The Dean's Summons
Germania (8) Anyway, so we started digging for information on the rune stone. But have you ever tried hunting down books or papers in a library? Relying on nothing but the catalog in a place this massive is a special kind of hell that only people who’ve actually done it understand. Ask ten otherworld scholars what the most soul-crushing task is and eight of them will say “indexing.” Even when you finally track down a thesis, there’s no Ctrl+F in this world. If a paper is titled “Rock Research in Germania,” you have to read the whole damn thing just to see if it mentions rune stones. Surrounded by the smell of paper and ink, my grad-school PTSD came rushing back. Ugh, fuck. That Kyobo Bookstore stench.
“Damn it. I knew we should’ve just fooled around for three hours and come back later.”
“What the hell, you bastard husband. Get out of my head.”
“Did I force my way in? You’re the one who said you liked it and pulled me inside.”
“Bullshit. Who chased after the person trying to leave and shoved it in?”
“Heh~ Mommy of my kid~”
“You absolute shit-for-brains.”
Even while we bickered like that, both of us realized how brutally hard the work ahead was going to be, and our faces turned grim. There’s a reason professors dump source-hunting on their grad students. Even if we focus, I’m not sure we’ll finish today. I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought it. For about twenty minutes, anyway.
Whoever said dating tanks your grades was right. It’s an ironclad law of the universe. Even a legendary scholar couple like us couldn’t resist the pink haze of our first month of married life. My brain, which had already written the equation “research << flirting,” wasted all its CPU on messing around with Dana. While flipping through papers, I spotted a tiny name—“Dana Berbeia”—and my eyes lit up.
“Oh, look at this. Your paper’s here too, noona.”
“What? Why the hell is that here? Give it. I’m burning it.”
Dana’s face went stiff, like someone who’d just found an old embarrassing post on a community board. I ignored her and opened the thesis.
“Let’s see… ‘I would like to express my sincere gratitude to so-and-so who helped greatly with this paper, and to my capable assistant, Nord, as well’?”
—Twitch. Dana shut her mouth. I cackled.
“Ah, I remember this. Back then I thought it was just lip service, but our noona was already planning to carry my kid while I was still her translation slave. She’s been head over heels for me since way back. Impressive.”
“Pregnant, my ass… Says the guy who keeps stuffing my womb to bursting with cum every single day. My eggs drowned in your semen and died, you bastard.”
Eggs drowning in semen? That’s like a fish complaining it died in the ocean.
“I told you not to gulp it down every time. My juice isn’t juice, you know. It hurts my heart too when that slim belly of yours swells up with protein. You get me?”
I lifted Dana’s sweater. Her I-shaped abs and tiny belly button were suddenly on full display. She yelped and yanked the sweater back down.
“Hey, hey…! Are you crazy?! This is someone else’s university library!”
“I’ll just touch. Heh. Our noona’s belly button is cute too.”
“S-stop talking nonsense, you idiot…!”
Dana shouted in a tiny voice and wrapped my head up in her sweater. What, she wanted me to do the same thing we did on our first night? —Lick, lick, slurp, slurp.
“Hiiik?!”
—Thwack! I licked her stomach, got smacked on the head, and popped back out of the sweater. My ears were ringing.
“Why’d you hit me, noona? That hurt.”
“You deserved it, you bastard!”
“Waaah.”
“……Let me see. Does it hurt a lot?”
When I acted sulky while she rubbed my crown, it worked like a charm. Dana looked ready to explode with frustration, then finally gave in and waved me over with a guilty expression.
“Kekeke. It doesn’t actually hurt. I was joking.”
“……You absolute bastard. You’ve gotten way too good at teasing people.”
“Teasing? This is all affection. Don’t like it?”
I asked while hugging her waist. —Tremble. Dana’s eyes twitched with humiliation as she muttered resentfully.
“……Put your lips on me, you bastard. Let me kiss you.”
I was a good husband who obeyed his wife. We kissed while holding our breath so no one would hear. It was lucky that it was a weekday morning and the library wasn’t crowded.
