My Girlfriend Is a Fan of Me

Thanks to the well-planned schedule, the three days from Friday to Sunday were surprisingly relaxing.

So as Saturday approached, my wife and I decided to make time for our first visit to the tennis court. The rackets that had arrived home were catching my eye like precious treasures.

Fortunately, our parents agreed to take care of Joo-ha. It’s only natural they would want us to enjoy some couple time. I’m really grateful for that.

“It’s been a while since we went on a date just the two of us without Joo-ha.”

“Right? The only times we’ve had were when I briefly left during lectures.”

As we arrived at the tennis court and stepped out of the car, we chatted while soaking up the warm sunshine.

Of course, walking around as a family of three with our adorable daughter is nice, but I do feel like we need couple time every now and then.

Wait, if we talk about couple time, haven’t we been enjoying that every night recently? With me passing out every day, I’d almost completely forgotten!

While pulling out the necessary gear from the trunk, I shifted my gaze to the cheerful sounds ringing out at the tennis court.

There are more people here than I expected. I thought the facilities were nice, but this must be a well-known tennis court considering my wife and brother-in-law use it a lot.

“Looks like a lot of people are coming.”

“Yeah, this is the biggest tennis court in the area. Especially on weekends, couples are bound to be here.”

As I thought, “Are we included in that category?” my wife, who had been sticking close to me, seemed particularly lively today as she subtly took the bag I was holding in my left hand.

Now that I think about it, today is our first time enjoying an outdoor hobby together. Maybe that’s why she’s so excited.

If I had known she’d enjoy it this much, I would have learned to play sooner. We should come here more often whenever we have time.

“By the way, honey, how do you like my outfit? Is it pretty?”

After finding a suitable spot and putting down our stuff on the bench, my wife twirled around to proudly show off her outfit that she wore from home.

The pleated white skirt, commonly known as a tennis skirt, was adorned with black diamond patterns, and the top was a beige, slightly collared sweatshirt.

Instead of the usual neat attire, this more fresh and sporty look struck me as completely adorable.

“You look so beautiful! You usually wear more subdued outfits, so this energetic look is fantastic. The colors are refreshing too.”

“Eek! My husband gives too many compliments! No wonder my mom is always envious.”

“Your mother?”

I tilted my head in confusion, wondering why she’d be envious of my complimenting skills.

“Yeah, my dad is rather stoic, so he rarely gives compliments. Even when he does, it’s pretty dry. Mom has always said she wishes for a son-in-law like you.”

“Haha…”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I recalled her mentioning something similar before.

My father-in-law isn’t a bad guy nor does he have a cold personality, but he definitely seems a bit clumsy with expressing his feelings.

He usually gives me a lot of praise and advice, but apparently, he doesn’t do so in front of family. Maybe my mother-in-law voices those remarks out of a bit of frustration?

“Maybe it just seems that way since I talk a lot. Your father is quite serious.”

“Eh, not at all. When you hear compliments from someone, it feels nice to think, ‘Ah, they’re really paying attention to me!’”

“R-really?”

Although I tried to defend my father-in-law, my wife’s firm response quickly silenced me, forcing me to concede.

It seems that in every family, moms and daughters team up to squeeze out the dads. My own mom and sister do the same.

Wait! Does this mean someday my wife and Joo-ha might team up against me? Now that’s a bit scary.

“Director! It’s been a while!”

“Huh? Oh, Assistant Park! It’s been a while.”

As silly thoughts crossed my mind while unpacking, a man in his early forties from an adjacent court came over to greet my wife politely.

He must be someone from the company, judging by his title.

“Yeah, I should have come to greet you separately… I’m sorry.”

“No problem! You must be busy too, so there’s no need for that. I hardly ever go to the office myself.”

“If you could contact me before you head out next time, I’d come to say hello. By the way, is this person with you…?”

After a few exchanges of greetings, Assistant Park glanced cautiously at me and asked in a gentle tone, indicating he probably hadn’t attended our wedding.

“Yes, this is my husband. Please greet him.”

“Ah, I see! Nice to meet you. I’m Park Kyung-seok, the Director at Changseong Corporation.”

“Nice to meet you as well. I’m Kang Woo-joo, Seo-ha’s husband.”

It felt strange being in a position where a corporate executive was bowing to me, but I responded with a polite greeting and a smile.

He really has a pleasant demeanor, much like Mr. Park Gun-ho.

“Are you also here with your wife, Director?”

“Yes, I am. I wanted to relax this weekend, but the more I lay down, the more my belly grew, so I got dragged here.”

“I see. And your wife…?”

“She said she’d go get something to drink first. I wanted to introduce her to you, but it seems she’s running late. Sorry about that.”

My wife waved her hand as if to say it was no trouble and smiled.

