Defective Banana - Chapter 30

Seohyuk bit down on his lower lip, forcing himself to endure the throbbing thirst crawling up his spine.

If he didn’t want to get kicked out by Ara, he had no choice but to exercise extreme self-restraint.

The desire to knead that soft, pale skin was almost unbearable—but still, he stayed perfectly still, only his eyes shifting around like a mouse trying not to breathe.

And yet, despite the torture, a strange kind of thrill simmered inside him. That made it just barely tolerable—maybe even satisfying.

About twenty minutes passed.

Ara stood up, moved her half-finished painting to one side of the studio, and placed a fresh canvas on the easel. Then, with a glance at the silently suffering Seohyuk, she called him over casually.

“Seohyuk.”

He responded like a soldier snapping to attention.

“Yes. What is it?”

“I suddenly got inspired to do something.”

“I’m in.”

His reflexive answer made Ara let out an amused snort.

She laughed—out loud—because it was just that ridiculous, then squinted at him as if he were a walking mystery.

“You don’t even know what it is. Why are you so eager?”

Seohyuk stretched his back, shrugged dramatically, and grinned.

“If it’s something you want, I’m all in.”

“Is that so? Then get up and take your clothes off. All of them. Top and bottom.”

Seohyuk blinked once at the sharp, clear instruction, then gulped, a flicker of excitement tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You want me to undress?”

Ara answered with total calm.

“Yes. And while you’re at it, go ahead and masturbate. Right here. I want to borrow your aroused body. Just for the feeling—I won’t be drawing your face, so don’t worry about that.”

“Ah… so you want to draw this body?” he said, amused. “You should’ve just said so earlier. Got it.”

Without hesitation, he stood up and started undressing.

Seohyuk was confident in his body. He stripped off everything, sat down nude on the chair, and struck a strong, photo-shoot-worthy pose. Then, gripping his member with one large hand, he turned to Ara.

“Like this?”

“Look at me while you do it. I need to catch the expression when you’re putting in effort.”

“I’ve been photographed before, sure—but I’ve never modeled like this, completely nude.”

All 190 centimeters of his muscular frame filled her view.

“Ha… Ara, the thing is… this isn’t working quite yet. I’m gonna go over there and have a… private conversation with him first.”

He turned toward the wall, braced his arm against it, and began stimulating himself.

Ara simply watched, waiting silently.

The lines of his back rippled with strength. Broad shoulders, carved-out lats, and that distinct curve of his lower spine leading to firm glutes—it was all distractingly attractive.

His legs, firm and solid with split muscles, made her want to reach out and run her hands over them.

As he worked himself up, his glutes clenched hard enough to flex and pop like they had minds of their own. The muscles in his arms, holding him steady, bulged like they might burst.

Five minutes passed.

Ara finally called out, maybe a bit impatiently.

“Seohyuk? Just come sit down. I’ll help.”

He returned to the chair, still gripping his now semi-erect c0ck.

Ara stepped in front of him and said plainly, “I’m going to slap you now. It’ll hurt—don’t complain.”

“Wait—Ara, how about a kiss instea—”

Smack!

Before he could finish, she slapped his cheek.

The impact sent a tremor through his body—right down to his groin. His member, startled and stimulated, instantly swelled. As it stood up proudly, Ara smiled in satisfaction.

“Seriously, what would you do without me…”

Seohyuk looked at her with heated eyes.

“…Can I get that kiss now?”

Ara cupped both his cheeks and leaned in.

Smack— a soft, audible kiss.

“That was a peck. Once we’re done here, I’ll give you a real one.”

His eyes lit up like a man who’d just been given a holy mission.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he murmured, striking his pose again.

The thrill was unmistakable. Ara smiled quietly to herself.

There was something deeply satisfying about how easily she could control not just his body, but that submissive, eager-to-please part of Seohyuk’s personality too.

“Seohyuk, lift your head a little.”

“Like this?”

One hand resting on the chair for support, the other gripping his c0ck, Seohyuk looked like a sculpture brought to life.

“Perfect. Keep touching yourself. Don’t stop until I say so.”

His hand moved rhythmically, the thick shaft pulsing and darkening with bl00d.

With each movement, his breath grew hotter, his voice rougher.

“Ha… hh, nnngh…”

Ara swapped canvases, sketching his clenched jaw, parted lips, broad shoulders, abs, forearms, thighs—every defined muscle, every tension line.

His panting got louder. Her strokes got faster.

Scritch, scritch, swish.

Then—his breathing hit a breaking point.

“Haaahh… Ara, can I please get a kiss now?”

“Almost done. Just hold out a little longer.”

“Just one minute?”

She quickly swapped in a new canvas and resumed sketching furiously.

Seohyuk’s face twisted with effort. He gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow.

“Ugh… Ara?”

His black eyes lost focus. He stared at her with pleading desperation.

Without a word, Ara grabbed some tissues and moved in, wrapping her hand gently around the head of his c0ck.

“You can finish now.”

“Hngh… Ara, ahh—!”

With a strained groan, his whole body tensed, releasing everything he’d been holding back.

His forearm veins bulged from the intensity, and Ara couldn’t help but admire the scene—memorizing even the grimace on his flushed face.

“Your body, your expressions… they’re honestly works of art.”

She stroked his cheek, leaned in, and kissed him—this time, a real one.

Mouths tangled, tongues sliding, her hand pressing against his jaw. When she finally pulled away, she whispered:

“Now go home, take a shower, and rest. You did well today.”

But Seohyuk clutched her arm, voice urgent.

“Can’t I just shower here?”

“Here?”

She hesitated, then nodded with a small sigh. Kicking someone out right after that felt a little heartless.

“Okay, fine. Grab your clothes and follow me.”

Blushing and mussed-up, Seohyuk gathered his things and followed her out.

Since the main bathroom was full of painting tools and brushes, Ara guided him into the master bedroom’s en suite.

“You can shower here. I’ll keep working. Come back to the studio when you’re done.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once she left, Seohyuk looked around the room he’d been so curious about.

A white bed. Neatly stacked books on the desk. Green potted plants glowing in the sunlight. The scent of flowers hung in the air.

On the vanity, two small framed photos. One of her with her parents, the other with her grandmother.

Next to them… would there ever be a photo of the two of them, side by side?

Seohyuk allowed himself a tiny hope as he stepped into the bathroom.

While he showered, Ara reviewed the sketches and began the next phase of her work—layering paint over knife-sculpted outlines, adding depth, texture, and warmth to his body’s form.

Some areas needed sharpness, others a velvety softness. The palette knife did both.

She added shading, built up dimension, and, after applying two or three coats, set it aside—it would take a full week to dry properly.

Setting the knife down, she tilted her head.

Seohyuk had been gone a while. Way longer than a shower. Did he head home without saying goodbye? No way. That wasn’t like him.

Frowning slightly, she removed her apron and walked toward the bedroom.

“Seohyuk? You still in there?”

Silence.

She walked to the bathroom… but heard nothing. Not even water.

She turned, almost absentmindedly, and caught sight of his clothes, still draped over the vanity chair.

Then her eyes shifted to the bed—sunlight filtering softly through the curtains. A long silhouette was curled up under the white blanket.