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By god it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week to be honest. Teaching English to Korean kindergarteners has been my dream for such a long time and I’m finally living it - except I’m so damned tired.
I’ve only been in Seoul for three months and I’m still not used to the long school hours. A 7am start and a 5pm finish is taking it’s toll. I love my job, I love the children, but I really love the weekend when I can catch up on sleep. Still, it would be nice to be a little less exhausted so I can go out and socialise more.
My bag is heavy, filled with textbooks to study over the next couple of days. I may be the teacher but I still have homework to do. The illuminated board shows that there is a further four minutes to wait until my subway train arrives. I shift my satchel from one shoulder to the other, wincing at the dull ache from where the strap is digging in.
It’s a warm evening but there is a light breeze dancing along the platform, tickling my skin as it cools me. I can smell Seoul on the air, the distinct tang that the city has; it’s hard to describe, a heady mix of life, of people and pollution.
The train arrives and I step aboard, sinking gratefully into a seat with a sigh. Slipping my bag from my shoulder I glance around. There are two other passengers in this carriage - about halfway down, a bored-looking older man in a dark suit and, directly opposite, a twenty-something man in a khaki puffer jacket.
The young man’s dark floppy fringe hides his eyes and he is wearing a disposable face mask, nothing unusual in South Korea. I notice he is dressed almost head to foot in khaki, the coat, his trousers and the baseball cap he holds in one hand. His other hand holds the book he is engrossed in.
One at a time, I slip my feet out of my shoes and wiggle my toes. Fatigue is starting to take over and I struggle to stifle a yawn but still find myself stretching my back out, rolling my head and closing my eyes in pleasure as I rub at my stiff neck. Breathing in deeply, I rub at the tight trapezius muscles, kneading to ease the knots out.
A tiny groan escapes my lips.
My eyes fly open in shock!
Across from me the young man stares at me with wide, round eyes, his book lays forgotten on his thigh. I can feel the fire burning in my cheeks.
“Mianhamnida.” I whisper an apology in Korean as I drop my hands to clasp them in my lap. Suddenly I feel very exposed and my fight or flight response has never been stronger. But I have nowhere to run to, so I suck in a breath and risk another glance at the stranger.
To my surprise he is still looking at me, leaning forward and tugging his mask down. Oh my god, he is going to say something to me. What do I do? My cheeks feel purple with the amount of blood rushing to them.
He's smiling and his eyes crinkle.
“Tanghonghaji malajuseyo.” Please don’t be embarrassed. I glance up and smile gratefully as he carries on.
“Himdeun Haruyessoyo” You’ve had a long day. He nods, just once, as if to affirm his words and then returns to his book. He’s left his mask tucked under his chin and I can see his lips move almost imperceptibly as he reads.
I can’t tear my eyes away from his lips; they're plump but not overly so, very slightly downturned, and dammit, is that a freckle on his lower lip? My head tilts to get a better look.
The colour of his lips is somewhere between a dusky rose and coral. Oh, the same colour as his nipples then. Oh my god, where did that come from? Why do I know that? Is that a real thing? Why am I even thinking about his nipples? My face is getting hot again and my eyes drop to his chest. Stop it! Stop thinking about nipples!
I drag my eyes away and back up to his face, he has another freckle on the tip of his pretty nose. Pretty nose? What the hell is wrong with me? I’m drawn back to his luscious lips and I start to think about them, what would they feel like on mine? Are they as soft as they look? What sort of marks would they leave on my body.
His pink tongue darts out and wets his lips, and my knickers too. A gasp falls from my lips. The corners of his lips turn up.
Shit, did he see that? I’m nervous as I raise my eyes and meet his staring directly into mine. An eyebrow cocked in amused question. I am mortified. My cheeks flush pink again and I lower my gaze in embarrassment.
He’s wearing slides. Black slides. They look expensive. His toes are long, straight and well manicured. I hate feet usually but this pair are nice - for feet. Lightly tanned with nails a soft shade of pink. As that thought forms in my head the word ‘pink’ brings his lips and nipples back to the forefront of my mind.
Stop thinking about his nipples!
