54. Affectionate person
The bedroom door opened without a knock. It was Bjorn.
Erna, sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously twisting the hem of her pajamas, stared at him with wide, startled eyes. Unsure of what to do, she froze in place as Bjorn approached.
As she tried to lower her head, a large hand grasped her chin. Erna's trembling eyes were helplessly drawn to the hand, finally gazing upon Bjorn.
“How far have you learned?”
In contrast to his cold, hard hands, the smile on Bjorn's lips was soft.
“...I don’t know.”
Erna, who had been agonizing over it, ultimately chose to lie. She felt it would be better to bite her tongue than to say she'd run away to learn how to please her husband when she wasn't feeling well.
“I don’t remember.”
When she looked into Bjorn's hazy eyes, she felt a pang of pain and swallowed dryly without realizing it.
"Yes?"
Bjorn chuckled and sat down next to Erna.
“Then I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning.”
By the time she understood what he meant, Erna was already in bed. Memories of that painful and humiliating first night, brought back by the oppressive body atop her, flooded back. Along with the grotesque illustrations and embarrassing descriptions she's seen in the booklet Mrs. Peg had brought, came the same.
“If you want to kiss, Erna.”
Strength was added to the tips of Bjorn's fingers as he stroked Erna's lips.
“You have to spread it.”
Even though he met Erna's trembling eyes, Bjorn made his request without hesitation.
"Hurry."
Although the tone was affectionate, there was no warmth in the calm, settled eyes.
Erna, who had been hesitating, finally opened her lips. She had to refuse him, but he was a man who could do whatever he wanted if he wanted. That was the awakening their first night had given her.
Bjorn thrust his tongue between her parted lips in one breath. Erna reflexively flinched, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away.
A wife's duties.
It was a short lesson, but it was enough to learn what it meant. A wife has a duty to please her husband in the bedroom, and that's crucial for a smooth marriage.
Erna didn't quite understand how such a thing could be enjoyable, but she knew for sure that her husband didn't find her happy. No, he was so displeased that she didn't want to see him again. In other words, this marriage was doomed from the start.
The kiss continued longer and more persistently than on the first night.
He swirled her around in his mouth, his tongue tingling and entangling relentlessly until it finally began to tingle, before he finally let go of Erna. Their breaths, leaking from between their red, saliva-soaked lips, had already become ragged.
“I don’t like this kind of thing.”
Bjorn smiled slightly and took off Erna's nightgown, which was tightly buttoned and tied with a ribbon all the way to the neck.
“It’s a hassle, I don’t really like it.”
“Oh, I’ll wear different pajamas from now on.”
"No."
Patiently unbuttoning the last button, Bjorn removed the cumbersome pile of lace from his wife's body.
“Don’t wear anything.”
He pulled down the panties, which were smaller than the palm of his hand, in one fell swoop. The ribbons and lace they were adorned with were both absurd and adorable.
“I’m going to take it off anyway.”
Bjorn briefly kissed his dazed wife's cheek, then lifted her naked body and placed it on his lap. Erna's small scream, startled by the sudden change in position, echoed sharply through the darkness.
Bjorn frowned slightly, examining his flushed wife and the gap between her legs, which weren't quite wet enough. It was amusing how he didn't dislike her, despite her being quite clumsy and annoying. Well, of course, no man would dislike a body like this.
It was a pale body, as if it had been made from moonlight.
It felt like the texture of cold, smooth glass or porcelain, but it actually felt incredibly soft and warm to the touch. Bjorn liked that contrast.
“Bjorn...”
Erna, flustered and unsure of what to do, looked at him pleadingly. As if begging him to do something, even though she didn't know what it was. So brazenly and pitifully.
Bjorn, his laughter growing more heated, buried his face in the bosom swaying before him without hesitation. The freshly washed woman exuded a sweet, soft body odor. The scent, which intensified with each suck, and the "eung" and "eung" moans, which sounded like crying, made him increasingly obsessed.
Having already removed his own half-naked gown, Bjorn lowered his hand between Erna's trembling legs. The woman's insides, which held him effortlessly, were soft and moist enough to make a sloppy sound. However, thinking back to that night, when she had cried in pain, wet as she was, he couldn't easily be convinced.
