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Park Jimiո is a dream, Namjοοո thinks. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have a neighbor like him, but he does know he’d be a fool to not take advantage of it.
It helps that Mr. Park is so trusting.
Namjοοո makes it a habit to go out on his balcony every afternoon to watch Jimiո water his plants on his own balcony. Mr. Park always greets Namjοοո with a soft smile, not noticing how Namjοοո’s eyes greedily drink in the sight of his curves. The sun dresses Jimiո wears does little to hide the plumpness of his ass and breasts threatening to spill out of the neckline.
The routine goes as follows; “What a lovely afternoon it is,” Jimiո sighs wistfully. He bends over slightly to water the plants on the floor, but it’s enough to give Namjοοո an eyeful of cleavage. “How has your day been so far, Namjοοո?”
And Namjοοո sits back in his chair, enjoying the view. “It’s been good so far, Mr. Park.”
Then they spend the rest of that time in silence until Jimiո goes back inside and Namjοοո has to jerk off to the thought of him.
But Namjοοո has been watching Jimiո closely. He knows that Jimiո’s husband neglects him. His husband is almost always away at work while Jimiո sits at home, lonely and unloved. Their son had moved out a year or two ago, and now they didn’t have a child to use as a reason to keep their flimsy marriage from falling apart.
Namjοοո likes to stare at the footage of Jimiո sitting on his couch, sipping wine in a loose silk robe, unknowing of the cameras that watched him in every room.
The opportunity to get closer is presented one morning, when Namjοοո wakes up to frantic knocking on his door. He’d almost fallen back asleep, still too groggy to bother opening the door, but whoever it was wouldn’t stop.
When the door swings open, he’s met with a wonderful sight.
“Namjοοո!” Jimiո’s eyes are wide and frantic, head craning back to look up at him properly. His camisole is wet, one strap almost slipping off of his shoulders. The cold has made his nipples hard and Namjοοո has to physically restrain himself from lifting his hands and thumbing at the peaks. His hair is endearingly messy too. It’s obvious he’d just gotten out of bed.
“Mr. Park? What’s going on?”
“I-I’m sorry for waking you up, it’s just-! My- my husband isn’t home, and our bathroom sink faucet broke! I was washing my face and it just splashed all over me-” Jimiո blubbers. “Please, can you help me?”
Namjοοո didn’t realize how small Jimiո would be. They’d never actually met face to face before. Even at this angle, Namjοοո couldn’t help but peer down his shirt. Their height difference was that huge.
“Of course I can,” Namjοοո soothes. “I just need to get my tools and put on a shirt-”
“No! It’s okay, my husband has a toolbox, let’s go please!”
Namjοοո lets himself be tugged along by this cute little house husband. He enters the apartment and watches as Jimiո goes on all fours to reach underneath their kitchen sink for the tool box. He’s wearing boyshorts too, so Namjοοո gets treated to a view of his covered pussy. It would be so easy to just reach and pull it to the side, but he holds off on the urge for now.
Jimiո hands him the box and Namjοοո makes quick work of fixing the faulty faucet in the bathroom. He was tempted to keep it slightly loose just so he could have another excuse to come again, but he’d find another way. Somehow.
“There we go.” Namjοοո tightens the last bolt under the sink and tests out the water flow. “Looks like it just wasn’t installed properly.”
“Oh! That was so fast!” Jimiո goes on his tippy toes, trying to peek over Namjοοո’s shoulder. “Are you sure it won’t break again?”
Namjοοո turns to face Jimiո just so he can see how Jimiո’s head tilts back to maintain eye contact. “It shouldn’t. But in case it does, you can always call me.”
“Thank you again. You’re a lifesaver. Oh, it’s so early, I’m sure you haven’t had breakfast yet. I can make something for you, do you like coffee? I could make fried rice and eggs!”
“No, no, it’s okay, I don’t want to impose-”
“Nonsense!”
Jimiո turns, presumably to leave the bathroom, but they’d both forgotten about the water all over the bathroom tiles. He loses his balance, and Namjοοո tries to catch him, but they both end up slipping on the tiles.
They end up on the floor– Jimiո on top of Namjοοո, with Namjοοո’s hands cupping his tits.
“Ouch,” Jimiո laughs good naturedly, wincing when he realizes that Namjοοո had broken his fall. He hasn’t noticed Namjοοո’s hands slowly kneading at his breasts yet. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alright. I’m just, uh, wet.” Namjοοո responds. He gives them one last squeeze before pulling away. “Is that breakfast still an option?”
“Of course!”
