“I want us to make the reeds tremble tonight,” Jun whispered into her husband’s ear, employing the euphemism her grandmother’s generation had used before the revolution. Knowing that sleep would assuredly not come that fateful night, Kim Sun Park agreed. Jun helped her husband out of his drab blue party uniform and then she undressed herself. She watched Kim rub his cock, working up his erection and slipped her own fingers between her legs to prepare herself. The sight of her husband shaking his swelling penis, preparing it to penetrate her, put an idea in Jun’s head that she would never have dared to articulate on any but this, the most important night of her life. Reaching over to take Kim’s dick in her hand, Jun said, “No, let me.”

And then, for the first time in the three years since the Dear Leader had so generously, wisely and benevolently given his blessing to their marriage, Jun, hesitantly at first, put his penis into her mouth.

“Wow!” she heard him gasp in wonder and surprise. As she sucked gently on his cock, Jun rubbed his flesh with her hands. She felt the warmth of his skin on her palm and the gentle, almost imperceptible throbbing of his heartbeat. He was rubbing his heels together absentmindedly and had closed his eyes to enjoy the ‘blowjob’. 

Yes, ‘blowjob’. That was what it was called, she’d heard. It was forbidden, of course. Sex was, by party diktat, permitted purely to create the next generation of North Koreans and such a frivolous use of semen would never be allowed. It was bourgeois, American and capitalist to enjoy such petty pleasures. She wondered if it was true that, as rumoured, ‘no oral sex’ was the most broken law in Pyongyang.  

“We’re going to make it,” she murmured before plunging back down onto his penis. When she rose again for breath, she said, “We’re going to be free. I can feel it.”

Lost in ecstasy, her husband did not reply. She felt that his penis was unmistakably harder in her mouth now. The taste was a little different from when she kissed his mouth, but it was not unpleasant. Kim’s penis tickled the back of her throat, and she almost gagged, but the sensation passed and she ran her tongue over his glans, which was now trembling. Jun used her lips to suck powerfully on his cock and he moaned in delight. With her index finger, Jun tickled his peritoneum then she gave his balls a squeeze. 

Her husband shifted from side to side on his bottom as she sucked his dick which, she realized, had never looked larger or, indeed, more handsome as it did then, proud, erect and shining with her saliva. 

“Oh, comrade, wonderful, wonderful,” Kim whispered to her as she returned his penis to her mouth, applying forceful suction and allowing it ever deeper into her throat. A moment later, he grabbed the base of his penis and shook it hard. Jun smiled at him as he neared his climax, although his eyes were closed, and she gave him one last suck before his jizz burst out into her mouth. Jun swallowed the semen and enjoyed the sensation of warm liquid running down her throat. 

She lay beside her husband, feeling emboldened. That had been a small act of rebellion itself, even if the Party would never know. Kim lay in silence for at least five minutes, just staring at the ceiling. At length, not looking at his wife, he asked, “What can I do for you?”

Jun was nonplussed by the question at first. He’d never asked that before. Kim had not gone out of his way to deny her pleasure, for sure, and she had experienced occasional orgasms. But he’d never enquired what might best satisfy her. Eventually, she stammered out, “Well, I’ve always enjoyed being on top of you!” and then she blushed deeply. 

“Then we’ll do that,” he said kindly.

And so it was that Jun rode her husband’s dick, and she pressed her bony chest to his and willed him not to orgasm.

“Please,” she whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek, “Please stay inside me. I want to feel you inside me tonight.” 

She knew how unlikely it was that they would survive the journey they were committed to attempting in the coming days. 

By uniting her flesh with her husband’s on their last night in Pyongyang, Jun was saying goodbye to her homeland, to her culture and, most probably, to life itself.

*

In the end, crossing the border wasn’t the worst of it. The brokers who had arranged it all, paid in US dollars by her brother (who was an escapee himself) and his wife from America, had bribed the border guards and after a nighttime hike of about three hours, they made it into China. The journey south, from Tsingtao all the way to Yunnan province, was when they really suffered. They had to sit inside a lorry in a tiny enclave behind a pile of crates. 

It was sweltering hot in that cabin and the air was suffocating and they had no space to lie or get up. The truck rolled on through the day and night and when the driver stopped for the bathroom or for food there was no question of letting them out. Jun and Kim took turns to stretch their legs out - there was only space for one of them to do it at a time - and every time the truck stopped they were afraid that the vehicle would be searched.

When the truck was stationary, Jun rocked on her bottom and wept with fear at the slamming of doors and the male voices speaking Mandarin, a language she understood but little. Her husband, who was just as afraid as she was, reached over and put his hand on her shoulder and motioned her to be silent and Jun was able to stifle her sobs. 