After a brief moment of deliberation, Bjorn swallowed her small, quivering lips again. The wet hand that had been tightly wrapped around Erna's back as she tried to run away gleamed in the fireplace light.
“Don’t just sit there like a corpse, move.”
Erna's lips parted obediently, but that was all. Bjorn commanded her in a low, hushed voice. Erna looked at him with confused eyes.
“What?”
“First, the tongue.”
As if to reveal what he desired, Bjorn swallowed Erna's lips. Erna, following his entangled, sucking strokes, moved her tongue, however clumsily. Even that clumsy stimulation caused his passion to rapidly intensify.
“Hands too.”
Bjorn nodded and pointed to the hand that lay listlessly on his shoulder.
Only then did Erna carefully wrap her arms around his neck. She mustered up the courage to move her hand slightly, feeling his strong bones and smooth muscles.
Erna, momentarily distracted by the strange sensation, absentmindedly lowered her gaze to where she felt the foreign substance. A sigh escaped her lips as she blinked slowly.
It's not the first time, but it's become more and more distant.
If that day had been so surprising and unfamiliar, now it was filled with fear. She hadn't regained consciousness for even a moment since he entered her, but the pain that tore through her body was still deeply etched in her memory.
Following Erna's anxious glance, Bjorn lowered his eyes and chuckled, grabbing her small, frozen hand. He then calmly guided it downward. Erna, realizing his purpose, flinched and struggled, but Bjorn remained unmoved.
“Teach me.”
Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he stared at Erna, who shook her head sharply. He smiled slowly, watching Erna, who was startled by the unfamiliar sensation that finally reached her hand.
“You have to study hard.”
He tightly wrapped his hand around Erna's, who was trembling and unable to support herself.
“Move, Erna.”
The moment she heard that order, mixed with a wet, hot sigh, Erna suddenly missed Mrs. Peg. It was a regret that was now too late.
"Lips."
Bjorn's soft voice seeped into the suppressed moans.
As Erna stubbornly pressed her lips together, he reached out and grabbed her chin. Gradually, as the grip tightened, Erna, helpless, parted her lips, releasing the breath and moan she had been holding back.
Only then did Bjorn smile with satisfaction and position himself between Erna's legs as she lay panting on the bed. He aligned her entrance and began to slowly thrust, causing Erna to sob in pain and wring her hands around his shoulders.
A wave of embarrassment flashed through Bjorn, but he didn't stop. His wife was already soaking wet, staining not only between her legs but even the sheets. He didn't know how to be more devoted to a woman. Even if he did, the time for it had long since run out.
He gripped her buttocks, where his handprints were etched in various patterns, and thrust in all at once. Erna twisted her body and bit her lip again.
“Make some noise.”
Bjorn began to move his hips and commanded again. A warm, tightening sensation drew a ragged sigh.
“Bjorn, I’m so... so embarrassed.”
Erna, staring into those beautiful, cold gray eyes, pleaded with despair. She had already committed many unspeakably shameful acts, but the moans, which even to her ears sounded obscene, were truly unbearable.
“I like that, Erna.”
Erna's brow furrowed as she faced Bjorn, who was smiling sweetly.
What a bad taste it is to enjoy the suffering of others.
There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn't feel like she could find the words to say them properly.
Erna swayed helplessly as he thrust deeper and deeper. The sound of wet flesh slapping against her began to rise rapidly. She couldn't decide whether to be relieved by the fact that there was a sound far more embarrassing than a moan, or to cry.
“Ha, don’t. Please. Ah...!”
As Bjorn's hand reached down again, Erna began to sob and squirm. She tried desperately to push him away, but it was no use. All she could do was writhe and groan, almost like a scream.
The moment she was overwhelmed by an irresistible force brought back memories of being beaten. Even though she knew it was completely different, her body cringed. The sound of being beaten, the feeling of helplessness, the fear of an opponent she couldn't possibly face, had a strange resemblance.
Just when she felt like she'd completely forgotten how to breathe, Bjorn fortunately offered his hand. Slowing his movements for a moment, he leaned down to meet Erna's face.