———
Since then, Jimiո progressively became comfortable with asking Namjοοո for help with things. Namjοοո imagines it’s because he’s lonely and is used to doing things by himself at this point. It’s unfortunate, but Jimiո has Namjοοո now, and he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing as long as he’s around.
Jimiո doesn’t ask too much of him. It’s mostly just heavy lifting or maintenance around the apartment. Husband-ly duties and all. He’s always so amazed at Namjοοո’s knowledge. To him, Namjοοո is one of the smartest people he’s ever met and gushes all the time about how ‘Namjοοո always knows best!’
Namjοοո never asks for anything in return since his end goal is just to spend time with Jimiո.
… And also the fact that he reaps his rewards every night by sneaking into Jimiո’s apartment.
He knows where the spare key is hidden, Jimiո had entrusted him with that information.
It’s so easy to take advantage of his pretty little neighbor. Jimiո makes it so. Especially when he drinks a little too much wine and falls asleep on the couch. It’s easy for Namjοοո to set up his tripod and his camera to record himself assaulting Jimiո.
The nights where Jimiո is still awake but too drunk to remember anything are the best ones.
Namjοοո likes to make a show out of it. He goes thru the motions of untying the knot of Jimiո’s silk robe, murmuring softly about how Jimiո must be asking for it if he’s not wearing anything underneath.
His favorite thing to do is slide his cock between Jimiո’s tits and poke at his wine-stained lips. Jimiո looks at him with heavy eyes, limbs too heavy to move. He makes quiet noises whenever Namjοοո spurts cum all over his face. And as much as Namjοοո wants to leave it there to dry, he doesn’t.
Jimiո never remembers a thing.
———
Sometimes, Jimiո gets so overcome with boredom that he just randomly cooks a meal (more like a feast) for two even if he knows his husband isn’t coming home. He invites Namjοοո over instead and asks for help with cooking.
Namjοοո doesn’t mind. It’s fun to watch the object of his lust run around the kitchen.
He watches as Jimiո goes on his tippy toes again as he reaches for the top shelf, the hem of his sundress riding up and revealing his cute little white panties underneath. The innocent choice of underwear showed that Jimiո truly never intended on seducing Namjοοո. Perhaps all he wanted was real companionship. It was far too late for that, though.
“Do you need help, Mr. Park?” Namjοοո asks.
“Oh! I forgot you were there for a moment,” Jimiո laughs. “Yes, please!”
Namjοοո slips his hands underneath Jimiո’s arms and lifts him up so he can see the top shelf properly. His fingers press against the sides of Jimiո’s breasts, and he casually pushes them together, relishing in their softness. And when Namjοοո puts him down, he makes sure to run his fingers briefly over Jimiո’s nipples.
He notices Jimiո’s flushed cheeks. Maybe he’d finally noticed.
“Um… S-sorry, Jooո, but you, um, you-” Jimiո’s face seems to get rosier, hands fidgeting with the bottle of spices he’d retrieved from the shelf. “Your hands, they uh, they touched my-”
“Did they! I’m so sorry, Mr. Park!” Namjοοո plays up the act, pretending it had been unintentional. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I would never do that to you, out of respect for your marriage…”
“It’s okay! I should’ve assumed it was an accident. You’re not that kind of person.” Jimiո laughs, though his heart sinks at the word ‘marriage’. “Thank you for your help, Namjοοո.”
That night, Namjοοո watches through the camera as Jimiո pulls and pinches at his nipples, whimpering incoherently.
———
The touching becomes more frequent after that, but Jimiո brushes it off because they always happen at times that make it seem totally accidental.
Like Namjοοո holding his hips to steady him when he trips (he’s such a clutz!), or rubbing against his ass when he needs to pass through a small space… It’s all just coincidental. Namjοοո isn’t that kind of person.
Jimiո thanks Namjοοո constantly for the company he provides these days, and admits that his marriage has been at a standstill for a while. His husband has been taking more hours at the office and he comes home just to eat and sleep.
Namjοοո listens patiently throughout all of it, comforting Jimiո when he cries out of frustration and calming him when he gets angry. He’s never seen Jimiո this emotional before. Perhaps Jimiո had finally come to the realization that being meek wasn’t helping their marriage at all. But Namjοοո knows that all Jimiո really needs is to get fucked properly so he can go back to being the happy, ditzy little house husband he’s destined to be.
———
They take the train to and from the city center. Jimiո needed to run a few errands and Namjοοո was happy to accompany him. The only thing they didn’t account for was rush hour, and they ended up squished together on the train ride back home.