She had no idea of the hour but it was dark for the second time when the driver let them out.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Vietnam,” he said with a smile. 

“Really?”

“Yep!”

Kim and Jun smiled at each other, despite their hunger and aching limbs. They had passed safely through China, and most people who didn’t get caught in the People's Republic made it onwards. The driver gave them pot noodles and water, which they devoured, and then he arranged a satellite call to her brother.

“Vietnam? Congratulations!”

“Thank you!”

“The false passports will be waiting for you at the safehouse in Hanoi. Don’t dawdle. You want to be in Thailand within forty-eight hours. You still mean to go on to Europe?”
“Yes.”

“Good. The man who supplied the passports is reliable, he got us through the border in Washington, and I hear Europe is far more lax. Learn some Thai and whatever language you need for when you arrive in Europe. Don’t stick out. Don’t draw attention to yourselves, whatever you do. Just memorise what you need to get you through the airport initially. God willing, you’ll speak to us next from Paris!” 

There was another three hours in the truck and then they were at the safehouse. Both too exhausted to think of anything else, they crashed onto the bed and were asleep within moments. 

But when Jun awoke, she looked around at the room. There was what looked like a shiny blackboard fixed to the wall. She pressed a button and leapt back when it came to life. It was a huge television! The only ones she had ever seen were grey boxes, made in the sixties and about a third of the size of this sleek, space-age gadget. There was a football game on. Barcelona and…G-e-t-a-fe. Never heard of it. Her husband woke up.

“We really are here. I was afraid it was a dream!” he murmured.

“Yes. Look at this amazing television!”

He did look, and shook his head in wonder at the thing. Jun watched the little men chasing the ball around. The name Barcelona was rolling around in her mind. She’d heard of it, of course, largely through football. But, no, she had another memory. It had been at school. A teacher had told her that, in Spain, there had been a civil war and the Fascists had crushed the workers and enslaved the people into the capitalist system…It was still used as a warning from history not to raise voices against the Party. 

They watched the game in silence and then the players broke up for halftime. During the interval, there was a commercial break. Jun and Kim watched, only half comprehending what they were seeing, for in their native land there were no advertisements, just endless propaganda. They muttered things like, “Coca Cola must be the state-sponsored product of Vietnam!” and “I suppose the president’s family must be called Samsung,” until an advert from the Spanish Tourist board came on. Long white beaches shone in the hot sun. They saw real old stone castles, buildings that might have been conjured up by the imagination of some great writer but which could not possibly exist on the same planet as Pyongyang. They saw people dressed up with tall, pointy hats and masks…to Jun’s eyes, it was like a medieval fairy tale.

“Let’s go to Spain!” she said suddenly, “I want to go to Spain. To live.”

There was a long silence. Kim seemed bewildered, as if he hadn’t thought of a life beyond this point, as though the world outside of Pyongyang was one giant place he had thought of as ‘Not here’ and he was considering their future for the first time.

“Ok,” he said at length.

An hour later, Kim went to the bathroom to wash. Jun heard him call her name.

“Jun! Jun! Come and try this! It’s amazing!”

She got up and went into the bathroom. Her husband was there, naked, in the shower. And water, steaming hot water was pouring down onto him as if it would never end. 

“How do they do this?” Kim cried, “It’s fantastic! Why doesn’t the water go cold? And it’s so powerful! Like a hot thunderstorm!”

Jun stripped off and joined her husband in the shower. Delighting in the feeling the scalding water produced, they both practically cavorted under the water. They held hands and laughed and kissed until Kim grew hard. Jun saw his erection and reached for it, gently stroking his cock. 

“Hold me,” she whispered to him. They embraced. She felt the side of his dick against his thigh, felt his arms around her shoulders. 

“Sex?” her husband whispered at length. She looked up from his shoulder and into his eyes. She smiled and nodded. 

Jun turned around and braced herself against the shower wall, presenting her vagina for penetration. Kim’s dick entered Jun from behind. She felt a frisson of pleasure even from the first moment, and it grew as he began to thrust inside her. Kim’s hands were gripping her buttocks and his dick was now reaching ever deeper. Jun loved the feeling of the hot water pouring over her as she had sex. It added a new dimension to the experience. Making love in bed was nice, on a good day. But feeling her body being warmed by the water as she was taken from behind felt fantastic. 

