nothing to hide the generous swell of her breasts, and tailored trousers that hugged her long legs and the subtle flare of her hips. Every movement she made was unhurried, deliberate, as if she understood exactly how much space she occupied in the world.

Beside her, Li Qing walked with a careful gait, five centimeters shorter than his fiancée. He was slender, almost delicate, with fine-boned wrists and a face that was handsome in an understated way. His nickname, Guiyi, meant “turtle one,” a playful reference to his family’s Black Tortoise Gang. The moniker had never bothered him. He wore a simple black suit, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes were bright with curiosity.

Daegun stepped forward and gave a short bow, his voice rough but respectful. “Welcome, first speakers of both gangs. I’ve arranged a seaside inn for your stay. The best accommodations I could manage on short notice.”

Meier’s smile was gentle as she extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Park. We appreciate the hospitality.”

The handshake was firm. Li Qing nodded in greeting, saying nothing.

Daegun gestured to a black sedan idling at the edge of the lot. “Please. The car is this way.”

They drove through the winding coastal roads of Yedong City, the sea on one side, cliffs of tangled greenery on the other. Daegun sat in the front passenger seat, twisting around to face his guests. “I’ll be direct,” he said. “The Takezumi Group has been making moves. They think they can come onto our island, cut out the Daemun Gang, and take over the underground business. They’ve already hurt my father.”

Li Qing raised an eyebrow. “We heard about that. Your father is recovering?”

“He will,” Daegun said, his jaw tightening. “But I’m the acting boss now. And I need allies. The Blue Dragon and Black Tortoise have controlled the main trade routes for decades. Together, we could squeeze the Japanese out before they plant roots.”

Meier’s gaze was fixed on the ocean beyond the window. “We’ve noticed their movements,” she said slowly. “Unusual shipments. New faces in the bars and warehouses. But we need to investigate further before committing to anything.”

Daegun leaned forward, his voice urgent. “Please, Miss Yi. You don’t understand. My men have intercepted communications. They’re planning something big—something that could destabilize every gang on this island.”

Li Qing held up a hand. “Brother, I understand your worry. But the Blue Dragon is still the largest power here. The Takezumi can’t move fast. Why don’t we take a few days to see the island? Tour the sights. Rest. People like us—we send our subordinates to manage our territories here, but we’ve never set foot on Yedong City ourselves. It’d be a waste not to enjoy it.”

Daegun stared at him for a moment, then let out a breath. “You’re right. That’s wise. Let me first take you to your gangs’ local offices—pay respects, let them know you’re here. Then the inn.”

The offices passed in a blur of handshakes, tea, and formalities. Low-level lieutenants bowed and reported numbers that Meier and Li Qing absorbed with practiced ease. By the time they reached the seaside inn, the sun was dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.

The inn was a modest two-story building built into the cliffside, its wooden balconies overlooking a private cove. Daegun parked and walked them to the entrance. “I wanted to book you into the Grasse Hotel—five stars, top floor suites,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s under renovation. The moment it reopens, I’ll host you properly. For now, this place is clean and quiet.”

Meier touched his arm. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Mr. Park.”

Daegun nodded, got back in his car, and drove away without another word.

Inside the room, the air smelled of salt and cedar. Li Qing kicked off his shoes and lay back on the large bed, remote in hand, flicking through local channels. The murmur of Korean variety shows filled the space.

Meier disappeared into the bathroom. The shower ran for a long time, steam curling under the door.

When she emerged, Li Qing’s thumb paused over the remote.

She wore a black lace chemise that clung to every curve of her body—the generous weight of her breasts, the narrow waist, the full, rounded hips. Her damp hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and her skin glowed from the heat.

She padded across the wooden floor and flopped onto the bed beside him, stretching like a cat, her arms arching above her head. The movement made the lace shift, and Li Qing swallowed.

“Busy watching TV?” she murmured, her voice low and honeyed.

“Not anymore.”

She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. Her eyes, warm and full of love, traced his face. “My little turtle. I missed you today.”

“You were with me the whole time.”

“And I still missed you.”

She slid her hand down his chest, over his stomach, and found the front of his trousers. He was already half-hard. Her fingers teased the waistband before slipping inside, wrapping around his small shaft. It thickened in her grip, reaching its full length—barely eight centimeters.

Her smile never faded. She lowered her head and took him into her mouth, her lips sealing around him, her tongue working in slow circles. Li Qing let out a shuddering breath, his head falling back. “Ah… Meier…”

She moved with care, with tenderness. He was not a large man, and he never satisfied her in the way other men might have, but she did not know or care about such things. To her, this was love. This was enough.

After a few minutes, she rose and straddled him. The lace chemise was gone. Her bare body was a masterpiece—full breasts, a flat stomach, the soft curve of her thighs. She guided him inside her, sinking down, and the sensation of her warmth wrapping around him made his whole body tremble.

Even at full height, he could not reach her deepest places. He nestled inside her like a seed in soft earth. She began to move, her hips rolling in a slow rhythm, her hair brushing his face, her lips pressing gentle kisses to his forehead.

Five minutes passed. Maybe less. Li Qing’s breath grew ragged, his hands clutching her hips as a wave of pleasure crashed through him. His body seized, a long groan escaping his throat as he released—a thin, sparse seed with barely any scent, almost translucent.

He collapsed, panting, his face flushed. “Ugh… ah… I need to rest for half a month after that.”

Meier settled beside him, her body still warm, and kissed his cheek. “You worked hard.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. They lay face to face, his nose brushing hers, and within minutes, both were asleep, tangled in each other, her large frame cradling his smaller one.

The sound of the waves lulled them deeper.

Outside, the moon rose over Yedong City, and in the shadows of the harbor, unfamiliar boats docked in silence, unloading cargo that no one had ordered.

After shaking off their pursuers, the fuel situation for both vessels looked grim. The two boats drifted through unfamiliar waters, uncertain of their location. Park Dae-geun's battered fishing boat had nearly run dry, its engine sputtering with each passing minute. Yimir's luxurious yacht still had some fuel remaining, enough that she could tow the smaller craft behind her.

Through his telescope, Park Dae-geun spotted something on the horizon. A small, uninhabited island emerged from the sea mist. He recognized it from old maps as Hae Snake Island, a desolate patch of land far removed from the main shipping routes and leagues away from Black Gold Island where the Dragon Gang operated. The island was notorious only for its venomous snake population and complete lack of fresh water sources.

