My Beautiful Wife – NTR

By the time I reached the school gate, Yumi had already brought a quiet Jihoon to the car.

Normally, whenever I picked her up, she sat in the passenger seat. She always said it was because she wanted to be closer to me.

Today was different.

After learning what happened to his parents, Jihoon had gone completely silent. The second he got in, he stared out the window with a blank, empty look, lost in his own world.

Yumi, who was both his teacher and soon his adoptive mother, sat in the back with him to comfort him, leaving the front seat empty.

His eyes stayed glued to the window the whole ride. Anyone watching would think this was his first time in the city and he was soaking up the view.

Yumi sat right beside him, her slender fingers wrapped around his slightly dark hand, quietly passing him warmth and comfort.

I made a note to ask her later for a full rundown on the kid.

As his teacher, she’d know plenty.

“Jihoon, how old are you this year?”

I’d seen his file at school, but I asked anyway to break the ice and get closer.

The boy seemed distracted and didn’t answer, still staring outside.

“Jihoon, your… dad is talking to you,” Yumi gently squeezed his hand and said in that soft, sweet voice of hers.

Her Mandarin was crisp and perfect, nothing like my thick northern accent.

She wasn’t sure what to call me in front of him… Dad? Uncle? So she left it out. She wasn’t even sure if the kid had accepted us yet.

“How old are you?” I repeated once he finally turned my way.

“Thirteen.” Two flat words, then his eyes went back to the window. He was still keeping his distance from me, his new stand-in dad. We’d just have to take our time and build something real.

When we got home, he stepped inside, gave the place a quick once-over, then sat on the sofa and stared at the floor, deep in thought.

Even though he’d already guessed the worst about his parents, it still needed time to settle.

I sat on the balcony chair smoking and watched him from the side, studying every detail.

Apart from his slightly dark skin, he looked completely Korean.

His hair was naturally curly, just like mine. My dad, uncles, and cousins all had the same curls; it ran in the family.

There was even something in his eyebrows that reminded me of myself.

If you didn’t know the truth, you could easily believe he was my own kid.

I finally had a son. Not blood-related, but the child of my first love.

Because my feelings for Naomi ran so deep, and he was her only flesh and blood, I planned to shift all that love onto him.

Since I was never going to have a child of my own in this life, he would be my only one.

Logically, between my old love for Naomi and my own emptiness, I should have been thrilled to meet him. But the truth was, no matter how hard I looked, I just couldn’t warm up to the boy.

I normally liked kids, but something deep down kept me from feeling any real affection. I couldn’t figure it out.

Back home, Yumi started fixing up the spare bedroom. It had been mostly empty since it was just the two of us before. She moved around quickly, and in no time the room was ready.

“Jihoon, you can sleep here tonight,” she said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand before tying on an apron to start dinner. “Tomorrow I’ll buy you new bedding, clothes, and everything else you need.”

“Okay,” Jihoon looked up and answered shortly.

The fridge was full of ingredients. Yumi whipped up a couple of simple home-cooked dishes, and dinner was on the table fast.

Jihoon ate mechanically, clearly distracted. Yumi watched him with soft, motherly eyes.

He was already her student, soon her adopted son, and his recent tragedy made her heart ache for him. She kept putting food on his plate while he just ate in silence.

I sat there eating alone, glancing between Yumi and Jihoon.

Before, meals were just us two, she’d serve me, chat with me. Now her whole focus was on the kid.

She ignored me completely, no food for me, no conversation.

A sour, jealous feeling crept up. Who knew bringing home an adopted son would hit me with the seven-year itch so soon?

I knew she was doing the right thing. She had to use real motherly love to pull him out of his grief and give him the care he needed.

As a Korean teacher and part-time counselor, she knew exactly how. I understood it in my head, but it still stung.

Maybe after some time and getting used to it, the feeling would fade.

Our quiet little world of two had suddenly gained a third person.

That night, Jihoon went into his room and lay down. Yumi gently tucked him in, then left the door open so she could check on him.

I sat on the sofa watching TV and peeked through the crack every so often.

He was lying on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

A kid who used to be happy and healthy had just had his whole world flipped. I hoped his mind wouldn’t turn dark or twisted because of it.

“Jihoon, get some sleep early. You have school tomorrow,” Yumi called from the doorway after finishing in the kitchen.