…Smooch. When Dana moved her tongue, the wet sound of saliva mixing echoed softly. Her body trembled as she caressed my jawline. Our lips stayed glued together like they’d been welded. The sound of tongues tangling faded.
…Sluuuurp. I pulled away. As much as I wanted to keep going, we couldn’t risk getting caught. Dana had already revealed her identity, after all.
Ah, fuck, this is hot. That had been the plan, but Dana’s expression was far too seductive. With her coat sliding off the shoulder of her turtleneck, she looked at me with hazy, lust-filled eyes like we were on a gravure photoshoot set. Maybe the university library gave scholar Dana some kind of home-field buff? My breathing grew rougher. How the hell did she still look so slender even in a thick wool turtleneck? I couldn’t hold back anymore and pulled down the collar of her turtleneck, pressing kisses to the warm, fragrant skin of her neck hidden beneath it.
Sniff— Haa…… The smell of books mixed with Dana’s scent reminded me of our days as lab slaves. The way she used to nod off beside me while pulling all-nighters…… that womanly smell. Even though she was a woman and would eventually go bathe when the scent got too strong, that was exactly why it stuck with me. A natural fragrance that was strong enough to notice but never crossed into stench. Maybe it was because we could bathe with water magic even while traveling over the sea. The scent wasn’t as concentrated as I would’ve liked. My nose pressed against her nape like a dog hunting for old snacks, huffing her scent. Dana held her breath as the hot air slipped under her clothes.
“……H-how far are we going…?”
“Just a little. Let’s do a bit more and stop.”
“……Okay.”
Dana turned her head away from where I had buried my face. I breathed in her scent to my heart’s content. They say high-school uniforms turn Korean guys on because of shared nostalgia. If that’s true, then my nostalgia must be the smell of Dana’s skin mixed with the scent of dried ink. Good thing we had separate rooms at home. Franc’s and Dana’s personal spaces would each carry their own unique atmosphere. I’d definitely have to visit each of my wives’ rooms later and have sex with them there.
—Creak. —Twitch! At the sound of approaching footsteps, Dana and I quickly separated. She shrugged her coat back onto her shoulders. The female undergrad who had made the noise glanced at us as she passed. Dana touched her neck, worried about kiss marks. I took a deep breath through my mana-enhanced nose, savoring the lingering scent of her on my skin.
“Phew, thanks to my wife my motivation is through the roof. Let’s get to work.”
“……Right.”
Since only I was satisfied, Dana pouted. But what could we do? This was a public library. Still— I had underestimated Dana’s courage. Or rather, her lust.
—Tap, tap. We had found the rune-stone papers and were sitting at a secluded table in the library. While I was reading, I felt Dana’s socked foot brush against my leg and looked up. She was flipping pages with a perfectly innocent expression, chin resting on her hand like she was bored. From the upper body alone, no one would ever guess she was up to anything. But from across the table, I could clearly feel her big toe stroking the inside of my thigh. —Slide. The tables at Rodbrick University or whatever it was called were a bit small, which let Dana keep her upper body still while her foot reached all the way to my inner thigh. Or maybe it was just her long legs matching her tall frame. Either way, one thing was certain: Dana was the same type as me—incapable of focusing on work when her lover was right in front of her. Even while maintaining a cool poker face, she was sneakily teasing her husband where no one could see.
Dana’s foot didn’t stop moving. The toe that had been stroking my calf slid up my thigh and straight toward my crotch. It tapped both sides of my legs once each, like a veteran bomb-disposal expert. —Press. Once she confirmed my cock was on the left side, her toe firmly pressed down on my husband’s dick, still wrapped in my thigh and pants, as if mocking it. Swish— swish—. They say a swan gliding elegantly across a lake is paddling desperately underwater. That was exactly what our wife was doing right now.
“Whoa……” Passing nerds kept glancing at Dana, captivated by her beauty and intelligent gaze. It made sense— a stunning woman with messy hair reading papers in a library that reeked of paper was a rare sight. A naturally pretty nerd girl who didn’t care about makeup, and a handsome nerd guy— that was a sexual fantasy that transcended time and world. Of course, I drove them off with silent murderous intent. The undergrads and grad students scattered like ants from a flooded anthill. No guy with enough guts to talk to a beauty who already had a man beside her would be at the library on a weekday morning anyway. Thank god the table had a solid front. Because we’d chosen a secluded spot, passersby probably couldn’t tell what Dana was actually doing.
—Tap. Even though she was pressing on my cock like that, I didn’t feel any urge to come from her footjob. Of course not. No matter how virile I was, there just wasn’t enough stimulation through socks and thick monster-leather pants. But if this kept up, Dana was going to spend the whole day just pressing on my dick until it was time to go home. No choice, then. Yeah, no choice. Not because I refused to be the only one getting teased, but because I had a perfectly reasonable excuse—one Dana would’ve called bullshit if she heard it. I slid my own foot between her legs. —Flinch. Dana’s body trembled ever so slightly, but her expression stayed the same. She must have expected me to retaliate. Of course she had. She was our wife, after all. But expecting it and being able to endure it are two different things.
—Slide, slide. Dana and I possessed the bodies of sumo wrestlers and competed in technique, stimulating each other’s most sensitive spots. If anyone had crawled under the table to watch, it would’ve looked ridiculous, but after about five minutes that worry disappeared.
“Hnn……” Because Dana had pulled her foot back to endure her own pleasure. Offense is the best defense. By giving up the attack, it meant she no longer had the leeway to go on the offensive! Even while biting her lip and pretending to be calm, I had no reason to stop. She was the one who had thrown the first punch without warning. I mercilessly wiggled my toes. Past her jeans and panties, I stepped on her pussy. I twisted my big toe left and right, grinding slowly. Dana’s fingers, which had been turning pages, stopped. —Tap tap tap tap tap tap. I quietly knocked on her pussy. Like a maid thrilled by her master’s visit, heat and moisture began to seep through Dana’s jeans. Of course, even while tormenting my wife’s pussy like that, my upper body maintained the perfect posture of a calm scholar reading a paper.
“……Hic, khh.” —Press, press. The quiet torment continued. I took out my pocket watch and held it out to Dana on the table. Only ten minutes had passed. Did my foot cramp? I was superhuman. This level of movement was nothing. “……Gulp……” Dana swallowed, her throat bobbing. She couldn’t even focus on the paper anymore. With both elbows pressed to her body and lips bitten, her face was hidden behind her bangs. The occasional tremors running through her body were the backlash of pleasure she couldn’t suppress. —Twitch, twitch. Dana gritted her teeth and tried to pull her hips back. Still, she didn’t try to escape by pushing her chair away. As expected of a scholar with barbarian blood. Her pride, built from both birth and effort, wouldn’t allow retreat. But the world wasn’t so kind that you could overcome everything with pride alone. Retreat was also a valid strategy. Since she couldn’t accept that, Dana had no choice but to admit defeat—her pussy losing to a single toe. My mana-enhanced senses told me the moisture gathering at her crotch was right on the verge of climax. I set my pen down. Then I pressed down on her pussy like I was massaging it. Dana couldn’t hold back and came.
“……Ah, hnn…!” Dana bent forward at an eighty-degree angle over the table. —Tremble, tremble. She didn’t even have the composure to hide the shaking of her body; even her elegant upper body was quivering. The castle walls had been doomed to fall from the start. When I pressed harder with the foot on her pussy, Dana slammed her forehead against the table like she was bowing to me. She seemed too far gone to even worry about getting caught, so I kept watch for her instead. I had plenty of leeway for that. Fuuuush…. At that moment, I felt something faintly touch the sole of my foot. It was like a very weak stream hitting me through thick socks. Even though I was the one who thought of the comparison, it was pretty accurate.