He picked up the radio. "Yimir, there's an island up ahead. Hae Snake Island. Should we head for it?"

Yimir's voice crackled back through the speaker. "Our fuel situation doesn't give us much choice. Let's make for the natural harbor I see on the charts. We'll hole up there and wait for support."

They navigated into the sheltered bay, where the contrast between the two boats became starkly apparent. Yimir's massive yacht towered over Park Dae-geun's humble fishing vessel. The smaller boat nestled against the larger one like a child seeking comfort from a parent.

After securing the vessels, Yimir radioed Lee Cheong. "We've made landfall on Hae Snake Island. How soon can you get a pickup organized?"

Lee Cheong's voice came through, heavy with frustration. "It's going to take a while, I'm afraid. The Jukki Group has sent thugs to block all the refueling points. I have to wait for the main base to send out a larger vessel. That'll take about three days. There's some good news though. I hear the Daemun Gang sabotaged the Jukki Group's boats. They won't be able to attack you from the sea anymore. How are you and Dae-geun holding up?"

"We're fine. Don't worry about us," Yimir replied, her voice steady despite the exhaustion she felt. She ended the transmission.

The two of them made their way onto the island. Yimir had stripped down to her only remaining clean clothes, a crisp white blouse and a simple black skirt. She walked alongside Park Dae-geun as they explored their temporary home.

A narrow path led inland, but it had been so long since anyone had used it that wild grass grew tall on both sides, brushing against their legs as they walked. They found a small, dilapidated house. Its roof sagged in places, and the windows were either broken or missing entirely. Dust covered every surface inside. No one had lived here for years, maybe decades. They were completely alone on this island.

As evening fell, they gathered driftwood on the beach and built a campfire. The flames cast dancing shadows across the sand as the sky darkened overhead. Yimir stared into the fire, her face illuminated by the orange glow.

"Why did you come for me?" she asked, her voice soft. "You could have left with Lee Cheong, gone in the same direction as him."

Park Dae-geun met her gaze. "I figured those Jukki Group bastards wanted to kill you, to use your death to cripple the Dragon Gang. I know exactly what kind of scum those people are. I had to protect you. And the truth is, I've always felt something for you. I—"

Before he could finish, Yimir leaned in and kissed him. The kiss started gentle but quickly deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Their lips moved against each other as if trying to make up for lost time. Her tongue found his, and they explored each other's mouths with growing intensity. The kiss seemed to last forever, each second more heated than the last.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Yimir spoke. "All my life, I've worked to maintain control. For the gang, for my family. Lee Cheong has loved me since we were kids, and I've always looked out for him, protected him. He sees me as someone he wants to marry, but I've always seen him as a younger brother. I know our marriage would cement the alliance between the Dragon Gang and the Black Turtle Clan. It's what's expected. But you... you're the only one who's ever been willing to risk everything for me, who treats me as someone worth protecting. I think I feel something for you. But I've been suppressing it, pushing it down because I didn't want to face it. I... I..."

"I know," Park Dae-geun said, cutting her off gently. "You know what I love about you, Yimir? It's exactly this. Even if you marry Lee Cheong, I don't care. I just want to know that somewhere in your heart, there's room for more than just the gang and family and Lee Cheong. I want to be there too. If you can love me, if you can hold a place for me in your heart, that's all I need. I love you, Dragon Gang boss lady. I love you, Yimir."

The uncertainty in her eyes faded, replaced by something fierce and determined. She stood up slowly and began to undress. The white blouse fell to the sand, then the black skirt. Under the moonlight, her body was revealed, her full breasts bare to the night air. Without a word, she turned and walked toward the abandoned house. Halfway there, she looked back over her shoulder, a clear invitation in her eyes. If you truly love me, her look said, show me the courage of a man who knows what he wants.

Park Dae-geun rose to his feet, his erection already straining against his pants. He walked toward her, matching her pace, and together they entered the decrepit building.

Inside the abandoned house, the sounds of wild lovemaking echoed through the broken walls. Park Dae-geun gripped Yimir's hips as he thrust into her from behind, each movement powerful and relentless. She turned her head and kissed him, a smile playing at her lips. His hands found her breasts, cupping them roughly, squeezing as he continued his rhythm. One of her arms reached back to wrap around his neck while her other hand reached down to spread herself open, accommodating his impressive size.

After thirty minutes, he spilled his first load inside her. The thick, copious semen flooded her depths, the warmth of it causing her to tremble and moan uncontrollably. The ejaculation seemed to go on forever, three full minutes before he finally stopped.

Without hesitation, Yimir sank to her knees. She took his still-hard member in her mouth, working it with skill and obvious affection. Her lips curved into a lewd smile around him as she sucked. The cock remained rigid, showing no signs of fatigue.

Their second round began. By the time the fourth session rolled around, an hour had passed. Park Dae-geun decided they should move to the boat. He scooped Yimir up in his arms and carried her toward his small fishing vessel. Along the way, she kept kissing his face, planting soft pecks on his cheeks and jaw. It was clear that her feelings were genuine.

The small boat rocked gently in the water, then began to move more vigorously as they made love aboard. Yimir's moans filled the night air, each one laced with pleasure and joy. They continued through the darkness, round after round, until the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. He came inside her more than a dozen times.

At ten o'clock the next morning, Park Dae-geun woke up on his fishing boat. Sunlight streamed through the small cabin windows. Yimir appeared in the doorway, carrying food she had brought from her yacht. She walked over to him and bent down, kissing him gently on the forehead.

"The sun is burning your ass, you sleepyhead," she said, her voice warm with affection. A soft smile played across her lips.

The radio crackled, and Li Qing's voice cut through the static. "Yi Mei'er, listen to me. My boat needs some paperwork before we can set sail. Can you wait another five days?"

Yi Mei'er had her mouth full, and she tried to speak around it, but only muffled sounds came out. "Mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mmm—that's not good."

Li Qing frowned at the strange noise. "Huh? What are you eating?"

Yi Mei'er froze, realizing she was still in the middle of things with Pu Dagen. She pulled away, licking her lips, and scrambled for a lie. "Ah, well, I'm on my yacht having a popsicle. I can't stop—it'll melt. I'll just eat and talk."

