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3.) The Mortal James "Imagining New Beginnings"


My second day.


I enquired about the lighning that I had seen the night before but the front desk clerk said he had not heard anything of the sort. So I shrugged if off and went out exploring again. This time I ended up at Notre Dame.


Notre Dame was...is as beautiful as they say it is. It was truly breathtaking. I took pictures and pictures, every part of it seem to scream out 'Look at me!' I even sat for a while listening to the silence and the occasional mumbling and shuffling of feet. It had been odd though, at one point, two men came running through, disturbing the solace of the church's peaceful atmosphere. A lot of patrons ran for the door, as the two men shouted obscene words to one another and ... it could have been my imagination, but I seen one of them carrying a sword. As soon as they left the building, I got up from where I had ducked down at and went out quickly. To my surprise, I was more curious than I thought and ran around toward the other side of the church, to where I think they would have came out at but there was no sign of either of them. The people around me did not seem to take notice and if they had, they quickly forgotten about it or just didnโ€™t care.


I wandered along the river bank for a bit. I could not get what I had seen out of my head. Explanation after explanation crossed my mind. It could have just been two actors practicing for a movie but if that were the case, the church would have been blocked off ... wouldn't it? I would have seen cameras in place, they wouldn't have just let anyone in... right? Then I thought, hidden cameras, the director wanted to get a more real life look, real reactions from the patrons and so they didn't tell anyone and the cameras were hidden. That had to be it. As soon as I was settled on that reasoning, that explanation, I started back to my hotel.


On the way, as I crossed a bridge, I happen to look down on the river and seen what I think would be called a barge, docked at the riverโ€™s edge. There was a little man placing a huge sign that said, 'Pour Louer'. My written French was a little rusty but it was enough to get by on, I knew what 'louer' meant, so I went down to take a look.


It had looked like a pretty good sized barge from up on the bridge but once I was actually standing next to it, it was massive. From stern to bow, I could not imagine what the inside looked like, especially since I had never been on one before. The little man came rushing out, and of course speaking French to me. I had kindly told him that I did not speak very good French. He looked at me with the biggest eyes and smile and in his best English introduced himself as Martin and asked if I was looking for a home to rent. I told him no, that I was just visiting and was curious as to what it looked like inside. So he motioned to me to come in.


We entered on the starboard side, down through some stairs. When he opened the door, there came a musky scent, like someone had been burning incense. I asked him about that, he said that he had not burned anything of the sort and he had not cleaned it since the owner called him almost two months before. I asked even further about the owner, I had initially thought Martin was the owner. As we went inside, I was taken back, it was spacious, clearly like a studio apartment. On the other end, which was a few steps higher, by what looked like the back door, was the bedroom area. An empty unmade bed sat. I looked up, down, and around as I moved toward the back door. And for some reason, I felt like I could live here. I felt like I had come home.


I could hear Martin talking about the owner, some of it I had caught but once we were inside, I did not hear much of the rest. What I did catch was that the owner had been gone for quite some time, months from the sound of it, and had decided he wasn't going to return for a while. He and Martin's brother were very good friends and had left the barge in his care, but his brother had passed on years ago. So Martin had taken over looking after the place, he became the caretaker. Moving it when it needed to be moved. Apparently, the owner had released the barge to Martin to use as he wished and so he decided would rent it out for the extra income.


Martin laughed. I turned and looked at him and asked what he was laughing about. He said that the owner told him not to put the barge here, to let it dock someplace else but he said this is the best spot, they argued about it over the phone and then the owner warned him that if anything happens, to remember that he was warned. Martin laughed again. Maybe it had been the tone of the conversation that made him laugh, I thought it sounded a little odd. I took one last look around and we headed back out.


He was explaining that it was in great working condition, how much the rent would be, and that he had three others already looking at it. I stopped midway on the ramp and turned to him and asked how long he had the sign up. He shrugged and said a week now. Even though I had just seen him put the sign up just before arriving here, I went along with it. He gave me his name and number if I ever changed my mind.


It was dark out, I couldn't believe how late and how fast it came. I went back to the bridge. I stood up there looking down on the barge. I seen Martin leaving, I could hear him whistling. Surprisingly, it was quiet, so much I could hear the water rushing under me. I could hear music echoing from the street, I could even hear a couple laughing somewhere. I began to picture myself living here, for a short while that is or maybe for the rest of my life. Even maybe someone buying that barge from Martin or from the owner, whomever owned it now. As I began to think and imagine more on this new found concept, I headed back to my hotel. I decided to walk, it was a nice night and my path would take me by the Eiffel Tower, I would be able to take a picture on my way.