“Huu, huu…… huu……” Dana’s breathing grew quietly faster. I was dying to see what kind of face she was making, but I wasn’t cruel enough to demand she show it to me right now. I retrieved my pocket watch and checked the time.
“Sixteen minutes. You lasted pretty long. Satisfied?”
Dana couldn’t even lift her head. They say women don’t get post-nut clarity, but the Dana I knew was the type to regret things after the fact. In other words, she experienced a mental version of it. How many times had she stubbornly argued or made excuses that didn’t even convince herself, only to want to die afterward? She’d done it plenty in Sargadis too. So whether she got reverse-swept or somehow won, she’d usually spend one or two days kicking her blanket in embarrassment. The fact that she still hadn’t fixed it meant this was just her nature. But heaven was merciless today—Dana didn’t even get the chance for post-nut clarity.
“Dr. Dana Berbeia?”
A woman spoke to us. In Britannian. I’d assumed she was just another patron passing by, so I was a little surprised—though not nearly as surprised as Dana, who had just been called by name while her underwear was soaked with her own fluids. Dana lifted her head blankly, her face pale. But the woman standing behind her didn’t notice and continued.
“Dean Hartriel is asking for you. Could you come with me?”
“N-now…… right now?”
Dana answered with every ounce of composure she could muster. Her face looked like a half-finished Barbie doll, so the woman speaking to her seemed slightly taken aback as well.
“If you’re not feeling well, I can give you some time, but I was only told to bring Dr. Berbeia, so I can’t adjust the schedule myself.”
“……Th-then, at least ten minutes……”
While speaking with a frozen face, Dana glanced at me—specifically at the coat draped over her shoulder. I had quietly stood up and moved beside my wife.
“Dana. It’s not a professor, it’s the dean. We can’t keep her waiting.”
I spoke kindly as I helped her into the coat she’d taken off and buttoned it all the way up. There. Now no one would see the soaked lower half of our wife, still glistening from the gradient. From what I’d glimpsed earlier, even though she’d come pretty hard, it was only a little damp around the crotch.
“Ah, a……”
Dana looked like she hadn’t expected me to react this way; she forgot her words and despaired. But of course I had no intention of showing the dean—whose face I didn’t even know—my wife’s disgraceful state. I smiled gracefully and apologized to the woman who had come on the dean’s errand.
“I’m sorry, but my wife came here to do research despite her seasickness and seems to have worn herself out. Would it be all right if we rested in the lounge for about ten minutes before coming?”
“Ten minutes should be fine. I’ll wait in front of the lounge.”
The woman seemed determined not to let us slip away, so she even offered to guide us. I helped Dana to her feet, my arm around her trembling shoulders. I whispered softly into her ear.
“Looks like we have no choice now. I’ll dry you off in the lounge.”
…………Nod. Our wife’s mind was no longer intact after experiencing the reality of outdoor play (despair edition). After suffering the ultimate humiliation of having her crotch ironed with my Burning Hand inside the lounge stall, Dana regained a bit of her senses and said with tears in her eyes,
“Fuck…… Even if it kills me, I’m never doing this crazy shit outside the house again.”
“Really? You seemed to like it.”
The tension and sense of immorality from possibly getting caught directly amplified sexual pleasure—before any discussion of preferences. Just like how a guy might come the moment he puts it in during his first time because of nerves. When I said that, Dana looked at me like a succubus that had been slapped across the face with a cross.
“If you ever try this shit with Franc too, you’re dead to me.”
“This is something Franc taught me, though.”
Dana hiccupped like a sheep that had seen its own future in the slaughterhouse.
***
Once we’d dried Dana’s clothes and were confident our lewd, public-morality-violating pseudo-sexual act wouldn’t be discovered, the two of us headed to the dean’s office.
“Thank you for coming, Dr. Berbeia. There’s something I absolutely must ask you, so I called after hearing the news.”
Skipping the small talk and getting straight to the point, the dean—an old woman named Hartriel—said this to us:
“You were Professor Yerna Gracy’s student, weren’t you? Is that correct?”