Li Qing bought it. "Oh, okay. Do you have enough supplies?"

The sounds from Yi Mei'er's mouth were unmistakable now—wet, sucking noises as she went back to what she was doing. "Mm... yeah... slurp... mm, so big. Oh right, the supplies are pretty big. I mean, plenty. Enough."

They talked for several more minutes, and Li Qing eventually decided everything was fine on her end. He hung up, satisfied.

On that deserted island, the two of them had just confirmed their love for each other. But they both knew: back home, this would be a secret forever, something the Li family must never know. They spent the day wandering the beach. Pu Dagen sat in the sand, took a long drink from a coconut, then turned and sucked on Yi Mei'er's nipple while he kept his arm around her. He was completely at ease. Yi Mei'er, now in love with him, let him do whatever he wanted. One of her hands idly played with his manhood. They made love in the open air, then moved to the bow of her big yacht, and later that night they kissed passionately, showered together.

She pouted, complaining, "You're so annoying—you never stop."

Later, she changed into a white one-piece bikini and asked, "Well? Do you like it?"

Pu Dagen scooped her up in a princess carry. She let out an excited scream. They were inseparable, glued to each other.

A few days passed, and Li Qing arrived with a fuel tanker. Yi Mei'er and Pu Dagen greeted him as if nothing had happened between them, maintaining their usual friendly demeanor. Yi Mei'er went up to Li Qing and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for coming," she said.

Pu Dagen added, "I thought I'd be stuck as a savage forever, brother Li. It's a relief you showed up—now we can finally go home."

The three of them talked and laughed, just like always. No one could tell anything was different.

A month later, Li Qing and Yi Mei'er got married. The union symbolized the lasting friendship between the Qinglong and Xuanwu gangs. Pu Dagen approached Yi Mei'er. "Congratulations. And you look beautiful in that dress."

She thanked him.

After the wedding, Li Qing was supposed to take his wife home, but an emergency at a Xuanwu branch forced him to leave. He asked the one person he trusted: Pu Dagen. "Can you drive her home for me?"

Pu Dagen agreed. In the back seat, Yi Mei'er sat in her gorgeous wedding gown. When the car reached a deserted stretch of road, Pu Dagen checked that no one was around and turned into a nearby reed field. Soon the car began to shake.

They kissed passionately, making love inside. Pu Dagen whispered, "You look amazing in that wedding dress."

Yi Mei'er was breathless. "Do you like it?"

"Very much."

They stayed for an hour before finally heading back.

A few days later, Yi Mei'er and Li Qing, now a married couple, had a coffee date in town, laughing and chatting as if they were deeply in love. No one would ever know the secret between Yi Mei'er and Pu Dagen.

One evening, Yi Mei'er wore a red high-slit dress. The daring cut revealed a hint of her breasts, and the slit ran high up her thigh, showing off black lace stockings. Her hair flowed loose. Li Qing asked, "Dressed so fancy—where are you off to?"

"Oh, the Damen Gang is celebrating their 40th anniversary today. They invited me."

"I see. Be careful, then." Li Qing was naive enough to believe her.

In a secret room beneath the Wager Grass Five-Star Hotel, Pu Dagen and Yi Mei'er kissed deeply. They spent five hours in bed, going at it endlessly.

"Mm, stay with me a little longer," she murmured.

Pu Dagen said, "Tonight I'm going to fuck you to exhaustion."

"Now that's more like it," she replied.

Suddenly her phone rang. She answered, and her tone and posture instantly shifted back to that of the confident boss lady. "Yeah? Ah, little sis. What's wrong? No one picked you up at the dock?"

Pu Dagen whispered, "I can send my younger brother, Pu Jingshuo, to pick up your sister. What's her name?"

"Yi Ke'er."

Pu Dagen made a quick call, giving orders to his brother, then turned his attention back to Yi Mei'er. They continued their deep connection, oblivious to the world.

Neither Pu Jingshuo nor Yi Ke'er knew about the secret relationship. Pu Jingshuo thought it was just normal business between gang leaders. Yi Ke'er believed her sister's marriage to Li Qing was legitimate. So the hidden affair remained hidden.

And so the story of Yi Mei'er and Pu Dagen comes to a close for now. Next, the tale of Yi Ke'er, Li Tianhe, and Pu Jingshuo begins—but that will be for another chapter. Stay tuned.

The salty breeze off the East Sea whipped through the open windows of the black sedan as Park Jeong-seok pulled into the parking lot near Pier 7 of Yedong City, Black Gold Island. He cut the engine and let out a low grunt, flexing his thick, muscular arms. At only 158 centimeters tall, he was a compact powerhouse, his face unremarkable and a little ugly, but his body was a testament to years of brutal training. His phone buzzed as he reached for the door handle.

"Hyung-nim," came the eager voice of one of his younger gang members. "I found you a real gem tonight. A whore, fresh and pretty. You want her?"

Park Jeong-seok scowled. "I'm busy today. I have to pick someone up at the dock."

"Aigoo, what a coincidence! She's at the dock right now. Just take a look, hyung-nim. Check the merchandise."

Park Jeong-seok paused, his hand hovering over the door latch. The ferry from the mainland wasn't due for at least another thirty minutes, maybe more. He could spare five minutes. A wicked grin spread across his plain face. *Why not? If she's really beautiful, I'll send her to my private villa to wait. I'll finish this business, then have some real fun.* He chuckled to himself. "Fine. I'll take a look."

He stepped out of the car, adjusting his expensive leather jacket. The docks were bustling with late-night activity—fishermen repairing nets, stevedores shouting orders, and the occasional pair of lovers whispering in the shadows. He spotted her immediately.

She stood near the railing, gazing out at the dark water. She was tall—at least 176 centimeters, he guessed—with long, straight black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall of ink. Her eyes were sharp, focused, and carried a dangerous allure that could steal a man's soul. Her body was a vision of curves: a full, round bust straining against the fabric of a high-slit black cheongsam, the slit running up to her hip, revealing long legs sheathed in black stockings. The dress was cut low in the front, exposing the deep valley of her breasts, which were pressed so tightly together they seemed about to burst free. Her porcelain skin glowed under the dim pier lights.