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5.) The Mortal James "An Adventure, Perhaps"
Day Five. I finally left my hotel room. I couldn't help but look over my shoulder nearly every minute. I was paranoid that was for sure. I kept trying to reassure myself that if I did not see the other guy, then its more likely that he did not see me either. I don't know what he looks like, so he must not know what I look like. That definitely eased my paranoia a bit. As I was sitting at this little cafe, I happen to look over and caught this beautiful woman looking at me. Of course she looked away quickly, so I looked away. I slowly looked at her again from the corner of my eye hoping to catch her gaze again but she looked on at her newspaper, drinking her coffee. Every now and then I would look around, looking her way. She kept her eyes on the newspaper. I don't know, maybe it was just my imagination or my amateur sleuthing but she never turned a page and she didn't look like she was reading. Her eyes were glued to one spot on the page, whatever it was. I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead into my hands. There was something happening, I could feel it growing in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want to believe it, I truly didn't and I think that was what was holding me back from actually seeing the reality of what was going on or that I was in deeper than what I wanted to believe. I opened my eyes when I heard a phone ringing. I looked over and she was answering it. She was speaking to someone. She wasn't speaking French or English, it sounded like Italian. In the middle of her conversation, she glanced at me and quickly looked down at the ground, hung up and left in a hurry leaving her newspaper and coffee behind. I happen to look over in the direction she had gone, before she disappeared around the corner, she looked back at me. For a moment, we seen each other, our gaze met and it lasted longer than I had anticipated but there was something else. Not a look of interest that a woman gives a man but a look of curiosity, a look that said, I know what you know. And she was gone...... but not for long. I looked at my hands, they were shaking. I had not noticed it until then. I couldn't get the headless man in the alley out of my head. I don't think I really slept the whole time I was in my room. I kept having that strange feeling that I was being watched, even as I sat at the little cafe, I could feel someone watching me. I drank my coffee and left. My hotel room didn't feel safe. As I said before, it felt like someone was watching me. I wanted to leave, just jump on a plane and go home. Leave all this BS behind me. I couldn't though. I wasn't due to leave for another two weeks and my room was paid up until then. I wanted to stay as well, when I really thought about it, there was nothing for me at home, I know there wasn't, except my cat but she would be well taken care of should I not return. Here, in Paris, this great mysterious thing was happening, unfolding before me. So, now, I had two choices, return home to the boring mundane life of living everyday in silent misery or stay, find out what that business was all about the other night, who the pretty dark haired lady was, put my mind at ease that I wasnโ€™t seen, and perhaps even get shot at or even killed. An adventure. As I sorted through my wallet thinking on it, I came across a business card with an address and directions. If that wasn't a sure hint as to the direction I should take, then I do not know what was. So be it, to the countryside I will go. I returned to my hotel, cautious of my surroundings. I stood at the lobby doors, looking around, taking a photographic memory of each person in that lobby, quickly analyzing everyone's movement. There had been someone on the phone when I walked in, they had glanced at my way briefly, I took note of it; a man, young, black hair, dark complexion, very dark eyes, looked Indian or maybe even Arabic. When I looked back, he was gone. I told the desk clerk that I would be in for the night and did not want to be disturbed, a lie of course but what else was I to say, that I was checking out, no I did not want that known. For all I knew, the desk clerk could be in on it. In all the great mysteries I have ever watched, no one can be trusted, be suspicious of everyone. If you can't tell, I watched a lot of movies, it was my hobby and my passion. I had been watching them since I was kid, spending every weekend at the theaters. Watching movie after movie, and this was feeling very much like a movie. Dead bodies and a mysterious beautiful woman, yeah, definitely not a comedy. I packed up my bags. I waited until the next morning to leave but for now, I made my way down to the dining hall and ate dinner like I usually do. Previous Card 4 .... Next Card 6 Readers: @MelissaGarza @sukkyonwanser @babysanchez1253 @KristinaCaron @Sugasadamsapple @sajjadjutt @CallMeMsDragon @VeronicaArtino (TAGS: So if you are interested in being tagged for this story, just hit like and I'll tag ya in the upcoming cards.)