Jimiո was sandwiched between the door and Namjοοո, ass pressed snugly against Namjοοո’s cock.
“I’m sorry, th-this must be really uncomfortable,” Jimiո laughs shakily. “It’s just for a little while…”
Namjοοո shakes his head. “No worries, Mr. Park.”
They stand in silence for a few minutes, until…
Jimiո gasps softly as Namjοοո grinds against him once. It doesn’t happen again for a bit, so Jimiո thinks it might’ve been an accident, since the train was moving after all… Then Namjοοո does it again. And again. And again.
“Jooո?” Jimiո whimpers softly. “What are you…?”
A hand slides around Jimiո’s neck. His chest presses onto the cold glass of the door. “Shh. If you’re too loud, someone will see us.”
“No, no,” Jimiո whimpers. “What are you doing? This- this isn’t good, Namjοοո, we shouldn’t…! I don’t want it…”
Namjοοո tsks. “Jimiո… do you really think I’ll believe that now?” His free hand comes to lift the hem of Jimiո’s sundress, exposing his panties. Jimiո jolts when he feels Namjοοո’s bare cock against his asscheek, smearing precum on it. “You’ve wanted this for a while.”
“What are you t-talking about–”
“All this time, haven’t I just been acting as a replacement for your husband?”
Jimiո whines when the tip presses against his hole. He’s wet, he can feel it- but why is he wet? He doesn’t want this at all, he has a husband, Namjοοո is just his neighbor! “That’s not tru- mmpf!” He gasps as Namjοοո begins to sink into him slowly.
He’s so small that it would’ve been impossible to fuck him without prep, but Namjοοո had taken care of that issue last night. He’d trained Jimiո’s cute little cunt to be able to take his girth. Namjοοո’s patience was paying off.
Jimiո chokes out a moan as Namjοοո fucks him slowly, rolling his hips and rocking into him subtly as to not alert the other passengers. Namjοοո’s hand stays firmly at Jimiո’s throat to keep him in place. His tits threaten to spill out of the neckline of his dress.
“You’re so slutty, Jimiո. Look at you, taking my cock so nicely on the train. Tight little cunt just for me.”
Jimiո shakes his head. “Jooո, please-”
Namjοοո pulls out and Jimiո goes weak in the knees, almost falling over when he hears the lewd sounds of Namjοοո jacking himself off. He finally cums on Jimiո’s ass with a soft promise of letting him cum later. Then, much to Jimiո’s dismay, Namjοοո lifts his panties up without cleaning the cum off, and Jimiո spends the rest of the journey home with the fabric sticking to his skin.
— — —
It takes a while to get Jimiո accustomed to getting fucked everywhere.
A part of him is guilty and angry at himself for letting this happen, for letting Namjοοո violate him at every opportunity, but another part is elated. He was so lonely, he’d been lonely for so long, but Namjοοո never took long shifts or extra hours at work to avoid him. He was always happy to come home. That was all that Jimiո ever wanted in life, for himself.
All he truly wanted was to not feel alone, to the point that he’d ignored so many of the red flags… But perhaps a deep, shameful part of him did want it after all. Namjοοո is young and strong and takes care of him. Giving up his body and having sex every day was a small price to pay.
And despite how he and Namjοοո had gotten to this point (Jimiո knows he’s stupid, but not stupid enough to deny that he’d been assaulted), he knows that the younger man loves him.
Namjοοո proved it. He held Jimiո many tears, helped him unlearn the self-loathing that his husband ingrained into his head all these years, and fucked him in front of a mirror to prove that Jimiո wasn’t ugly or unloveable at all.
That’s why Jimiո gave into all his whims and desires.
He rides Namjοοո in public bathroom stalls. He lets Namjοοո bend him over on his balcony and fuck him until he’s screaming loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Their entire apartment complex gets to hear how much of a whore he is, getting dicked down by someone half his age because he needed cock so badly. Namjοοո hammers it into his head; him being a dirty cockslut.
And, Namjοοո always fills him up with cum on the bed that he once shared with his husband.
“You should be grateful,” Namjοοո says to him one night, as Jimiո sits on his lap while they eat dinner together.”
“G-grateful for what?” Jimiո whimpers.
Namjοοո’s fingers creep between Jimiո’s legs, under his dress, and like the trained whore he is, he goes lax and opens his thighs. “Grateful that I convinced you to divorce him. Now you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Jimiո shivers in delight. Perhaps he was meant to end up here, after all. Maybe this truly was what he wanted. Namjοοո always takes care of him, after all.