Park Jeong-seok's breath hitched. *Jackpot.*

He swaggered over to her, his eyes crawling over every inch of her figure. She turned as he approached, her lips parting.

"You're here," she said, her voice low and melodic. "I—"

He pressed a finger gently against her lips, silencing her. He gave her a confident, predatory smile. "I know you're waiting for me. And I've been waiting for you too. But tonight, I have another job to do first. Here's the address of my Second Division headquarters. Well, it's just a big villa where I live alone. Take this key. Make yourself at home—really, make yourself comfortable. Actually, I suggest you take a bath first. Wait for me, baby."

Before she could react, he slid a spare key from his pocket and tucked it into the small handbag she carried. Then, emboldened by her silence—which he read as acceptance—he slid an arm around her shoulders. Her body stiffened, but his lust was already rising. His hand slid down from her shoulder, over her side, and landed squarely on the fullness of her breast, squeezing roughly.

The air froze.

Her eyes, which had been merely sharp, now blazed with a killing fury. She didn't scream. She didn't flinch. She simply grabbed his wrist, twisted it with surgical precision, and *crack*.

"Ahhhhh! Fuck!" Park Jeong-seok's knees buckled as searing pain shot up his arm. He hit the concrete hard, cradling his dislocated wrist. "That's too much! Even if you don't want to provide the service, you don't treat a customer like that!"

She looked down at him with icy disdain. "I am Yi Ke'er, the second-in-command of the Qinglong Gang. No one has ever dared to insult me so lightly. I should leave you with a permanent reminder of your manners."

His eyes went wide. "Qinglong Gang? Yi Ke'er? The one—the one my hyung said to pick up? You're Yi Meier's sister?" He scrambled to his knees, sweat beading on his forehead. "Mistake! I thought you were—never mind. Please let me go. I'm Park Jeong-seok, the acting boss of Daemun Gang. I'm the younger brother of Park Dae-geun. I came here personally, on my brother's orders, to receive you with full respect."

Yi Ke'er released his wrist with a dismissive flick. "So you're the contact my sister mentioned."

Park Jeong-seok stood, straightening his jacket and brushing off his pants with as much dignity as he could muster. He cleared his throat. "Welcome, Miss Yi Ke'er. That was a complete misunderstanding. I'm actually a very proper gentleman. Please don't let this incident color your impression."

At that moment, a panting young gangster jogged up to the pier, dragging a heavily made-up, garish woman by the arm. "Hyung-nim! Sorry, this bitch got lost on the way. But here she is—I brought her myself! Look, isn't she fine? Want me to take her to your private villa for you?"

Park Jeong-seok's face turned the color of a ripe tomato. He covered his eyes with his good hand, wishing the concrete would swallow him whole. His idiot subordinate had just brought the real prostitute, right in front of the woman he'd just groped.

Yi Ke'er watched the scene with a slow, knowing smile. "So," she said, her voice dripping with amused contempt, "you're that kind of 'proper gentleman,' are you?"

Without waiting for an answer, she walked past him, opened the passenger door of his sedan, and slid inside. "Let's go. Take me to the private beach villa that your gang prepared for me. I trust you know where it is."

Park Jeong-seok lowered his hand, shot a murderous glare at his stunned subordinate, and muttered, "I'll deal with you later." He climbed into the driver's seat, his wrist throbbing.

As the car pulled away from the pier, he filled the silence with nervous apologies. "Miss Yi, I swear, I didn't know. I would never have touched you if I'd known who you were. Please don't let this incident damage the relationship between our gangs. The Daemun Gang holds the Qinglong Gang in the highest regard. My brother wants nothing but a strong alliance."

Yi Ke'er gazed out the window, watching the city lights blur past. She said nothing for a long moment, letting his words hang in the stale air of the car. Finally, she replied, "Drive faster. I'm tired."

Park Jeong-seok swallowed hard and pressed the accelerator. His wrist screamed in protest, but he said nothing. He had a long night ahead of him—and a long explanation to give his brother.

Three days later, Park Jeong-seok arrived at the Black Tortoise Gang's second branch on the island. He greeted Li Tian, the second son of Brother Li Qing's second younger brother—Li Qing being one of the many sons of the previous generation's leader. Park Jeong-seok said, "Second-in-command Li Tian, you've only been on the island for a week. Are you getting used to living here? Looks like you're like me, stuck guarding a branch all alone."

Li Tian was a 27-year-old Chinese man, 170 centimeters tall, with an average, slightly thin build. His erect penis measured only about 9 centimeters, and his semen was thin, with sparse, low-activity sperm. He replied, "Ah, you're wrong. It's two people now. You know, my fiancée came with me."

Park Jeong-seok raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh, is that so? Who's the woman who could capture the heart of Black Tortoise Gang's second-in-command, Li Tian?"

Just then, a beautiful woman in a business suit came down the stairs, her face lit up with a cute smile as she called out to Li Tian, "Darling, look what I found. A cat, isn't it adorable?"

The woman was Yi Ke'er. When she spotted Park Jeong-seok, her expression instantly hardened into that of a proud, strong-willed woman. "Well, well, if it isn't Park Jeong-seok, the second-in-command of the Gate Gang."

Li Tian's mouth fell open. "Ah... this..."

Li Qing, who had been standing nearby, interjected, "Oh, so you two know each other? I was just about to take you to the Gate Gang's second branch. I'll lead the way."

Yi Ke'er gave a sly smile. "I don't think that'll be necessary. For certain reasons, I already know the location. Isn't that right, Mr. Park Jeong-seok?"

Park Jeong-seok pretended to look around at the scenery, trying to hide his embarrassment and awkwardness. Li Tian looked curious. "What's going on?"

Yi Ke'er waved it off. "Nothing, just a trivial matter. It's not important."

Li Tian decided not to press further. If Yi Ke'er said it was nothing, then it was nothing. Park Jeong-seok turned and walked away. As he left, Yi Ke'er and Li Tian kissed each other on the cheek, very intimate. Halfway down the path, Park Jeong-seok turned back, stuck out his tongue in a mocking gesture at Yi Ke'er, and said, "Stupid woman," making a "nyeh nyeh nyeh" sound.

Yi Ke'er's face flushed with anger, but she let out a helpless sigh and then a defiant huff. Li Tian noticed the tension between them and shook his head with a wry smile.