Jun had to adjust her palms on the tiles to steady herself as Kim drove his cock into her. Her knees began to tremble. Her breasts were tingling, aching to be touched, so she reached down and took Kim’s hand, which willingly surrendered its grip on her bottom, and drew it around her body. Her husband’s fingers stroked her breast and pinched her nipple, massaging her breasts. She was really aroused now. Her vaginal fluids mingled with the cascading water and the warmth of her husband’s hand on her breast, the caress of her bare bottom…

Jun came with a squeal and a gasp. She looked back and saw that Kim was smiling, happy that she had orgasmed. She smiled back and took his hand from her breast and clasped it tight. How lucky she had been, to be matched with Kim, she thought. So many arranged marriages were disasters. She turned back to face the wall as Kim’s dick thrust ever more firmly into her…

There was no Party apparatchik coming to the door. No neighbours were eavesdropping on what they said. It was just her and Kim behind a locked door, washing the grime of a lifetime of grinding poverty off of their bodies.

It was the first time in her life that Jun had ever felt completely safe. 

*

Two days later, Jun and Kim slipped across the border into Thailand and her brother wired them two one-way tickets to Barcelona.

It would tire the reader to relate all the details of the next few months for our heroes. There were seemingly endless visits to the ministry of immigration, the job center, the police, the bank, the tax authorities, the hospital, the City Hall. There was a mountain of papers to sign and scan and copy and send, and every time they thought they were close to permanent permission to remain there was another piece of paper they didn’t have, another stamp, another journey across town and another queue to wait in. Kim found some work labouring and Jun took a job as a barmaid at night. They came home every day exhausted, and barely spent an hour in each other’s company. 

One evening, at the end of another long day, Jun was sipping tea and reading her Spanish exercises on the couch. Kim came in and sat down next to her. He spoke,

“They asked me about home at work today. They don’t really hate him, you know, the Dear Leader. They laugh at him. He’s a joke here.”  

Kim shook his head as if unable to comprehend how anyone could think such things.

“Of course they hate him,” said Jun, “He’s an enemy of capitalism.”

Kim nodded, then said,

“I feel like I should hate him too. But…I can’t. The army, I will criticize. The party has bad elements inside it. But the Dear Leader, he works for us against them. Against the world who struggle to bring down the people of North Korea. If it weren’t for him, we’d be slaves. I believe it with all my heart.”

Jun said nothing to this. In her mind’s eye, she heard again the hymns she had sung to the president at school and she saw again her younger self rehearsing dances in his honour. She remembered poring over textbooks that had solemnly told her that everything they had, the food, the home, the family, the very sunshine itself was down to the Dear Leader.

She nodded silently. Then Kim said,

“Jun, we need to get a Spanish baby inside you.”

Her eyes widened. She set her book down, taken aback.

“I want you to get pregnant by a Spanish man. It’ll mean you can stay for life. It might mean I can. You’re young and attractive. Just meet a man you like who will treat you decently and bring him home. I’ll leave you to it.”

Jun was so surprised that she was lost for words. Kim was the only man she had slept with, and only his death would give her the right to be with another man. Now he was telling her to have an affair? To give her body up? To touch another man’s most intimate parts?

They talked about it deep into the night. Kim calmly, non-judgmentally explained why it was the best course of action, and Jun raised objection after objection, but she could not find a better plan to secure their residency in Europe. 

But even when they had agreed to try it, one obstacle remained. Kim and Jun’s marriage had been arranged. They had been introduced, found each other acceptable and married within three months. What did she know about seduction and attracting men?
*

She practiced flirting with the customers at the bar first. It was certainly good for her Spanish, working there, and she forced herself to engage with as many people as possible, especially men. She’d listen to what they talked about and then throw in a snippet of conversation when she had their attention. Sometimes her contribution landed, but there were some painfully awkward silences and disapproving looks from the boss as well. 

Jun began to observe how Spanish women dressed and walked and talked. She had arrived in the clothes she stood up in, and they had each raided charity shops to give themselves a wider wardrobe. But she saw now that she needed newer, fresher clothes. She particularly stood out at the beach, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt. 

But those bikinis! They were so revealing. She wasn’t sure she could bear to show that much flesh. It would have deeply shocked her parents if they ever knew that she dressed like that, she knew. Well, they weren’t here and desperate times called for desperate measures. Jun took her measurements, went to the department store, and returned with a two-piece swimsuit.

The effect was astonishing. No one had given her a second glance when she had sat sipping lemonade at the beach bar wearing a Mickey Mouse t-shirt. But as Jun sashayed down to the sea with her legs, belly and breasts on display, eyes turned from twenty meters away! Although she felt uncomfortable being so exposed and being watched like that, somewhere, deep down, there was unmistakably an allure to feeling men’s eyes on her body. Being desired as a sexual being was a feeling she had never experienced in North Korea. 