“Hug me.”
Bjorn calmly instructed the foolish woman who was just enduring the precarious shaking.
“Do you like that too?”
Erna's impertinent question stunned Bjorn. Licking his lips, which had become chapped from the heat, Bjorn nodded in frustration.
"Yes."
Bjorn briefly kissed Erna's eyes, which were filled with tears.
"I like it."
It was quite an impulsive prank to lightly bite her cheek, which was as red as a ripe apple.
Erna, frowning and squeezing, obediently embraced him. The awkward way her hands gently stroked his neck and shoulders was adorable.
Bjorn sighed and returned to his original purpose. Even panting, almost out of breath, Erna clung to him tightly, clinging to him. She was a woman so absurdly naive, yet the way she twitched, tightened, and swallowed her insides was so stimulating, it was almost unbelievable.
Bjorn increased his pace, showering her with kisses on her wet eyes, flushed cheeks, and trembling lips.
He had a feeling that his wife's health would improve without any help.
Bjorn, who had a wife without a will, left bed late at night.
As he was trying to get up, wearing a gown, Erna, who was lying curled up as if dead, gently grabbed his hand.
Bjorn lowered his eyes to his wife, as if questioning the reason. Erna, who had pulled the sheet over her naked body and clumsily wrapped it around her, finally opened her trembling lips after a long moment.
“It’s okay to stay here.”
It was a generous tone, as if she were showing tolerance.
“I sleep quietly. I don’t have any sleeping habits.”
Even so, it's a weak voice, like someone about to die.
“Get some rest.”
Bjorn smiled, looking into the large, slowly blinking eyes.
“Let’s have lunch together. At your favorite restaurant.”
After a moment of thought, Bjorn gently brushed back the hair covering Erna's cheek. Erna let go of his hand and obediently accepted it.
“Good night, Erna.”
Bjorn bent down and kissed her still flushed cheek before turning away.
As the door closed, an eerie silence fell over the bedroom.
Erna stared blankly at the closed door and fell asleep.
The bedroom door opened without a knock. It was Bjorn.
Erna, sitting on the edge of the bed, nervously twisting the hem of her pajamas, stared at him with wide, startled eyes. Unsure of what to do, she froze in place as Bjorn approached.
As she tried to lower her head, a large hand grasped her chin. Erna's trembling eyes were helplessly drawn to the hand, finally gazing upon Bjorn.
“How far have you learned?”
In contrast to his cold, hard hands, the smile on Bjorn's lips was soft.
“...I don’t know.”
Erna, who had been agonizing over it, ultimately chose to lie. She felt it would be better to bite her tongue than to say she'd run away to learn how to please her husband when she wasn't feeling well.
“I don’t remember.”
When she looked into Bjorn's hazy eyes, she felt a pang of pain and swallowed dryly without realizing it.
"Yes?"
Bjorn chuckled and sat down next to Erna.
“Then I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning.”
By the time she understood what he meant, Erna was already in bed. Memories of that painful and humiliating first night, brought back by the oppressive body atop her, flooded back. Along with the grotesque illustrations and embarrassing descriptions she's seen in the booklet Mrs. Peg had brought, came the same.
“If you want to kiss, Erna.”
Strength was added to the tips of Bjorn's fingers as he stroked Erna's lips.
“You have to spread it.”
Even though he met Erna's trembling eyes, Bjorn made his request without hesitation.
"Hurry."
Although the tone was affectionate, there was no warmth in the calm, settled eyes.
Erna, who had been hesitating, finally opened her lips. She had to refuse him, but he was a man who could do whatever he wanted if he wanted. That was the awakening their first night had given her.
Bjorn thrust his tongue between her parted lips in one breath. Erna reflexively flinched, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away.
A wife's duties.
It was a short lesson, but it was enough to learn what it meant. A wife has a duty to please her husband in the bedroom, and that's crucial for a smooth marriage.
Erna didn't quite understand how such a thing could be enjoyable, but she knew for sure that her husband didn't find her happy. No, he was so displeased that she didn't want to see him again. In other words, this marriage was doomed from the start.