After Park Jeong-seok left, Yi Ke'er and Li Tian returned to their room. Yi Ke'er became like a clingy, well-behaved cat, kissing Li Tian's lips repeatedly, trying to arouse his desire. She pulled off his pants and began to give him oral sex. When his penis became erect, it was only about 9 centimeters long. Yi Ke'er didn't mind at all. She pressed her breasts against it, starting breast sex. Her ample bosom completely buried his penis, making it invisible. As they began to make love, Yi Ke'er shook her body wildly. Li Tian came in less than six minutes. The intensity and height of his ejaculation couldn't reach deep inside—if he wanted to get Yi Ke'er pregnant, it would take many attempts. The difficulty of Li Tian getting Yi Ke'er fertilized was extremely high. After ejaculating once, he collapsed, completely spent, needing a long rest to recover. Yi Ke'er gently comforted him, saying, "You've done enough. Try harder next time," and kissed his cheek with affection.

Two days later, Yi Ke'er arrived at Park Jeong-seok's Gate Gang second branch villa. When Park Jeong-seok opened the door and saw it was her, his face immediately soured. "Wow, what wind blew you here? This wind isn't good at all," he said through gritted teeth.

Yi Ke'er maintained a confident, composed demeanor. "I just wanted to see what kind of savage den the second-in-command of the Gate Gang lives in."

Park Jeong-seok asked, "How come you're alone? Where's your fiancé, Li Tian?"

Yi Ke'er replied, "He had something to do and couldn't come. Anyway, I'm just taking a quick look and then I'll leave."

Park Jeong-seok said, "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." He went into the toilet and called his older brother, Park Dae-geun. "Big brother, what the hell are you thinking? I've gotten into trouble with a troublesome woman, you know?"

At that moment, Park Dae-geun was on the phone while Yi Mei'er was giving him oral sex. "Oh, that feels good. Brother, don't worry about it. Treat it as a training exercise. As your older brother, I order you to control your temper. Ooh, ooh~"

Park Jeong-seok thought his brother's voice sounded strange. "What's with all the weird noises?"

Park Dae-geun lied, "Uh, it's just my daily muscle training. I make weird sounds. Ooh, ooh, oh—I'm busy now, I'll hang up." He ended the call.

Park Jeong-seok believed his brother's lie. "This guy has such a strange habit. Oh well."

Meanwhile, Yi Ke'er also called her older sister, Yi Mei'er. "Hey, my dear big sister, how are you and your husband Li Qing doing? Congratulations on getting married. I ran into Park Jeong-seok the other day. That guy really pissed me off. He did something bad to me. Ugh, I hate him. He's disgusting."

At that moment, Yi Mei'er was in the middle of giving oral sex to Park Dae-geun's massive erection. "Mmm... mmm... smack... My dear little sister, you're a grown woman. How you judge a person shouldn't be so one-sided... mmm... so big!"

Yi Ke'er asked, puzzled, "What's so big?"

Yi Mei'er lied, "Nothing, I'm just eating a popsicle. It's a little... mmm... smack... big! Really big, this popsicle!"

Yi Ke'er thought her sister was really just eating a popsicle. She hung up the phone.

Yikoel continued her tour of Park Jingseok's villa, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she moved from room to room. She had to admit, the place was impressive—sprawling, modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the afternoon light. But when she pushed open the door to his bedroom, she stopped dead in her tracks.

The room was a disaster.

Clothes were strewn across the floor in careless heaps. A half-empty cup of coffee sat on the nightstand, a ring of brown staining the wood. The bedsheets were tangled into a knot, as if someone had wrestled with them and lost. Empty snack wrappers littered the desk, and a gaming controller lay abandoned on the pillow.

Yikoel's lips curled into a smirk. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath.

She stepped inside, careful not to trip over a discarded shoe. Park Jingseok followed her in, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he took in the mess through her eyes.

"I know, I know," he said. "I've been busy."

"Busy," she repeated, picking up a crumpled shirt from the floor. She held it between her thumb and forefinger as if it were contaminated. "Busy doing what exactly? Learning how to live like a wild animal?"

"Hey, that's a bit harsh."

"Reality often is." Yikoel shook her head, a mixture of amusement and disgust playing across her face. "A grown man who can't even tidy his own room. What do you do when you need to find your keys? Call a search party?"

Park Jingseok opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. He had no good defense.

Yikoel sighed, dropping the shirt onto a chair. "Fine. I'll clean this up."

"You will?"

"Don't get excited. I'm only doing this once. There won't be a second time." She began gathering the scattered clothes, sorting them into piles. "Honestly, if you can't manage this yourself, you should get your girlfriend or wife to do it. Oh wait—" She paused, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing grin. "Judging by your lifestyle, I doubt any woman would want to stick around. That's why you had your underlings call an escort for you, isn't it?"

Park Jingseok winced. "Can we not bring that up?"

"Why not? It's a perfect summary of your situation. Pathetic, really."

"Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm begging you, I was wrong. That time, I mistook you for someone else."

"Oh, I'm not angry about it." Yikoel picked up an empty chip bag and tossed it into a trash can. "Why would I be mad at a pitiful single man who has to resort to escorts to satisfy his needs? It's almost sad enough to make me feel sorry for you."

Park Jingseok shifted uncomfortably. "It didn't even happen," he muttered, almost to himself. "That escort thing was my first time trying, and it failed. I'm still actually..."

Yikoel stopped. She turned to face him fully, one eyebrow raised. "Still what?"

He let out an impatient huff, his face reddening. "I'm still a virgin, okay! If I hadn't mistaken you for someone else that night, I might have finally gotten rid of it. Go ahead, laugh. I know it's hilarious."

But Yikoel's expression grew serious. She set down the things in her hands and looked at him directly. "No. I won't laugh at you for that."

Park Jingseok blinked, caught off guard.

"I mean it," she continued. "Mr. Park Jingseok, I don't think a man staying a virgin until he finds true love is a bad thing. And I wouldn't mock him for it either."

He studied her face, searching for any trace of sarcasm or mockery. There was none. Her eyes were steady, her tone sincere. For a moment, he felt a flicker of respect. So this was the Second-in-Command of the Blue Dragon Gang. A woman of principle.

