Isn't It Too Amateurish?
As the students packed their bags and trickled out one by one, Jinhee was tidying up the handouts spread across the teacher's desk. Her hand moved slowly as she flipped through them. It was obvious she wasn't reading a thing.
Woochan had his bag slung over his shoulder but couldn't bring himself to stand. His eyes darted back and forth between me and Jinhee.
"Go on ahead."
"……Yeah."
His face screamed that he had something to say, but my tone shut him down. He got up without another word, paused at the desk to bow politely to Jinhee, and got only a slight nod in return.
The classroom door clicked shut, plunging the room into silence. Jinhee stood frozen in front of the desk, still fiddling with the handouts. One sheet at a time. Straightening papers that were already sorted. She was hyper-aware of me but refused to speak first.
I had no reason to rush. I leaned back in my chair and stretched out my legs. From across the desk, I could see the curve of her waist peeking above her blouse. Her stocking-clad calves tapered elegantly below the hem of her skirt suit. Even without trying, this woman had clean, sharp lines. They matched her fierce impression perfectly—a slim, taut waist flaring into generous hips without an ounce of excess.
After standing like that for a long while, Jinhee finally set the handouts down and walked around the desk toward me. Her heels clicked twice against the classroom floor. She stopped in front of my desk.
"Is it true?"
Her voice was ice-cold, low and steady but with the faintest tremor at the end. Her narrowed eyes glared down at me, demanding to know if I was just screwing with her. But beneath that, there was a shadow. She looked like she hadn't slept. Smart as she was, she knew it was real—but she didn't want to believe it.
"Don't believe it if you don't want to."
I answered without moving from my slouch.
Jinhee's eyebrow twitched. Silence stretched. Her expression hardened, then softened.
"Sujin wouldn't do that."
"Who knows."
"She's not the type…"
I just curled my lip in response to her weak mutter. Families always think they know each other inside out. Parents about their kids, kids about their parents. Jinhee and Sujin must've been the same. Without parents, their bond would've been even tighter. Sisters with no one else. That's why she wants to believe it so badly.
But people change as they grow. No matter how strong the connection, blind spots form. Especially for the things they want to hide.
Jinhee's denial was crumbling. She'd already accepted that Sujin had used drugs—and long before the school violence incident. That's why she'd tossed and turned all night.
"Besides the school violence record, do you have hospital records too?"
I didn't answer. Swallowing her anger, she asked again.
"Just do it one more time, that's all."
"Don't you know about depreciation?"
Her face twisted.
"You call that talk?"
"You can't pay the same price for something you've already experienced."
"What the hell do you think people are?"
"Hey, who cares what I think. I'm just the one setting the price."
"You fucking trash."
The insult bounced off me. It wouldn't change anything. What she needed was in my hands, and she knew what I wanted.
Her breathing quickened, then steadied. I could see her forcing down her emotions, plain as day.
"Fine. So what do you want? Twice?"
"Used goods aren't worth shit."
Silence crashed down. She glared daggers at me. She wanted to curse me out, slap me—but she knew that would cost her what she wanted.
"What do you want."
It wasn't a question anymore, just resignation.
"Ever fucked in a classroom?"
Her face went rigid.
"You psycho."
Her disgusted glare stabbed down at me. Looking up into those eyes, I nearly burst out laughing. That haughty, self-assured look—like she knew she was above this. Mixed with the awareness of her own predicament. The combo made her grit her teeth and endure. The moment a face like that crumbles? Chef's kiss.
I leaned forward.
"You were so bad at it… sucking wasn't my thing."
Her expression turned venomous at my jab.
"And yet you came like that?"
"That was just a reflex."
Her lips quivered faintly. A low "fuck" slipped out.
"Is that what gets you off? Blackmailing and humiliating people?"
"I've never blackmailed anyone."
I leaned back, chuckling.
"When did I ever force you? I just have the goods, and if you want them, you pay up."
"Don't you have any human feelings?"
"What's this? Appealing to my emotions now? Where's that logical teacher act?"
"Haa…"
Her sigh dragged on. Her shoulders slumped, then squared again. This woman wouldn't let herself break, not completely.
I stood up.
"Anyway, if you're not doing the deal, I'm out."
I grabbed my bag and turned. She said nothing. I reached for the door and pushed it open. Right before it swung shut—
"I'll do it! Just do it, okay?!"
I gripped the door without turning.