The kiss continued longer and more persistently than on the first night.
He swirled her around in his mouth, his tongue tingling and entangling relentlessly until it finally began to tingle, before he finally let go of Erna. Their breaths, leaking from between their red, saliva-soaked lips, had already become ragged.
“I don’t like this kind of thing.”
Bjorn smiled slightly and took off Erna's nightgown, which was tightly buttoned and tied with a ribbon all the way to the neck.
“It’s a hassle, I don’t really like it.”
“Oh, I’ll wear different pajamas from now on.”
"No."
Patiently unbuttoning the last button, Bjorn removed the cumbersome pile of lace from his wife's body.
“Don’t wear anything.”
He pulled down the panties, which were smaller than the palm of his hand, in one fell swoop. The ribbons and lace they were adorned with were both absurd and adorable.
“I’m going to take it off anyway.”
Bjorn briefly kissed his dazed wife's cheek, then lifted her naked body and placed it on his lap. Erna's small scream, startled by the sudden change in position, echoed sharply through the darkness.
Bjorn frowned slightly, examining his flushed wife and the gap between her legs, which weren't quite wet enough. It was amusing how he didn't dislike her, despite her being quite clumsy and annoying. Well, of course, no man would dislike a body like this.
It was a pale body, as if it had been made from moonlight.
It felt like the texture of cold, smooth glass or porcelain, but it actually felt incredibly soft and warm to the touch. Bjorn liked that contrast.
“Bjorn...”
Erna, flustered and unsure of what to do, looked at him pleadingly. As if begging him to do something, even though she didn't know what it was. So brazenly and pitifully.
Bjorn, his laughter growing more heated, buried his face in the bosom swaying before him without hesitation. The freshly washed woman exuded a sweet, soft body odor. The scent, which intensified with each suck, and the "eung" and "eung" moans, which sounded like crying, made him increasingly obsessed.
Having already removed his own half-naked gown, Bjorn lowered his hand between Erna's trembling legs. The woman's insides, which held him effortlessly, were soft and moist enough to make a sloppy sound. However, thinking back to that night, when she had cried in pain, wet as she was, he couldn't easily be convinced.
After a brief moment of deliberation, Bjorn swallowed her small, quivering lips again. The wet hand that had been tightly wrapped around Erna's back as she tried to run away gleamed in the fireplace light.
“Don’t just sit there like a corpse, move.”
Erna's lips parted obediently, but that was all. Bjorn commanded her in a low, hushed voice. Erna looked at him with confused eyes.
“What?”
“First, the tongue.”
As if to reveal what he desired, Bjorn swallowed Erna's lips. Erna, following his entangled, sucking strokes, moved her tongue, however clumsily. Even that clumsy stimulation caused his passion to rapidly intensify.
“Hands too.”
Bjorn nodded and pointed to the hand that lay listlessly on his shoulder.
Only then did Erna carefully wrap her arms around his neck. She mustered up the courage to move her hand slightly, feeling his strong bones and smooth muscles.
Erna, momentarily distracted by the strange sensation, absentmindedly lowered her gaze to where she felt the foreign substance. A sigh escaped her lips as she blinked slowly.
It's not the first time, but it's become more and more distant.
If that day had been so surprising and unfamiliar, now it was filled with fear. She hadn't regained consciousness for even a moment since he entered her, but the pain that tore through her body was still deeply etched in her memory.
Following Erna's anxious glance, Bjorn lowered his eyes and chuckled, grabbing her small, frozen hand. He then calmly guided it downward. Erna, realizing his purpose, flinched and struggled, but Bjorn remained unmoved.
“Teach me.”
Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he stared at Erna, who shook her head sharply. He smiled slowly, watching Erna, who was startled by the unfamiliar sensation that finally reached her hand.
“You have to study hard.”
He tightly wrapped his hand around Erna's, who was trembling and unable to support herself.
“Move, Erna.”
The moment she heard that order, mixed with a wet, hot sigh, Erna suddenly missed Mrs. Peg. It was a regret that was now too late.
"Lips."
Bjorn's soft voice seeped into the suppressed moans.