But then Yikoel's lips twisted into a mischievous grin. "That said," she added lightly, "I don't think you'll ever escape the single life. And it's not right to make fun of a pitiful creature like you. Even I have standards."

The respect evaporated instantly.

Park Jingseok's eye twitched. Without a word, he trudged over to the sofa in the corner of the room and flopped down, crossing his arms like a sulking child.

Yikoel chuckled to herself and returned to her work. She gathered the dirty laundry, straightened the desk, wiped down the surfaces. As she moved through the room, she became absorbed in the task, her movements efficient and precise.

Park Jingseok watched her from the sofa. At first, he was just trying to avoid looking at her. But his gaze kept drifting back.

There was something captivating about the way she worked. The focused expression on her face. The way her long, jet-black hair slid over her shoulders as she bent down to pick something up. Her posture was elegant even when performing mundane chores.

And then she leaned over to make the bed.

His breath caught.

Her blouse, already cut low, gaped forward as she bent at the waist. The deep valley of her cleavage came into full view—flawless white skin, shadowed and inviting. Her figure, tall and statuesque at 176 centimeters, was accentuated by every movement. The black hair cascaded down her back like silk.

Without meaning to, Park Jingseok whispered, "Beautiful..."

Yikoel straightened up, frowning. "What did you say?"

He scrambled. "Nothing. I talk to myself sometimes. Don't worry about it."

She gave him a skeptical look but let it go, returning to her cleaning.

Thirty minutes later, the room was spotless. Neat. Organized. Yikoel stood in the doorway and surveyed her work with satisfaction.

"Don't mess it up again," she said flatly.

"I'll try."

She turned to leave, and he followed her to the front entrance. As she stepped out the door, Park Jingseok hesitated, then called out.

"Miss Yikoel."

She paused, half-turning.

"I really hope our misunderstanding doesn't affect the relationship between Great Door Gang and Blue Dragon Gang," he said carefully. "My brother made it clear that we should maintain friendly ties. For the future of both organizations, I hope you can—"

Yikoel turned fully to face him. Her gaze was sharp, probing. "What about you?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not asking about the gangs." She crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I want to know what *you* think. Can you personally maintain a friendly relationship with me? More importantly, do you *want* to? I want to hear your own thoughts. Not your brother's orders. Yours."

Park Jingseok fell silent. The wind stirred the leaves around them. He looked at her—her confident stance, her piercing eyes, the way the afternoon light caught the edges of her hair.

He took a breath.

"Actually," he said slowly, "I think you're really attractive. I might even like you a little. Would you be willing to be my—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Yikoel cut him off, stepping back with her hands raised. "Stop right there. I think you're misunderstanding something. I came to your house today to be polite and to represent Blue Dragon Gang's position. I have *zero* romantic interest in you."

"That's fine," he said quickly, his face heating. "I can wait. Until you're ready."

"Absolutely not. Don't wait for me. Do you know why?" She placed her hands on her hips. "I'm taken, Park Jingseok. I have a fiancé. I thought you knew that—my fiancé is Leetian. He used to hang out with you all the time. You two were close friends. Oh my god, he never told you about me?"

Park Jingseok's face drained of all color.

He stood frozen, the words sinking in like stones dropped into deep water. Leetian. His friend. His brother.

"I was just about to make a move on Leetian's woman," he muttered, his voice hollow. "I was going to confess, and then bring her inside, and we would—" He stopped abruptly, but his thoughts kept running. *Ten kids. A house in the suburbs. Growing old together.*

He didn't realize he had spoken the next part aloud.

"...make her have ten kids with me."

Yikoel went very still.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then she raised her hand and brought it down across his cheek with a sharp *crack*.

The slap echoed in the quiet street. A red handprint bloomed across his face like a brand.

Yikoel stared at him, her eyes cold. Then she turned on her heel and walked away, her pace quick and furious.

"I'm sorry!" Park Jingseok called after her, his voice desperate. "At least I was honest! I deserve this slap!"

Yikoel stopped walking.

She stood still for a long moment, her back to him. Then she spoke without turning around.

"Yeah. Hoping for something like that from me, you definitely deserved it." A pause. "But you're honest, I'll give you that. Anything else you want to say?"

Park Jingseok straightened. He bowed deeply, his forehead almost touching his knees.

"Since there's no romantic fate between us," he said, his voice steady now, "I'll work toward the friendship between our gangs. And toward earning your personal respect. That's what I want."

Yikoel turned around slowly. A smile spread across her face—confident, radiant, and just a little bit smug.

"Then you'd better work hard to earn my respect," she said. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you've got."

With that, she turned again and walked away, humming a cheerful tune under her breath.

Park Jingseok watched her go, one hand pressed to his stinging cheek.

*To be continued...*

Li Tian and Piao Jingshuo pulled up to the warehouse in a nondescript sedan, the headlights cutting through a fine mist that clung to the gravel lot. Yi Ke'er stayed behind the wheel, her eyes scanning the perimeter through the windshield as the two men stepped out. "Keep the engine running," Li Tian said, his voice low. "If we're not back in twenty minutes, you know what to do." Yi Ke'er nodded, her hand resting on the gearshift. She watched them approach the rusted roll-up door, their silhouettes swallowed by the shadow of the building.

Inside, the warehouse was a cavern of silence. Dust motes drifted in the slivers of light from high windows. Piao Jingshuo moved ahead, his footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Stacked crates and overturned tables suggested a hasty exit. "Looks like they cleared out," he muttered, shining a flashlight into the corners. Li Tian kicked over an empty barrel, the clatter ringing out. "Maybe we got a tip too late." They swept the main floor, finding nothing but abandoned equipment and the faint chemical smell of recent activity. Then, from behind a partition, a scuffling sound.

Two men emerged, thin and nervous, their hands twitching at their sides. One held a small canister, the other a metal flask. "You weren't supposed to be here," the first one said, his voice cracking. Before Li Tian could react, the canister hissed, releasing a cloud of pale blue vapor. The air turned sweet and cloying. Li Tian tried to hold his breath, but the gas seeped into his lungs, and the world tilted. He saw Piao Jingshuo sway, then crumple. His own knees buckled, and darkness swallowed him.

He didn't feel the flask pressed to his lips, the bitter liquid forced down his throat. He didn't hear the thug's laugh. "Two hours, and their dicks will blow," the thug said to his companion. "Best drug we ever found. Make sure they don't wake up before then."