์–ด๋‘ ์˜ ์™ผ์†
'์–ด๋‘ ์˜ ์™ผ์†' / ์–ด์Š๋Ÿฌ K.๋ฅด ๊ท„ ์ € (์ง€๊ทนํžˆ ์ฃผ๊ด€์ ์ธ ์ œ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ์“ด ๊ธ€์ž…๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.) ์–ด๋‘ ์˜ ์™ผ์†์€ ๋ฌด์—‡์ผ๊นŒ? ์„ ๋œป ์ƒ๊ฐ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์ด ์—†๋‹ค. ๋‹ฌ? ์•…๋งˆ? ๋ฌด(็„ก)? ์ด ์†Œ์„ค์—์„œ๋Š” ์˜ˆ์ƒ์น˜ ๋ชปํ•œ ๋‹ต์„ ๋‚ด๋†“๋Š”๋‹ค. ๋‘ ๋ช…์˜ ์ฃผ์ธ๊ณต, ์•„์ด์™€ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์˜ ์—ฌ์ •์„ ๋”ฐ๋ผ๊ฐ€๋‹ค ๋ณด๋ฉด ์ €์ ˆ๋กœ ์ดํ•ดํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๊ฒŒ ๋˜๋Š” ๋‹ต์„. ํ–‰์„ฑ๋“ค์˜ ๋ฌธํ™”์ , ๊ฒฝ์ œ์  ์—ฐํ•ฉ์ฒด์ธ ์—ํ๋ฉ˜์€ ์ธ๋ฅ˜์˜ ์ง„๋ณด์™€ ๋ฐœ์ „์„ ์œ„ํ•œ ์ง€์‹ ๊ณต์œ ๋ฅผ ์ฃผ ๋ชฉ์ ์œผ๋กœ ์•„์ง ์—ํ๋ฉ˜์˜ ์ผ์›์ด ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์€ ํ–‰์„ฑ๋“ค์— ํŠน์‚ฌ๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋‚ด ์—ํ๋ฉ˜ ๊ฐ€์ž…์„ ์š”์ฒญํ•œ๋‹ค. ์—ํ๋ฉ˜์˜ ํŠน์‚ฌ ์ค‘ ํ•œ ๋ช…์œผ๋กœ ๊ฒŒ์„ผ ํ–‰์„ฑ์ด ์—ํ๋ฉ˜์˜ ์ผ์›์ด ๋˜๋„๋ก ์„ค๋“ํ•˜๋ผ๋Š” ์ž„๋ฌด๋ฅผ ๋ฐ›์€ ๊ฒ๋ฆฌ ์•„์ด๋Š” ๊ฒŒ์„ผ ํ–‰์„ฑ์˜ ๋ถ€์กฑ ๊ตญ๊ฐ€์™€ ๋น„์Šทํ•œ ๊ฐœ๋…์˜ ๊ณต๋™์ฒด, ์นด๋ฅดํžˆ๋ฐ์— ๋„์ฐฉํ•œ๋‹ค. ์นด๋ฅดํžˆ๋ฐ์˜ ์ˆ˜์ƒ์ธ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์˜ ๋„์›€์œผ๋กœ ์•„๋ฅด๊ฐ€๋ฒค ์™•์—๊ฒŒ ์—ํ๋ฉ˜ ๊ฐ€์ž…์„ ์„ค๋“ํ•˜๋ ค๋˜ ์ฐจ์— ์™•์˜ ์‚ฌ์ดŒ์ธ ํ‹ฐ๋ฒ ๊ฐ€ ๊ถŒ๋ ฅ์„ ์žก๊ธฐ ์œ„ํ•ด ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์„ ๋ชจํ•จํ•˜๊ณ  ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์ด ์—ญ์  ์ทจ๊ธ‰์„ ๋ฐ›์œผ๋ฉฐ ์ถ”๋ฐฉ๋‹นํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋˜์žย ๊ทธ์˜ ๋„์›€์„ ๋ฐ›๊ณ  ์žˆ๋˜ ์•„์ด์˜ ์ž„๋ฌด๊นŒ์ง€ ์‹คํŒจํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋œ๋‹ค. ์•„์ด๋Š” ํฌ๊ธฐํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š๊ณ  ์นด๋ฅดํžˆ๋ฐ์™€ ๋Œ€๋ฆฝํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋Š” ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๊ตญ๊ฐ€, ์˜ค๋ฅด๊ณ ๋ ˆ์ธ์—์„œ ์—ํ๋ฉ˜ ๊ฐ€์ž…์„ ์„ค๋“ํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ดํ•ด๊ด€๊ณ„์™€ ์ •์น˜์  ๋Œ€๋ฆฝ์— ํœ˜๋ง๋ฆฐ ์•„์ด๋Š” ๋ฒ”์ฃ„์ž ์ทจ๊ธ‰์„ ๋ฐ›์œผ๋ฉฐ ์˜ค๋ฅด๊ณ ๋ ˆ์ธ์—์„œ ์ซ“๊ฒจ๋‚˜ ๋…ธ๋™์˜ ํ˜•๋ฒŒ์„ ๋ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋˜๊ณ  ์ฃฝ์–ด๊ฐ€๋Š” ์•„์ด๋ฅผ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์ด ๊ตฌํ•ด๋‚ธ๋‹ค. ๊ฒŒ์„ผ ํ–‰์„ฑ์„ ์—ํ๋ฉ˜์— ๊ฐ€์ž…์‹œ์ผœ์•ผ ํ•˜๋Š” ์ž„๋ฌด๋ฅผ ๋ฐ›์€ ์•„์ด, ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์˜ ์—ํ๋ฉ˜ ๊ฐ€์ž…์ด ๊ฒŒ์„ผ ์ „์ฒด ์ธ๋ฅ˜์˜ ์ง„๋ณด๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์˜ฌ ๊ฒƒ์ด๋ผ ๋ฏฟ๋Š” ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์€ ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ์˜ ๋ˆˆ์—๋„ ๋„์ง€ ์•Š๊ณ  ์นด๋ฅดํžˆ๋ฐ๋กœ ๋Œ์•„๊ฐ€ ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์˜ ์—ํ๋ฉ˜ ๊ฐ€์ž…์„ ์„ฑ๊ณต์‹œํ‚ค๊ธฐ ์œ„ํ•ด ๋์—†์ด ํŽผ์ณ์ง„ ๋น™์› ์œ„๋ฅผ ํ†ต๊ณผํ•ด์•ผ๋งŒ ํ•˜๋Š” ์ƒํ™ฉ์— ๋†“์ธ๋‹ค. ์•„์ด์™€ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์€ ๊ณผ์—ฐ ๊ธฐ๋‚˜๊ธด ๋น™์› ์œ„์—์„œ ํŽผ์ณ์งˆ ๊ณ ๋œ ์—ฌ์ •์„ ๋ฌด์‚ฌํžˆ ๋๋งˆ์น  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์„๊นŒ? ์–ธ๋œป ์Šคํ† ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋ฉด SF ์†Œ์„ค์ด๋ผ๊ธฐ๋ณด๋‹ค๋Š” ํŒํƒ€์ง€ ์†Œ์„ค ๊ฐ™์€ ๋Š๋‚Œ์ด ๋“ ๋‹ค. ์‚ฌ๊ณ„์ ˆ ๋‚ด๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์ด ๋‚ด๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๊ฒจ์šธ ํ–‰์„ฑ ๊ฒŒ์„ผ, ๋งˆ์น˜ ๋‚จ๊ทน์„ ํƒํ—˜ํ•˜๋Š” ๋“ฏํ•œ ์•„์ด์™€ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์˜ ๋น™์› ์œ„์˜ ์—ฌ์ •, ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์ธ๋“ค์˜ ํŠน์ดํ•œ ์„ฑ์  ํŠน์ง•(์ด ์†Œ์„ค์˜ ํ•ต์‹ฌ์ด๋‹ค.) ๋“ฑ๋“ฑ. ์—ํ๋ฉ˜์ด๋ผ๋Š” ํ–‰์„ฑ ๊ณต๋™์ฒด์˜ ํŠน์‚ฌ๊ฐ€ ๋ณด์—ฌ์ฃผ๋Š” SF ์  ๋ฉด๋ชจ์™€ ์ง€๊ตฌ์™€ ์ „ํ˜€ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๊ฒŒ์„ผ ํ–‰์„ฑ์˜ ํ™˜๊ฒฝ, ์ธ๋ฅ˜๊ฐ€ย ๋ณด์—ฌ์ฃผ๋Š” ํŒํƒ€์ง€์ ์ธ ํŠน์ง•์ด ์ ˆ๋ฌ˜ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์„ž์—ฌ ํ™˜์ƒ์ ์ด๊ณ  ์ƒˆ๋กœ์šด ์„ธ๊ณ„๋ฅผ ์ฐฝ์กฐํ•ด๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. ๊ฒŒ์„ผ ํ–‰์„ฑ์˜ ์ธ๊ฐ„๋“ค์€ ํ‰์†Œ์—๋Š” ์•„์˜ˆ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์ด ์กด์žฌํ•˜์ง€ย ์•Š๋Š”๋‹ค. ์„ฑ๋ณ„์ด ๋‚˜๋‰˜๋Š” ๋•Œ๋Š” 25~30์ผ๋งˆ๋‹ค ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ์”ฉ ๋Œ์•„์˜ค๋Š” ์ผ€๋ฉ”๋ฅด ์ฃผ๊ธฐ ๋•Œ๋ฟ์ด๋‹ค. ๊ฐ™์€ ์ผ€๋ฉ”๋ฅด์— ๋“  ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์—๊ฒŒ์„œ ํ’๊ธฐ๋Š” ์ฒด์ทจ, ํŽ˜๋กœ๋ชฌ ๋“ฑ์˜ ์ž‘์šฉ์— ์˜ํ•ด ๋‚จ์„ฑ, ํ˜น์€ ์—ฌ์„ฑ์œผ๋กœ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์ด ๊ฒฐ์ •๋˜๊ณ  ๊ทธ ์‹œ๊ธฐ์—๋งŒ ์ž„์‹ ์ด ๊ฐ€๋Šฅํ•˜๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์ผ€๋ฉ”๋ฅด๊ฐ€ ๋๋‚˜๋ฉด ๋‹ค์‹œ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์ด ์กด์žฌํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š๋Š” ์ƒํƒœ, ์†Œ๋ฉ”๋ฅด ์ฃผ๊ธฐ๋กœ ๋Œ์•„์˜จ๋‹ค. ์ฆ‰, ๋ชจ๋“  ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์ธ๋“ค์€ ๋‚จ์„ฑ์ด ๋  ์ˆ˜๋„, ์—ฌ์„ฑ์ด ๋  ์ˆ˜๋„ ์žˆ์œผ๋ฉฐ ์ž„์‹ ์„ ํ•  ์ˆ˜๋„ ์žˆ๊ณ  ์ถœ์‚ฐ์„ ํ•  ์ˆ˜๋„ ์žˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ๋•Œ๋ฌธ์— ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์ธ์€ ์•„์ง๋„ ํ™”๋กœ๋ผ๋Š” ๋ถ€์กฑ ๊ณต๋™์ฒด ๋‹จ์œ„์˜ ์ƒํ™œ์„ ์ง€์†ํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์œผ๋ฉฐ ์•„์ด์˜ ์ž„์‹ , ์ถœ์‚ฐ, ์–‘์œก ๋“ฑ์€ ๊ทธ ๋ถ€์กฑ ๊ณต๋™์ฒด ์ „์ฒด์˜ ์ž„๋ฌด๊ฐ€ ๋œ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ๋„ ์ž์‹ ์ด ์–ธ์ œ ์•„์ด๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ง€๊ฒŒ ๋ ์ง€, ๋˜ ์•„์ด๋ฅผ ๋‚ณ๊ฒŒ ๋ ์ง€ ์•Œ ์ˆ˜ ์—†๊ธฐ ๋•Œ๋ฌธ์ด๋‹ค. ํ˜„์žฌ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ์‚ฌํšŒ์˜ ํ•œ์ชฝ์—์„œ๋Š” ๋‚จ์„ฑ๊ณผ ์—ฌ์„ฑ์ด ์„œ๋กœ ๋ฐ˜๋Œ€ํŽธ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋‰˜์–ด ์ „์Ÿ์„ ํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋‹ค. ์„œ๋กœ๋ฅผ ๋น„๋‚œํ•˜๊ณ  ๋ชจ์š•ํ•˜๋ฉฐ ์ž์‹ ์ด ์†ํ•œ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์˜ ์ƒ๋Œ€์  ์šฐ์›”ํ•จ์„ ๊ณผ์‹œํ•œ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ง€์ ์—์„œ ์„ธ์ƒ์— ๋‚˜์˜จ ์ง€ 40๋…„์ด ์ง€๋‚œ ์ด ์†Œ์„ค์€ ์•„์ง๋„ ํž˜์„ ์žƒ์ง€ ์•Š๊ณ  ์‚ด์•„ ์ˆจ ์‰ฌ๊ฒŒ ๋œ๋‹ค. ์„ฑ๋ณ„์ด๋ž€ ๊ฒƒ์ด ์—†๋‹ค๋ฉด? ๊ทธ ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ๋„ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ์™€ ๋‹ค๋ฅด์ง€ ์•Š๋‹ค๋ฉด? ํƒœ์–ด๋‚˜๋ฉด์„œ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ๊ฐ€์ง€๊ฒŒ ๋˜๋Š” ์„ ์ฒœ์ ์ธ ์ฐจ์ด๊ฐ€ ์กด์žฌํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š๋Š”๋‹ค๋ฉด? ๊ทธ ๊ฐ„๋‹จํ•œ ์ƒ์ƒ ํ•˜๋‚˜์—์„œ ์ถœ๋ฐœํ•œ ์ด ์†Œ์„ค์€ ํ˜„๋Œ€ ์‚ฌํšŒ์—์„œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋Š” ์„ฑ๋ณ„ ๊ฐ„์˜ ๋‹คํˆผ์„ ๋‹ค์‹œ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•ด ๋ณด๋„๋ก ๋งŒ๋“ ๋‹ค. ์†Œ์„ค ์† ์ฃผ์ธ๊ณต์ธ ๊ฒ๋ฆฌ ์•„์ด๋Š” ์–ด๋Š ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ๋„ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์„ ๊ฐ€์ง€์ง€ ์•Š๋Š” ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์ธ๋“ค ์‚ฌ์ด์—์„œ ์œ ์ผํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•œ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์„ ์œ ์ง€ํ•˜๋Š” ์ง€๊ตฌ์ธ ๋‚จ์„ฑ์ด๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Š” ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์˜ ๋‹ค๋ฆ„์„ ์ธ์ •ํ•˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋ช‡์‹ญ ์ผ์— ๊ฑธ์นœ ๊ณ ๋œ ๋น™์› ์œ„์—์„œ์˜ ์—ฌ์ •์„ ํ•จ๊ป˜ ํ•ด ๋‚˜๊ฐ€๋ฉฐ ๊ฒจ์šฐ ๊ทธ๋ฅผ ์ง„์ •ํ•œ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋กœ, ์šฐ์ •์˜ ์ƒ๋Œ€๋กœ ๋ฐ›์•„๋“ค์ธ๋‹ค. ์ž์‹ ๊ณผ ์„ ์ฒœ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ํ•œ ์กด์žฌ๋ฅผ ๋งˆ์Œ์œผ๋กœ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ์ธ์ •ํ•˜๊ณ  ์ดํ•ดํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋˜๋Š” ์•„์ด. ๊ทธ ๋ชจ์Šต์„ ๋ณด๋ฉด์„œ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋„ ์–ธ์  ๊ฐ€๋Š” ๊ทธ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๊ธธ๊ณ  ๊ธด ๋‹คํˆผ์„ ๊ฒช์œผ๋ฉฐ ์„ฑ์žฅํ•ดย ์ž์‹ ๊ณผ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์„ ์ธ์ •ํ•˜๊ณ  ์ดํ•ดํ•˜๋Š” ๋•Œ๊ฐ€ ์˜ค์ง€ ์•Š์„๊นŒ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•ด๋ณธ๋‹ค. ์ด ์†Œ์„ค์€ ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ์„œ ํ•œ ๋ฐœ ๋” ๋‚˜์•„๊ฐ€ ์ธ๊ฐ„์˜ ์ด๋ถ„๋ฒ•์  ์‚ฌ๊ณ ๋ฐฉ์‹์˜ ํ•œ๊ณ„๋ฅผ ๋ณด์—ฌ์ค€๋‹ค. ์ธ๊ฐ„์€ ๋ฌด์—‡์ด๋“  ํ‘๊ณผ ๋ฐฑ, ๋‚จ์„ฑ๊ณผ ์—ฌ์„ฑ, ๋‚ฎ๊ณผ ๋ฐค ๋“ฑ, ๋‘ ๊ฐœ์˜ ๋ฐ˜๋Œ€๋˜๋Š” ๋ฒ”์ฃผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋ˆ„๋ ค๊ณ  ํ•œ๋‹ค. ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ์„œ ๋‚˜์˜ค๋Š” ํ‘๋ฐฑ๋…ผ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋ชจ๋“  ๊ฒƒ์„ ๋‚ด ํŽธ๊ณผ ๋„ค ํŽธ์œผ๋กœ ๋ถ„๋ฆฌํ•œ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์ธ๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ๋Š” ์• ์ดˆ์— ๋‚จ๊ณผ ์—ฌ๋ผ๋Š” ์„ ์ฒœ์ ์ธ ๋‘ ๊ฐœ์˜ ๋ฒ”์ฃผ๊ฐ€ ์กด์žฌํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š๊ณ  ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ์„œ ํŒŒ์ƒ๋œ ๋ฌธํ™”๋Š” ๊ทธ๋“ค์„ ์ด์›๋ก ์ ์ธ ์‚ฌ๊ณ ๋ฐฉ์‹์œผ๋กœ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ๋ฉ€๋ฆฌ ๋–ผ์–ด๋†“์•˜๋‹ค. ๋น™์› ์œ„์—์„œ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์€ ์•„์ด์—๊ฒŒ ๋งํ•œ๋‹ค. "์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐœ์ธ์ด ํ•œ ๊ตญ๊ฐ€๋ฅผ ๋ฏธ์›Œํ•˜๊ฑฐ๋‚˜ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๊ฒ ์Šต๋‹ˆ๊นŒ?...... ์ €๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์„ ์•Œ๊ณ , ๋„์‹œ, ๋†์žฅ, ์–ธ๋•, ๊ฐ•, ๋ฐ”์œ„๋“ค์„ ์•Œ๊ณ , ๊ฐ€์„์ด ๋˜๋ฉด ์–ธ๋• ์œ„์˜ ์–ด๋–ค ๊ฒฝ์ž‘์ง€ ์œ„๋กœ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ํ•ด๊ฐ€ ์ง€๋Š”๊ฐ€๋ฅผ ์••๋‹ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๊ฒƒ์— ๊ฒฝ๊ณ„๋ฅผ ๊ธ‹๊ณ  ์ด๋ฆ„์„ ๋ถ™์ธ ๋’ค ์ด๋ฆ„์ด ์ ์šฉ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์€ ๊ณณ์€ ๋”๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•ด์„  ์•ˆ ๋œ๋‹ค๋‹ˆ ๋ง์ด ๋ฉ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ?" ๊ฒŒ์„ผ์ธ์ธ ์—์ŠคํŠธ๋ผ๋ฒค์—๊ฒŒ๋Š” ๋‚˜์˜ ๊ตญ๊ฐ€์™€ ๋‚จ์˜ ๊ตญ๊ฐ€, ์ฆ‰ ๋•… ์œ„์— ์ธ๊ฐ„์ด ํญ๋ ฅ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋งŒ๋“ค์–ด ๋‚ธ ๊ฒฝ๊ณ„์„ ์—์„œ ์ด๋ฃจ์–ด์ง€๋Š” ์•„๊ตฐ๊ณผ ์ ์˜ ๊ตฌ๋ณ„์ด ์—†๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์ด๋‹ค. ํƒœ์–ด๋‚˜๋ฉด์„œ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ๋‚จ๊ณผ ์—ฌ, ๋‘˜ ์ค‘ ํ•˜๋‚˜์˜ ์„ฑ๋ณ„์„ย ๊ฐ€์ง€๊ณ  ํƒœ์–ด๋‚˜๋Š” ์ธ๊ฐ„์€ ํ‘๋ฐฑ๋…ผ๋ฆฌ๋กœ ์„ธ์ƒ์„ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์ด๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ๋Š” ๋‚ฎ๊ณผ ๋ฐค ์‚ฌ์ด ๋…ธ์„ ์ง€๋Š” ๋ถ‰๊ณ ๋„ ์–ด๋‘์šด ํ•˜๋Š˜์— ๋ถ™์ผ ์ด๋ฆ„์ด ์—†๊ณ , ํ‘๊ณผ ๋ฐฑ ์‚ฌ์ด์— ์กด์žฌํ•˜๋Š” ์ˆ˜๋งŽ์€ ์•„๋ฆ„๋‹ค์šด ์ƒ‰๋“ค์— ๋ถ™์ผ ์ด๋ฆ„์ด ์—†์œผ๋ฉฐ, ๋‚จ์„ฑ์ด๋ฉด์„œ ๋‚จ์„ฑ์„ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•˜๋Š” ์กด์žฌ๋‚˜ ์—ฌ์„ฑ์ด๋ฉด์„œ ์—ฌ์„ฑ์„ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•˜๋Š” ์กด์žฌ์—๊ฒŒ ๋ถ™์ผ ์ด๋ฆ„์ด ์—†๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์•ˆํƒ€๊นŒ์šด ์ผ์ธ๊ฐ€. ์ด ์„ธ์ƒ์— ์กด์žฌํ•˜๋Š” ์˜จ๊ฐ– ๊ฒƒ๋“ค์„ ํ‘๋ฐฑ๋…ผ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์œ„ํ•˜์—ฌ ์™ธ๋ฉดํ•ด์•ผ๋งŒ ํ•œ๋‹ค๋Š” ์‚ฌ์‹ค์ด. ์•„๊ตฐ๋„ ์ ๋„ ์•„๋‹Œ ์กด์žฌ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ์‚ฌ์‹ค. ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ํญ๋ ฅ์ ์ธ ์ด๋ถ„๋ฒ•์—์„œ ๋ฒ—์–ด๋‚˜ ๋‹ค์–‘ํ•จ์„ ์กฐ๊ธˆ ๋” ๋ฐ›์•„๋“ค์ผ ํ•„์š”๊ฐ€ ์žˆ๋‹ค. "๋น›์€ ์–ด๋‘ ์˜ ์™ผ์† ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์–ด๋‘ ์€ ๋น›์˜ ์˜ค๋ฅธ์†" ๋น›์€ ์–ด๋‘ ์˜ ์ ์ด ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ์–ด๋‘ ์˜ ์™ผ์†์ด๋‹ค. ์–ด๋‘ ์€ ๋น›์˜ ์ ์ด ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ๋น›์˜ ์˜ค๋ฅธ์†์ด๋‹ค. ์–ด๋‘ ๊ณผ ๋น›์€ ์„œ๋กœ ํ•œ ๋ชธ์ด๋ฉฐ ์„œ๋กœ๊ฐ€ ์—†์œผ๋ฉด ์กด์žฌํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋‹ค. ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ์„œ๋กœ ์ •๋ฐ˜๋Œ€๋กœ, ๋˜๋Š” ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋ณด์ด๋Š” ์–ด๋–ค ๊ฒƒ๋“ค์ด ์‹ค์€ ์„œ๋กœ ํ•˜๋‚˜์ด๋ฉฐ ์„œ๋กœ๊ฐ€ ์—†์œผ๋ฉด ์กด์žฌํ•˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ•  ์ˆ˜๋„ ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ์‚ฌ์‹ค์„ ๊นจ๋‹ฌ์•„์•ผ ํ•œ๋‹ค. ์†Œ์„ค ์† ํ•œ ๋ฌธ์žฅ "์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐœ์ธ์ด ํ•œ ๊ตญ๊ฐ€๋ฅผ ๋ฏธ์›Œํ•˜๊ฑฐ๋‚˜ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๊ฒ ์Šต๋‹ˆ๊นŒ? ํ‹ฐ๋ฒ ๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๋ง์„ ํ•ฉ๋‹ˆ๋‹ค๋งŒ ์ €์—๊ฒŒ๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์žฌ์ฃผ๊ฐ€ ์—†์Šต๋‹ˆ๋‹ค. ์ €๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค์„ ์•Œ๊ณ , ๋„์‹œ, ๋†์žฅ, ์–ธ๋•, ๊ฐ•, ๋ฐ”์œ„๋“ค์„ ์•Œ๊ณ , ๊ฐ€์„์ด ๋˜๋ฉด ์–ธ๋• ์œ„์˜ ์–ด๋–ค ๊ฒฝ์ž‘์ง€ ์œ„๋กœ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ํ•ด๊ฐ€ ์ง€๋Š”๊ฐ€๋ฅผ ์••๋‹ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๊ฒƒ์— ๊ฒฝ๊ณ„๋ฅผ ๊ธ‹๊ณ  ์ด๋ฆ„์„ ๋ถ™์ธ ๋’ค ์ด๋ฆ„์ด ์ ์šฉ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์€ ๊ณณ์€ ๋”๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•ด์„  ์•ˆ ๋œ๋‹ค๋‹ˆ ๋ง์ด ๋ฉ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ?"