Besides, it’s not like he uses his position to force people to greet him, so I suppose it’s a good thing.

“It’s fine! By the way, if my husband can play later, how about we have a doubles match? With a coffee wager or something.”

“Sounds good to me! My wife really loves a wager.”

“Glad to hear it.”

After making a friendly betting arrangement, when the Director returned to his spot, I cautiously looked down at my wife and spoke.

“He seems like a really nice guy.”

“Yeah, he’s unique; he has no interest in office politics. He helped me a lot when I joined the company.”

“I see.”

I noticed how softer his attitude was than usual. I never expected my wife to make such a suggestion so readily.

“Well then, shall we get started? Honey.”

“Sure!”

After a light stretch, we each grabbed our rackets and stood on the court.

“Let’s see what you can do, Teacher.”

“Sure! I’ll teach you with care!”

As I playfully bowed my head in a formal manner to my wife, who had become the instructor, she responded with a nod, looking pleased.

I just hope my wife doesn’t throw a fit if I can’t learn quickly.

*

Playing tennis turned out to be much harder than I had imagined.

Initially thinking it was just about hitting the ball with a racket, I found I needed to adjust my expectations after my wife’s one-on-one coaching session.

“This is how you do it. Stand with your legs slightly apart and put some strength in your waist. If not, your posture will collapse easily.”

“Got it. This is surprisingly difficult.”

Following her instructions, I spread my legs shoulder-width apart and tried hitting the ball she tossed at me, but sending the ball where I intended was considerably challenging.

More than anything, adding power was hard—each ball felt like it was traveling at a sluggish pace.

I wanted to learn quickly so I could surprise my wife with my skills, but it seemed that would take some time.

“You’ll go through this initially. I got scolded a lot when I learned from my brother.”

“Your brother was tough on you?”

“Yep. He looks kind and gentle in front of others, but he’s just a wild brother in front of me. He scolded me saying I couldn’t even do this.”

Her pouting expression was so rare that it made me chuckle at the thought of a big brother being that way.

Honestly, I treat my wife and my sister completely differently too. It’s not that I’m being fake with my wife; there’s just an inherent difference in how we interact with family versus partners.

“And if you grip it like this, it’s called the backhand stroke. It’s easier to do it with both hands rather than one.”

“Can you do it with one hand?”

“I find it hard too, but I can manage weak balls.”

Whoa, suddenly my wife looks impressive. Given her character, if she’s saying that, it likely means she can play quite well.

“When you swing, think of doing each motion quickly and in order. Step forward with your left foot, swing when the ball comes… like this with your arm.”

“Oh, so it’s like pushing to send it far.”

“Exactly. See, my husband learns quickly!”

Come on now, even a grade schooler would grasp that concept!

Her enthusiastic praise made it hard not to grin at the scene before me as my wife bounced about joyfully.

“Now let me show you as I guide you. Bring your hands down like this…”

“Uhm, um…?”

Ignoring my inner dialogue, my wife energetically approached, firmly grasping my arm, yet a little too close for comfort.

Uh, excuse me, teacher? Wouldn’t you say this is bordering along the lines of too intimate?

“Why are you acting weird, honey?”

“Ah, nothing…”

“Hmm, is that so? Then let’s raise our hands like this…”

Unable to voice my concerns, I mindlessly followed my wife’s lead as she maintained her mischievous gaze while continuing her instructions.

Swiftly.

“Yep, good job! Imagine pushing it up to send it far.”

“Right, right.”

But as we progressed, her touches became more daring, making it tough to keep my composure.

I could tolerate the closeness when we were just standing, but now she was lightly caressing my forearms or maneuvering down to my hips and even further up my thighs under the guise of teaching.

Is it really necessary for this level of detail for standing still? Teacher?

“Sweetheart, why are you sweating so much? Are you feeling hot?”

“Uh, no, I’m not hot or anything…”

“Hold on, let me wipe that off.”

Despite me saying I was fine, my wife went over to the bench, rummaged through her bag, and approached me with a towel.

“Wow, look, you’re sweating a lot. And it’s so cool outside.”

“I just… naturally sweat a lot.”

“Still…”

With a worried tone, she began to wipe the sweat beading on my forehead, but the position was rather suggestive.

Just wiping sweat shouldn’t need this level of proximity. Our breaths were almost mingling at this point.

Every time she shifted, I felt a soft thrill that increasingly tested my patience as a man.

At that moment…

“…Honey.”

“Aw, yes?”

With a sweet, sultry voice, she called me, glancing down slightly and flashing a wanton smile.

Following her gaze, I unmistakably found evidence of my dwindling patience.

Her body inching closer while shamelessly highlighting the fact, she blocked our surroundings with her body, teasingly brushing against my thigh while saying,

“…Shall we take a break?”

…I guess it’s not about exercise anymore, is it?

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