As Erna stubbornly pressed her lips together, he reached out and grabbed her chin. Gradually, as the grip tightened, Erna, helpless, parted her lips, releasing the breath and moan she had been holding back.
Only then did Bjorn smile with satisfaction and position himself between Erna's legs as she lay panting on the bed. He aligned her entrance and began to slowly thrust, causing Erna to sob in pain and wring her hands around his shoulders.
A wave of embarrassment flashed through Bjorn, but he didn't stop. His wife was already soaking wet, staining not only between her legs but even the sheets. He didn't know how to be more devoted to a woman. Even if he did, the time for it had long since run out.
He gripped her buttocks, where his handprints were etched in various patterns, and thrust in all at once. Erna twisted her body and bit her lip again.
“Make some noise.”
Bjorn began to move his hips and commanded again. A warm, tightening sensation drew a ragged sigh.
“Bjorn, I’m so... so embarrassed.”
Erna, staring into those beautiful, cold gray eyes, pleaded with despair. She had already committed many unspeakably shameful acts, but the moans, which even to her ears sounded obscene, were truly unbearable.
“I like that, Erna.”
Erna's brow furrowed as she faced Bjorn, who was smiling sweetly.
What a bad taste it is to enjoy the suffering of others.
There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn't feel like she could find the words to say them properly.
Erna swayed helplessly as he thrust deeper and deeper. The sound of wet flesh slapping against her began to rise rapidly. She couldn't decide whether to be relieved by the fact that there was a sound far more embarrassing than a moan, or to cry.
“Ha, don’t. Please. Ah...!”
As Bjorn's hand reached down again, Erna began to sob and squirm. She tried desperately to push him away, but it was no use. All she could do was writhe and groan, almost like a scream.
The moment she was overwhelmed by an irresistible force brought back memories of being beaten. Even though she knew it was completely different, her body cringed. The sound of being beaten, the feeling of helplessness, the fear of an opponent she couldn't possibly face, had a strange resemblance.
Just when she felt like she'd completely forgotten how to breathe, Bjorn fortunately offered his hand. Slowing his movements for a moment, he leaned down to meet Erna's face.
“Hug me.”
Bjorn calmly instructed the foolish woman who was just enduring the precarious shaking.
“Do you like that too?”
Erna's impertinent question stunned Bjorn. Licking his lips, which had become chapped from the heat, Bjorn nodded in frustration.
"Yes."
Bjorn briefly kissed Erna's eyes, which were filled with tears.
"I like it."
It was quite an impulsive prank to lightly bite her cheek, which was as red as a ripe apple.
Erna, frowning and squeezing, obediently embraced him. The awkward way her hands gently stroked his neck and shoulders was adorable.
Bjorn sighed and returned to his original purpose. Even panting, almost out of breath, Erna clung to him tightly, clinging to him. She was a woman so absurdly naive, yet the way she twitched, tightened, and swallowed her insides was so stimulating, it was almost unbelievable.
Bjorn increased his pace, showering her with kisses on her wet eyes, flushed cheeks, and trembling lips.
He had a feeling that his wife's health would improve without any help.
***
Bjorn, who had a wife without a will, left bed late at night.
As he was trying to get up, wearing a gown, Erna, who was lying curled up as if dead, gently grabbed his hand.
Bjorn lowered his eyes to his wife, as if questioning the reason. Erna, who had pulled the sheet over her naked body and clumsily wrapped it around her, finally opened her trembling lips after a long moment.
“It’s okay to stay here.”
It was a generous tone, as if she were showing tolerance.
“I sleep quietly. I don’t have any sleeping habits.”
Even so, it's a weak voice, like someone about to die.
“Get some rest.”
Bjorn smiled, looking into the large, slowly blinking eyes.
“Let’s have lunch together. At your favorite restaurant.”
After a moment of thought, Bjorn gently brushed back the hair covering Erna's cheek. Erna let go of his hand and obediently accepted it.
“Good night, Erna.”
Bjorn bent down and kissed her still flushed cheek before turning away.
As the door closed, an eerie silence fell over the bedroom.
Erna stared blankly at the closed door and fell asleep.
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