But Yi Ke'er had not stayed in the car. She had watched the minutes tick past, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. She slipped from the driver's seat, her footsteps silent on the gravel. The warehouse door was cracked open, and she eased through, her hand finding the cool grip of her pistol. She crept through the shadows, following the muffled voices. When she saw Li Tian and Piao Jingshuo sprawled on the floor, the two thugs standing over them, her jaw tightened.

She moved fast. The first thug never saw her coming—a blow to the back of his head, and he dropped like a sack. The second spun, but she caught his arm, twisted it behind his back, and drove him to his knees. Her knee pressed into his spine, her free hand pinning his wrist. "Tell me what you gave them!" she hissed.

The thug gasped, his face grinding into the concrete. "A drug we found last year. Makes a man's dick go crazy hard. Two hours, and it bursts. They'll bleed out if it doesn't soften." He winced as she tightened her grip. "That's the truth! I swear!"

Yi Ke'er's mind raced. Soften. That was the only way. "How did they pass out?"

"Special knockout gas. They won't wake for four hours."

Distracted, she loosened her hold. The thug took the chance. "Defense mode!" he screamed.

A metallic whir filled the air. A panel in the ceiling slid open, and a robotic arm extended, a pistol aimed at Yi Ke'er. She dove behind a stack of crates as the gun fired, bullets chewing into the floor where she had stood. The thug she had knocked out stirred, groaning, and the arm tracked toward him. A shot. He went still. The second thug, seeing his chance, scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. The arm swiveled, a mechanical click, and a final bullet caught him between the shoulder blades. He pitched forward, dead.

The arm retracted, the panel sliding shut. Silence returned. Yi Ke'er rose cautiously, her heart pounding. She ran to Li Tian and Piao Jingshuo, checking their pulses. Alive, but deep asleep. She dragged them one by one to the car, her muscles screaming. She got them into the back seat, then slid behind the wheel. She drove, not caring about direction, just needing distance.

Halfway through the forest road, the engine sputtered. The fuel gauge needle was buried in empty. She cursed, veering off into a thicket of trees, killing the lights. They were hidden, but stranded. She checked the back seat. Both men were still unconscious, but their trousers were tented. The drug was taking effect. She remembered the thug's words: *Soften*. She looked at the bulges, and her stomach turned.

There was no time to wait four hours. They would die. She took a deep breath, her hands trembling. She unbuckled Li Tian's belt, pulled down his pants. His penis was erect, but modest—maybe nine centimeters, harder than she'd ever seen it. Then she turned to Piao Jingshuo. When she saw his, she froze. Twenty-eight centimeters, thick as her forearm, veins like ropes, the head swollen and dark. The smell hit her—musky, potent. She couldn't believe something that big existed. She had no choice.

She sat between them, one hand on each shaft. She began to stroke, fast and desperate. Li Tian's breath hitched. In less than three minutes, he climaxed with a shudder, his semen pooling on his stomach. She wiped her hand on his shirt, then focused on Piao Jingshuo. His erection didn't waver. She kept going, her wrist aching. Ten minutes. Twenty. Forty. Still rock hard. Panic clawed at her. She didn't know what else to do.

Then Piao Jingshuo stirred. His eyes half-opened, glazed. He was still under the gas, caught between sleeping and waking. "Yi Ke'er... you little kitten," he murmured, his voice thick. "Give me a tit job." His words were slurred, but clear. She slapped him, hard. The crack echoed in the car. His head lolled, but he didn't wake. "Wang ba dan," she muttered. But she thought of the two hours. She thought of his heart stopping.

She unbuttoned her blouse, unhooked her bra. Her breasts were full and heavy, the nipples already tight from the cold. She positioned herself over him, lowering her chest onto his shaft. It was so thick that her breasts were pushed apart, the head emerging between them, level with her lips. The length was astonishing—it reached her mouth, maybe thirty centimeters or more. She began to move, sliding her breasts up and down. The head was hot against her chin. She could smell his musk, feel his pulse.

He sat up suddenly. Her heart stopped. But his eyes were still half-lidded, locked on something only he could see. "Do you like my huge cock, kitten?" His voice was a sleep-mumble. "Say it."

She forced herself to speak, to keep him calm. "I like it. I love it."

"So smile. Kiss the head."

She smiled, a brittle, desperate smile. She lowered her lips to the tip that emerged from her cleavage, kissing it, once, twice. Then she licked it. He groaned. "Suck it. I'm going to come."

She had no time to pull away. She took him into her mouth, just the head, her hands still working the base. He erupted. Hot, thick spurts filled her mouth, more than she expected. She swallowed, but it was so viscous she had to chew, to force it down. He kept coming, jet after jet, his hips bucking. Finally, he collapsed back, his erection softening.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She glanced at Li Tian. Still asleep. She breathed out, a shaky sigh. She dressed, then remembered the spare gas can in the trunk. She filled the tank, and drove them back toward the city.

Two hours later, Li Tian stirred first. He blinked, groggy. "What happened?"

Yi Ke'er kept her eyes on the road. "You were gassed. You're fine."

"I feel... drained," he said, rubbing his crotch. "Like I was wrung out."

Piao Jingshuo woke with a start. His cheek stung. He touched the red mark. "Who hit me?"

"Must have been a piece of debris," Yi Ke'er said flatly.

He frowned, trying to remember. "I had a dream... about you, Miss Yi. It was vivid. You were—"

"Don't bother remembering," she snapped. "It was just a dream."

He fell silent, confused. He didn't argue. Something told him not to push. The car hummed along the dark road, and the three of them rode in a quiet that none of them wanted to break.

A week had passed since the last time Park Jeongseok saw anyone from Laitan's circle. The morning sun filtered through the villa's tall windows as the doorbell rang, sharp and insistent. He shuffled down the stairs, still in his house clothes, groggy from another late night of prepping ingredients for his planned octopus barbecue.

"Who's this early?" he muttered, pulling the door open.

Yi Ke'er stood on the doorstep, dressed in a crisp white OL blouse and matching pencil skirt, her hair neatly tied back. She held out a manila envelope. "Litian had to go out of town—won't be back for three days. He asked me to deliver this text to you."