"Too late."
"What?"
I shut the door. The hallway was dead quiet, everyone gone. Three steps in, frantic heels echoed behind me. A hand yanked my arm, stopping me cold.
"How is that fair? I said I'd do it."
She spat the words in a rush, panting. Her chest heaved under the blouse, a sheen of sweat on her forehead.
"Deal's closed."
"Then…"
"Price goes up, obviously."
"That's…"
"Take it or leave it."
I stared down at the hand clutching my arm. It trembled faintly. As I turned to go, she grabbed again—this time with both hands.
"Fine. Tell me the terms now. I'll do whatever."
Her voice cracked like it was tearing apart.
"Let's set a deadline."
"Deadline?"
"Yeah. Fuck me for a week."
Her hands dropped from my arm. She stepped back, staring up at me.
"No way in hell."
"Then don't."
"……Aaargh!"
Her scream echoed down the hall. Her fist slammed into empty air. Her knuckles went white.
"You fucking bastard! Piece of shit!"
Before the curses even finished, her eyes welled up. I could feel her frustration boiling over—she wanted to deck me but couldn't afford to.
"Just do it."
She ground out the words through clenched teeth, nothing like her icy classroom tone.
"Deal."
We headed back to the classroom. Jinhee stood by the desk, arms crossed, fingers drumming her own forearm. She'd agreed, but her face said she had no clue how to start.
I went to my seat and sat, crossing my legs and leaning back.
"What're you doing?"
She looked up at my question. Her lips were dry and cracked.
"I'll do it… I said I'd do it…"
Her words rang hollow—her fingers wouldn't budge.
Her gaze bounced between me and the floor, back leaning against the desk.
"If you're not gonna, I'm leaving."
I made to stand, and she rushed forward.
"No! I will…"
Standing over me, she looked down, bit her lip, then—
"What're you gonna do?"
I grinned up at her.
"You're doing it. If I do, it's work."
"You crazy fuck!"
She stood there forever, then her knees buckled, and she sank in front of me. She leaned in, fingers fumbling at my belt buckle. Zipper down, she gripped me over my underwear. Her fingers tensed and relaxed a couple times. Finally, she yanked it out.
It hung soft. Her eyes locked on it—same mix of shock and revulsion as the first time, but now her movements were practiced. She gripped the shaft, leaned down, and extended her tongue.
Slurp.
Short and tentative. Her tongue grazed once. Warm, wet sliding over lukewarm skin. A short breath hissed from her nostrils.
It started stiffening in her hand. Each lap widened it; her fingers spread to match. Fully hard, she looked up. Tension filled her eyes.
"Got a condom?"
"Nope."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Then what the hell?"
"You should've brought one."
"What kind of bullshit is that?"
She started to snap back, but a sigh came first.
"Tell me if you're gonna cum. Got it?"
"Sure."
My half-assed reply earned a glare. No backing out now.
She stood, hiked her skirt up from both sides to her waist. Panties showed through the stockings. She rolled the stockings down her thighs and slipped off her panties. Her hands shook. Folding them meticulously and setting them on the desk—that was so her, fussing over details even here.
"Won't that hurt?"
She turned at my question.
"I know, okay?"
Snapping back, she perched on the desk beside me. Skirt bunched at her waist, bare thighs gleamed white without the stockings. Her hand drifted slowly to her crotch. Fingers probed uncertainly inside.
She wasn't sure where to touch. Hesitate, glance at me, move again. Forever like that. Her cheeks flushed, but her fingers just skimmed the surface. She clearly hadn't masturbated much.
"So, when're you gonna do it?"
"……"
Her lips parted, closed. No answer. Fingers frozen on her thigh. Face beet-red to her ears, hand doing nothing.
I sighed, stood, and stepped between her legs. Grabbed her knees and spread them.
"Wh-what're you…"
Her legs tried to clamp shut reflexively. I pressed harder.
"Special service."
I knelt, pressed my lips to her inner thigh. Smooth skin warmed; her leg twitched. Tongue trailed slowly inward.
"Hnnngh…"
Her hands gripped the desk edge. Goosebumps prickled her bare skin. Each lick made her breath hitch. When my tongue tip hit the spot, her body shuddered violently. Her back arched, ass nearly sliding off the desk.
"Isn't it too amateurish?"
I looked up. Ears crimson, she averted her eyes and yelled.
"I-I was just surprised!"