Whenever she had a day off, Jun went to the beach in her bikini and it was not long before she started to attract male attention. Men would come over and start talking to her, and they looked great in their beach shorts. But she didn’t find that unscripted conversations came naturally to her away from the bar. A lot of the time, the men who were chatting her up made references to a dozen or more things that she lacked the cultural knowledge to comprehend. They talked about songs she had never heard, films and series that she had never seen, clubs she had never been to and jobs she never knew existed. As she had nothing to say to them, they soon got bored and left her alone. 

In the end, it was the cafe where she finally landed a lover. Dani was about thirty and mostly showed up alone. He came with a book, ordered coffee and sat and read in the sun. He was quiet, serious and popular with the management for his impeccable politeness. 

Dani clearly liked Jun and always made a point of asking after her health, and he was very interested to learn about her homeland. Jun, flattered, asked polite questions in return. She learned he was a musician and artist who lived alone. Dani occasionally slipped her tips and, one day, his number was written on a napkin wrapped with a five euro note.

“Send whatsapp and I’ll call back :)” was on the note.

She showed the note to Kim, who was delighted. 

“Well done! Write back and ask him for dinner at once!”

Jun did write back, and arranged a date for the next evening she was off work. The night before the date, her husband sat her down to coach her.

“Try to bring him home tonight, but don’t push him if he doesn’t want to. It’s better that you keep him close and try again another night than scare him off. They say that men in Europe want a woman with the sexual abilities of a slut but the morals of their grandmother. So tell him you’ve had one or two boyfriends, but not many. Don’t mention contraception. If he wants to use it, tell him you’re taking the contraceptive pill and it’s completely the wrong time in the menstrual cycle and he doesn’t need to worry…”

*

The date was a resounding success and, that night, her heart thumping in her chest, Jun led Dani into the bedroom. As she closed the door, Dani gave her a big smile, then he pulled his t-shirt off. Wow, he’s confident, she thought to herself, looking over his muscular chest and firm tummy. Dani looked good shirtless, she had to admit. She found her eyes drawn to his nipples, which were pert and erect. And there was something about his chest…

With a jolt, she realized what it was. His ribs weren’t showing. Dani was so well-fed that you couldn’t see a trace of his ribcage, just a mass of muscle that merged seamlessly into his belly. 

And then Jun realized at last how poor her country and her people were. She’d often been hungry as a child, but she’d assumed that was just a part of life and, however hungry she was in Pyongyang, at least she wasn’t starving in one of those stupid capitalist countries. 

But seeing Dani shirtless, the truth dawned on her that her childhood had been impoverished and that it wasn’t like that in most countries, that she had been lied to by the party and the army, who had themselves probably been eating well all along.   

Feeling her reality dissolve around her, Jun pulled off her blouse and dropped her jeans, then sat up on the bed… 

Dani fell on her body. On a later date, she’d learn that the way he kissed her skin, sucked on her nipples and reached inside her with his fingers was called ‘foreplay’, but that night it was a concept quite alien to Jun, for whom sex had always been a practical and dutiful affair. 

When Dani gently pulled her legs apart and crawled between them, she was not even sure what he was doing until she felt the lap of his tongue on her clitoris, felt it drag downwards, and she knew she should object but she had to keep up the pretense that she was single and, besides, it felt so, so good. Her pussy had never felt like this before. With Kim, she had progressed almost robotically from undressing to penetration. It was only if she was lucky that her body was in the mood and lubricated for pleasure.

Whilst penetrative sex with Kim was often like the jolt of a rude awakening, oral sex from Dani was like the blissful  first stirrings of consciousness from a lovely dream on a summer’s morning. Gradually, in her own time, she awoke between her legs until she could feel the most blissful sensation down there she had ever felt. Jun could not help but squirm on her buttocks, and she noticed then how soft the mattress was beneath her naked body, and how unlike the rough woolen blankets she slept on at home. Everything was so much softer and gentler here, even down to sexual intercourse.

Dani continued to eat her pussy, now tickling her with his tongue, now pressing his lips to her flesh, now gently sucking on her, which felt amazing. Jun closed her eyes and surrendered to ecstasy. The hardships and traumas of her early life had taken their toll, but that moment, receiving slow, expert and loving oral sex, Jun was, at last, as a twenty-year-old woman should be; naked, desired and receptive to the greatest pleasures of life.

 At length, having orgasmed twice, she pushed him away. Dani grinned and went to the bathroom. Jun lay on her back, hardly able to believe what had just happened to her.

When Dani’s face was clean, and Jun had relieved herself, they reunited in the bedroom. Dani pulled his pants and underwear off. Jun could not help a sharp intake of breath at the size of his manhood. It looked vast compared to her husband’s. Not for the first time that night, she inwardly sighed at the realization that inadequate nutrition had worked insiduously against her and Kim all their lives.