‘You could think about something else instead’ my perverted and apparently horny brain helpfully supplies. I fight the urge to look at his crotch.There’s no point anyway, his padded coat covers him to his knees. Christ almighty! What am I thinking? What is wrong with me?
I keep my eyes down, I’m still looking at his feet. His big toe slowly raises, higher and higher until it’s almost at a ninety degree angle. Honestly I’m mesmerised and astonished at the range of movement. I find myself flexing my own toe.
A small cough makes me freeze.
I look up, terrified of what I am going to find.
He is looking right at me, a big, square grin on his face. I have been well and truly caught. There’s nothing else to do but smile sheepishly back and shrug my shoulders.
His grin grows and his eyes curve closed. He radiates beauty and my stomach swoops. God I hope I have fresh batteries at home.
I watch, transfixed as he opens his eyes and studies my face, my cheeks colouring at the intensity. I’m beginning to wonder if my face will remember how to be a normal colour again.
His eyes slide down, taking in the soft swell of my breasts, gently accentuated by the fitted blouse and jacket I’m wearing. I’m suddenly pleased that I decided to wear this particular skirt, the wide waistband nips my waist in nicely. His head tilts as he carries on appraising me right to to the tips of my toes. I gulp and realise I’ve been holding my breath during his inspection.
I search his face, looking for an indication that he likes what he sees. I don’t know why, but suddenly it seems important. Maybe I’ve just been single for too long and I just want to feel attractive for a moment.
I allow myself a soft smile as I look at his gorgeous hair. Locks my fingers itch to weave themselves into, to curl around the strands and tug… It’s dark, thick and wavy. Long enough to touch his collar and fall into his eyes, obscuring them slightly which is a shame, I’m certain he has bewitching eyes under there. It’s probably a good idea I can’t see them properly, I’m such a sucker for lovely eyes.
“Areumdawo.” Beautiful.
My eyes widen in surprise as I realise he has spoken and is referring to me. I can’t help but smile shyly.
I hear a low chuckle, “Nomu gwiopda.” So cute.
“Jangmal?” Really? The word is out before I can stop it.
“Jangmaldo.” Really. He shakes his fringe out of his eyes and I swear my heart has stopped beating in shock. Oh my god, he does have beautiful eyes. They are the colour of molten dark chocolate and of course they twinkle. Why wouldn’t they? He has another freckle under his lash line. Jesus, even his freckles are cute.
I’m a dead woman. He’s drop dead gorgeous and I am so out of my depth here. Well, at least I’ll have some amazing material for my wank bank.
He puts his discarded book into his pocket and folds his hands in his lap. For fucks sake, look at those fingers, long, elegant and definitely able to reach deep into my soul. I smile at the thought and feel my tongue snake out and roll across my lip.
As his hand moves up, my eyes follow the movement. He runs his thumb and forefinger over his chin almost thoughtfully, it’s as if he is waiting for me to catch up because as soon as my gaze is on his jaw he lifts his thumb and swipes it along his full, lower lip making me clench my thighs together at the sensation that rips through my core. Fuck, that was so hot.
Looking up, I meet eyes that are even darker if that is possible, hooded now, the arousal in them obvious. He lifts his head looking down at me, his gaze sweeping my body and he pulls at his lip. I feel naked before him.
Feeling emboldened I fix him with an amused stare and this time, when his eyes finally meet mine, it is my eyebrow that raises. Flicking my eyes at his zipped up coat I draw his attention to the inequality of the situation.
Realisation dawns and he reaches for the zip tab, slowly drawing it down. He gets to his chest, smirks and pulls it back up. In amazement I scowl at him and put on my best pout.
He giggles, such an adorable sound, and pulls the zipper down fully, pulling one side of his coat open with a hand that he then places on his hip. The other hand he sweeps down his body, inviting me to ogle him. I don’t need asking twice.
I take in the simple white t-shirt that shows me this guy works out. Not too much, just enough to keep him firm.
I’m definitely feeling brave as I gesture for him to open the other side of his coat, after all I need to see the full picture. I honestly can’t believe I’m being this brazen. But what’s the harm? I’ll never see this guy again and I deserve a little fun and flirtation.
His coat fully open, I make sure he knows I’m taking my time to thoroughly appraise him, pursing my lips at his sharp collar bones, biting my lip at the curve of his pecs. Inhaling sharply as the wish that his shirt was wet forms in my mind. He uncrosses his legs and lets them fall slightly apart, the soft fabric draping over his thighs and accentuating the impressive bulge that is virtually being presented to me.
I can’t help it, I look him directly in the eye, eyebrows raised in question?
He shrugs and winks unapologetically.
I nod approvingly and look back down. Well, it would be rude not to.
He twitches underneath the fabric. Shit. I laugh and look up, he’s back to looking intently at me, his thumb sideways between his teeth as he is obviously enjoying what he sees.
I can’t help it when I lick at my lower lip and suck it in between my teeth, chewing gently as I grin, settling into this game. His eyes are boring into mine now.
I tilt my head, and run my hand up my neck, my index finger sliding along my jaw. As it moves back towards my mouth I release my lip from my teeth and, using my thumb and finger, pinch it lightly.
I feel my eyes darkening and drooping, my breath getting heavier, making my chest heave with the effort of drawing in air. I wink, seductively I hope, and slip a finger between my lips, sucking lightly and dropping my head down, looking up through lowered lashes.
His eyes flick wide in response. He gulps and shifts his hips, obviously feeling uncomfortable and restrained. A high blush stains his cheeks. He isn’t as unaffected as I first thought then.
I can smell him, his musky aroma pleasant and inviting. There’s a hint of lavender there too.
I draw my wet finger down my chin, leaving a glistening trail until I get to the top button of my blouse. Well, it is hot in here.
I pop a button open and fan the fabric lightly. A small groan sounds from across the carriage and he suddenly sits forward, his hips rolling every so slightly into the forearm pressed across his groin.
I stop what I’m doing, eyebrow cocked, amusement dancing on my face as I let him know I know exactly what his is trying to do. I wag my finger side to side. No.
He pouts and drops his head, his hair flopping down. Now he is looking up at me through his lashes.
Fuck, he’s so hot!
Palms together, as if in prayer, he leans towards me, a desperate look on his face. I pull my features into a thoughtful look, tapping my finger to my chin as I consider his request.
I grin and shake my head, no.
His mouth drops open, his shoulders sag and he begs silently again, a smile playing on his lips; he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
He sits back in the chair, legs wide, hands running up and down his thighs. I swallow thickly, I can almost feel his hands on my own thighs, trailing up and down the soft, sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
My hand moves of it’s own accord, stroking my leg, my lower belly. I close my eyes and throw my head back, my jaw slack. I’m impossibly turned on right now, the throbbing between my legs intensifies and I have to fight with myself not to thrust my hand under the waistband of my skirt and into my knickers. It’s been so long. Too long.
Jesus, I’m on the subway. In public. What am I doing? But I can’t stop. My back arches as my arousal spikes, I know my nipples are hard and most likely poking through the flimsy fabric of my bra and blouse. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to find the slightest bit of friction, my thoughts are getting hazy. It would be so easy to just let go right here, right now.
I roll my eyes hard in an attempt to pull myself back to reality. The guy’s expression is one of pure arousal, his gaze hard and intense. I know he wants me as much as I want him.
The train is slowing as it pulls into a station. Maintaining eye contact we pull ourselves up into respectable positions in case anyone enters our carriage. I risk a glance at the older man, he is engrossed in his phone.
I look behind the hot guy and jump up in a panic, this is my stop. I’ve never been so disappointed to be home. I can see he feels the same way. I pull a face and frown by way of apology and he blows me a kiss that I catch and place to my heart, smiling all the time as I disembark.
I’m almost across the platform, daydreaming about falling into bed with my vibrator when the older man taps me on the shoulder.
Shit, is he police? Am I about to be arrested for public indecency? Does he think I’m a prostitute?
‘Tangshin-eh kabangeun miseu-imnida.” Your bag Miss. He hands me my satchel of books. I bow and thank him. I’m about to leave when he hands me a card and addresses me in excellent English.
“The gentleman from the train, Mr Kim, would like to take you to dinner. I’m sure you noticed he is quite taken with you.”