He turned, looked at her, and nodded.

“Let’s go to bed too. It’s been a long day,” Yumi stretched, her body curving in that sexy way she didn’t even mean to show.

I turned off the TV and living-room lights, then followed her into our bedroom.

I had a lot I wanted to talk about… mostly the kid’s personality and what his future would look like.

Once we were in bed, Yumi changed into a seductive nightgown.

It was a short slip dress with a low neckline. Her full breasts pushed against the fabric, showing a deep, soft cleavage even when she stood straight.

The hem stopped just above her knees, letting her long, straight legs shine through.

The material was slightly see-through. It wasn’t full-on lingerie, but on Yumi’s incredible body it looked incredibly hot.

Before, with just the two of us and almost never any guests staying over, her nightgowns were always this revealing.

She said they felt comfortable. Now we suddenly had a boy in the house… one who was about to hit puberty.

Should I remind her? I shook my head. She was a counselor; she’d know what to do. No need for me to overthink it.

“Honey, how well do you actually know this kid? What’s his personality like?”

I gently took the phone from her hand. She always scrolled before bed… checking Moments or news, never chatting.

“Hmm… I don’t know him that well. His personality is all over the place. Sometimes he’s super quiet, but when he’s with classmates he can be pretty naughty. His grades swing up and down. Overall he’s special, so he’s one of the students I pay extra attention to. I’ve talked with him before and asked about his family, but he always dodged the subject. I didn’t think much of it until you came back and I learned how complicated his situation really is.”

Yumi tapped her chin while she remembered.

“So even you don’t fully understand him?”

That surprised me. Yumi was trained to read people, and he was only thirteen.

“Yeah, not completely. He doesn’t talk much, and he can be shy and reserved. Even though he’s a kid, I sometimes feel like he has this maturity that doesn’t belong to his age. It’s probably because of his family and how he grew up. But it’s fine now. From today on we’ll be living together every day. We’ll know him inside and out soon enough.”

“Mmm. I’m away a lot, and you’re his homeroom teacher. You’ll be with him at home and at school. So the kid stuff is all on you. Won’t that wear you out, dear?”

I held her hand gently. I’d always felt guilty toward Yumi.

My body couldn’t give her the pleasure a woman needed, and I couldn’t give her a child.

She could have left me and no one would have blamed her if they knew the truth. But she never once looked down on me. If anything, she loved me even more than before.

“How could it be tiring? I’ve always wanted a child. You just made that dream come true. I should be thanking you, hubby. From now on we’ll treat him like our own son. It gives us something to look forward to, and I finally get to do all the mom things I’ve wanted. I’ll support whatever you decide. Plus, I really like Jihoon. Even if this adoptive mom is only fifteen years older than him, hehe…”

She was right… Jihoon was thirteen and she was twenty-eight.

The age gap was unusual for a mother and son.

At the end she covered her mouth and giggled.

The heavy mood melted away. Her laugh was always beautiful, and her full, soft breasts rose and fell with it.

My body, which had felt dead for so long, suddenly heated up.

My cock twitched and started to harden.

I felt a rush of excitement. It had been ages since I felt anything like this.

I wasn’t letting the moment slip.

“Honey, it’s been so long since we’ve been intimate. I’m actually feeling it tonight. Want to try?”

My hand slid up to her full, soft breasts and started kneading them.

Yumi looked surprised for a second, then reached down and wrapped her fingers around my cock.

When she felt it half-hard, joy flashed across her face and she got turned on too.

Her hand trembled a little… she’d clearly been holding back for a long time. But then, as if something crossed her mind, disappointment showed on her face and she shook her head.

“Better not, hubby. There’s suddenly another person in the house and it feels weird. Plus his door is still open. If we do it, he might hear us. Having sex with someone right next door just feels off right now. Let’s wait until we get used to it, okay?”

She stroked my face, clearly disappointed herself.

I could tell she wanted it bad. But she had left Jihoon’s door open on purpose tonight, and it really did feel strange.

Such a perfect chance, and it slipped away.

Since I wanted to keep an eye on the kid, I couldn’t close his door either. Damn it.

The seven-year itch had already arrived. Was adopting this boy the right choice or the wrong one? I fell into a confused daze…

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