Dani smiled down at her as he positioned himself over her.

“Ready?” he asked softly. She nodded. She felt his manhood rub against her still-swollen clitoris, then he eased it up to her lips and her vagina, still nicely lubricated, welcomed it like an old friend. 

“It’s big!” she whispered, adjusting to the feel of his penis stretching her vagina as it had never yet been stretched. 

“Not too big, I hope?” he asked teasingly.

She shook her head, spread her legs a little wider, and let Dani kiss her lips as he began to thrust his hips slowly, gently against her body…

*

Kim had heard his wife come in and, to his delight, she was not alone. He quietly slipped into the spare room. This was their big chance, their one-way ticket out.  

He hoped his wife would be dutiful, that she would do her best to please the man, whoever he was. Kim picked up the newspaper and began to read about football. It was how he enjoyed learning Spanish, and he found it much more accessible and useful than doing exercises in a book. With an effort, he blotted out the voices from next door.

But twenty minutes later, there was a squeak through the wall that could only have come from Jun. Momentarily thrown, he forced himself to focus on the paper. Let’s see, Messi was negotiating with an American team and…

“Oh!” 

That was his wife again. She was being touched. Kim’s dick hardened at the thought, yet he also felt a sense of irritation that her vow had been broken, that she was not his for a while. There was some creaking of the bed, and each bounce of the springs signified that the man’s cock was driving ever deeper into his wife’s pussy…

Stop it, Kim, he thought to himself. Go out or put some music on. No, he couldn’t do that. They’d hear and know he was listening. 

Almost despite himself, he took a glass and held it to the wall. Then he pressed his ear up against it to listen to what was going on next door. 

They were moving, that was for sure. Squeak - squeak - squeak went the bed springs. Kim pictured Jun on her back, her breasts bouncing up and down as she took his cock…

But now, there was another one inside her. He was no longer the only one. The thought simultaneously angered, encouraged (for he was desperate to stay, at any price) and aroused Kim. He wished he could know if he was at least in his wife’s thoughts. Kim held the glass close to the wall, wishing he could see as well as hear. 

“Oh! Oh!” Jun cried out again.

Kim’s cock was now fully erect and he began to stroke it. The effect dimmed slightly when the next room fell silent. But after a moment, he heard Jun exclaim, “Oh!”, and then she squealed again then again, then again until the air was full of her shrill cries of ecstasy.

Jun had lost control of her tongue, Kim realized, and he could not suppress the thought that she was behaving in an undignified way, a way unbecoming to the demure and reserved standards expected of a wife at home. 

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” he heard his wife cry as she orgasmed and Kim jerked his cock as hard as he could to the rhythm of the sound. Kim was trying to pretend it was him producing that effect on her body, but he knew he never had, and likely never would. She had orgasmed with him, but never anything like as spectacularly as she was in the next room with the Spanish guy. Kim had never made her lose control. 

It didn’t take long for the thought of his wife being fucked and the sexy sounds through the wall to bring Kim to orgasm. He gasped. His dick felt deliciously warm as cum shot out of his dick and onto the wall. Afraid it would stain, he hurried to grab some tissue. 

When he had come, his wife and the guy were still fucking next door, and Jun was still voicing her pleasure. A new sensation now invaded Kim’s mind. He suddenly felt lonely and ashamed at his own inadequacy in the bedroom. He knew he could never provide sexual satisfaction like the alpha male who was fucking his wife. What kind of a specimen was he, compared to the butch Spaniard next door? Hopelessly small and weedy. What a pathetic man. Kim hung his head in shame.

He did not know enough about his wife’s body, he realized with a jolt. He couldn’t make her orgasm because he didn’t really know what areas to stimulate and was clueless about how various strokes of his penis might affect her differently.  It was not his fault that he had not been educated. It was all down to corrupt elements in the party, he decided. They had denied him the necessary education in how to please his wife. Evidently, the Spanish man next door was well versed in the textbooks, for he could hear Jun moaning and squealing still.   

Alone in the shadows of the darkened living room, Kim vowed that, one day, once in his life, he would make his wife orgasm as forcefully as she was now. 

But that could wait. He heard the Spaniard raise his voice briefly, heard the speed of the creaking of the bed springs increase, heard a final, simultaneous yell from both man and woman. It was over. He could only pray that the man’s seed would unite with his wife’s egg. Their very lives could depend on it. 

*

In the next part, we’ll find out if Kim and Jun’s plan to remain in Europe has succeeded! Thank you for reading my stories!