Jungkook No Longer Baby Boy (+19)
Que tal peeps! WE ARE STILL COUNTING DOWN TO JUNGKOOK'S BIRTHDAY IN THE AMS COMMUNITY. THIS IS A QUICK FANFICTION THAT CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT! Jungkook has always been like a little brother to you and you always looked after him, especially when the guys picked in him. You were planning a special birthday surprise for him with the guys. "He should be happy he gets a cake." Yoongi scuffed. "Well well now lets not be too mean Yoongi...he is the youngest." I said while writing down ideas. You and the guys came up with a plan. You and Jin would bake a cake and cook food. Hobi and Tae would clean up while Namjoon and Yoongi decorated. "Namjoon please don't break anything." Hobi laughed. Namjoon rolled his eyes and laughed. The next day it was super hot in the office and all you wanted to fo was take a shower. You rushed home and jumped into the shower. Jin would be shopping for food with Namjoon while the others bought decorations. Jungkook would be at the library volunteering so everything should be finished then. The water felt so good as you allowed it to hit your skin. You had your relaxing body wash. You inhaled the lavender scent and lathered up your body sponge. You began cleaning and singing when you seen a pair of eyes looking in the small crack of the door. You paused thinking you seen something else. You didn't know if your mind was playing tricks on you. Then you looked back and no one was there. You finisjef showering and walked down to your room. You noticed Jungkook's door was cracked. This was strange cuz he always locks his door. You pay no mind and get dressed. The crew arrived and you all get to preparing the surprise birthday for Jungkook. You were pleased how everything played out. Namjoon only broke 3 things which is good. You walked to your room to get an extra present you brought for Jungkook when you noticed your pantry drawer was opened. Your neatly arranged panties were all a mess. You picked up the present wrapped in shiny red wrapper and seen that Jungkook's door was cracked wider. You walked down the hall and heard odd noises. "Yass gosh noona..." You peeped your head in without makjng a sound and saw Jungkook with your panties in his hand. He was licking a pink pair with a red pair wrapped around his man hood. Jungkook was stroking himself. You found yourself shook for a moment. But then you began watching out of enjoyment. Your breathing goth heavier. Jungkook slowly his hand motion and grinned. "I know you are watching me noona." You covered ur mouth. But a gasp escaped ur wet lips. "Jungkook why do you have my panties? "Noona you know I want you. I made that clear last week when I spanked the hell out of you. Remember you made me promise not to tell." You walked into his room and closed the door. "Shh boy that was a mistake." "A mistake?" Jungkook said while raising his eyebrow. He smiled while looking at the gift I had. "Nice wrapping but do you know what I really want noona?" Jungkook smirked. Jungkook walked closer to be still hard as a brick and stood behind me allowing his hard on to rub between by cheeks. He let out a groan. "I know you been with all the guys nonna, they brag about it. I want you now." Jungkook said. "Jungkook...look those days are behind me. I'm no longer group banging trash." "Okay I will just spread the word at work." Jungkook laughed. "Fine Jungkook." I hissed. Jungkook pushed me on my stomach while sliding my shorts to the side. He was happy to see I had in no panties. He stuffed a pair or my panties he had in my mouth and plunged deep inside me without mercy. The pink wet panties muffled my scream of pleasure. Jungkook pounded me hard and fast. "Noona you were all wet from watching me?" Jungkook smacked my butt hard. "ANSWER me. You like watching me wack off?" I nodded as he pulled me hard into him. He switched so we were facing the mirror and began pounding me hard hitting all my spots. "Look at that little face. You love it noona. Yoongi said you like it rough." I surprised Jungkook and pusjed him back on his butt. I climbed on top of him. "You gotta do more to get me off little baby boy." I said while grinning. I began riding him hard and fast while pulling his hair. He began sucking my right breast as I rode him. "Yass that's a good baby boy." I moaned. I could see he was coming to the edge and so was I. The room echoed of slapping skin. "Noona yasss! Oh shit!" Jungkook moaned while exploded in me. The explosion made me go over the edge. My vision was so blurry. Suddenly the crew busted in "Happy Birthday Jungkook!" "Shit looks like we got to the party late." Yoongi blurted. 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