Park's free hand was already wrapped around a massive live octopus he'd been about to clean. The creature writhed, its tentacles coiling around his forearm. Before he could respond, the octopus's beak opened wide and expelled a thick jet of black ink directly at Ke'er.

The viscous fluid splattered across her pristine white outfit, staining the blouse and skirt in dark, spreading blotches. She gasped, looking down at the mess. "What the hell! How did you—" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Now I'm covered in this. I should have known—every time I'm around you, something goes wrong."

Park stammered an apology, his face flushing. "I'm really sorry, let me—just sit down on the sofa, please. Give me a minute." He gestured toward the living room, then hurried into the kitchen with the octopus, quickly rinsing it, cutting it into rings, and arranging them on a platter. He wiped his hands, took a breath, and returned to the living room.

The sofa was empty. The envelope lay on the coffee table. Ke'er was nowhere in sight.

"She must have left," he said to himself, shrugging. He remembered then that he hadn't bathed in over twenty-four hours, having worked straight through the previous day and night. The villa's private onsen in the back garden beckoned. Since he was alone—the branch villa was his private space—he stripped off his pants and boxers right there, wrapped a small towel around his waist, and headed through the rear door to the artificial hot spring.

Steam rose from the water as he slid the door open. The warm, mineral-scented air hit him.

Then a scream cut through the silence.

"What are you doing? I'm still in here!"

Park froze. Yi Ke'er was submerged in the onsen, her bare shoulders visible above the water. She grabbed a long towel draped over a nearby rock and scrambled to wrap it around herself, but her breasts were enormous—the towel barely covered her nipples, and the dark circles of her areolas peeked out from the edges.

Park turned around immediately, facing the wall. "I'm sorry! I didn't know you were still here! I thought you left!"

"Left? I told you my place is being renovated! The bathroom is out of commission, so I came here to use the hot spring while you were busy!" Her voice was a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Just—get out! Now!"

Park started backing toward the door, his towel dangerously loose. Before he could exit, the sound of a car engine rumbled from outside, then stopped. Two men stepped out of a sedan, both wearing dark jackets. They moved to the fence surrounding the onsen, pulled out pistols, and fired.

Bullets tore through the wooden slats, splintering the fence. Ke'er reacted instantly, diving behind a stone basin. Water splashed everywhere. Park didn't think twice. He ran out of the bath area, still only in his towel, and sprinted to his car parked in the driveway. He jumped in, started the engine, and floored it straight through the already damaged fence, pulling up beside the onsen.

"Get in!" he shouted.

Ke'er, still wrapped only in the long towel, leaped from behind the basin and into the passenger seat—except there was no passenger seat. She landed directly on Park's lap, straddling him. The towel rode up, barely covering her hips.

"Move over!" she snapped, grabbing the steering wheel. "I'm a better driver than you."

He had no time to argue. She wrestled the wheel from his hands, one foot reaching for the pedals. With Ke'er sitting on his lap, Park's hands were free. He reached for the seatbelt and clicked it around both of them, pinning her torso against his chest.

Ke'er slammed the accelerator. The car lurched forward, tires screeching. In the rearview mirror, the assassins' sedan sped after them, bullets pinging off the trunk.

They hit a speed bump. The car jolted violently. Park's hands, which had been gripping the seatbelt, were thrown forward and landed squarely on Ke'er's chest. His palms cupped her massive, bare breasts through the thin towel.

"Let go! Don't grope me!" she yelled, swerving to avoid another round of gunfire.

He pulled his hands away, but the involuntary contact had already stirred something below. Park felt his penis, trapped between his legs and Ke'er's crotch, begin to stiffen. The towel had loosened, and with each jolt of the car, the tip of his erection brushed against the damp fabric covering her vagina. Then it slipped past the towel's edge, pressing directly against her wet slit.

Ke'er gasped. She felt it too—a hot, rigid rod pushing against her entrance. As the car bounced and vibrated, the intrusion deepened. His length grew harder, sliding inch by inch into her unprepared warmth.

"Ahh—mmh—ohh," she whimpered, her concentration fracturing. The steering wheel wobbled in her grip as another speed bump approached.

"Brace yourself!" Park grunted, his hands gripping her hips.

The car hit the bump. The impact drove his entire shaft deep inside her. Ke'er cried out, a sharp, involuntary moan—"Ah!"—as her body shuddered.

They reached a T-junction. Ahead, the road ended at a long, steep staircase descending into a lower district. Countless stone steps stretched downward into the fog.

Ke'er stared in disbelief. "There's no way we can drive down that."

Behind them, the assassins' car was closing in. Bullets shattered the rear window.

"We have no choice!" Park shouted.

She gritted her teeth and floored the accelerator. The car launched over the edge.

The first step sent a jarring shock through the chassis. The second was worse. The vehicle bucked and bounced, its suspension groaning. With every jolt, Park's pelvis slammed upward, driving his cock deeper into Ke'er's clenching pussy. She cried out with each impact—loud, breathless cries that mingled pain and pleasure.

"Oh! Oh! Ahh! Uhh!"

The towel fell away entirely. Her enormous breasts were now fully exposed, swinging wildly with the car's motion. The soft mounds bounced up and down, slapping against her chest, swaying left and right as she fought to keep the steering wheel steady. Park gritted his teeth, trying to hold back his own climax but failing to stop the rhythmic thrusts forced by the bouncing vehicle.

Ten minutes of brutal, uncontrolled intercourse passed before the car reached the bottom, landing with a heavy thud on flat ground. The stairs were far behind, and the assassins' car had stopped at the top, unable to follow.

Ke'er pulled over in a barren, rocky field. Her body was slick with sweat, her hair disheveled. She tried to slide off his lap, to pull away from the still-hard cock embedded inside her.

But Park's hands locked around her waist, holding her down.

"We've come this far," he growled, his voice rough. "I can't stop now. I'm going to come inside you."

"No, don't!" she screamed, pounding on his chest.

Too late. A thick torrent of hot semen erupted from his cock, flooding her womb. The first spurt was violent and long—a full minute of pumping. Then another, and another. He kept ejaculating, stream after stream, until three full minutes had passed. Ke'er's body convulsed with each shot, her legs trembling, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

When it finally ended, she slumped against him, breathless and shaking. The only sound in the car was the ticking of the cooling engine and her ragged breathing.

Neither spoke for a long moment.