Just the Tip?
I watched Ayoung’s body as the violent spasms gradually subsided.
Her thighs still trembled faintly in the afterglow of climax, her pale skin flushed a deep, pleasure-stained red. That pussy of hers, which had clenched so tightly a moment ago, was finally loosening, relaxing into soft, open yielding.
It wasn’t only her body. Psychologically, too, I could feel the firmly shut door cracking open—just a little.
Every instinct screamed to bury my cock inside her right then and there.
But I held back. The perfect moment hadn’t arrived yet.
A rash insertion could slam that door shut again.
I would wait longer. Tease her more. Until she would be happy to take me.
I lifted my hand and held my fingers—soaked in her juices—right in front of her face.
Clear, slick fluid ran down them in thin strands.
“You’re this wet already?”
Ayoung flushed with embarrassment, turned her head away, and gave my hand a half-hearted shove.
Even that defensive little gesture was so cute I couldn’t help laughing.
I brought the rejected hand back to her lips and asked,
“Want a taste?”
“Get that away from me…”
Unfortunately, Ayoung still wasn’t ready to sample her own slick.
“Should I keep fingering you, or would you rather I use my mouth?”
“Mouth? What would you even do with your mouth?”
She asked the question with pure innocence.
This version of Ayoung, who had never properly met me before, knew nothing about cunnilingus—about getting her pussy eaten.
In her common sense, a man putting his mouth on a woman’s pussy was something she had never even imagined.
Not just Ayoung. Most women in this world thought the same way.
A man sucking on a pussy? Why would he ever do that?
Instead of explaining with words, I decided to show her.
I lowered my face and brought my lips to her still-twitching pussy.
—Tok
“Hyaat?!”
Before the startled Ayoung could protest, I moved.
I gently parted her soft folds with my tongue and kissed the very center of her.
Her entire body shuddered at the wet, scorching sensation—something she had never felt once in her life.
“W-wait, Sihyuk! Th-that’s…!”
I buried my face between her legs for a moment, then lifted my head to look up at her.
She had told me to stop, so I stopped—for now.
Her wet eyes swam with panic and confusion.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that I dislike it, it’s just…”
She mumbled, avoiding my gaze. When I stuck my tongue out again, ready to lick her, she spoke in a voice thick with shame.
“That’s… where I pee from… It’s dirty.”
Ah. So that was it.
In her mind, fingers or a cock thrusting into a pussy were acceptable—those fell under the category of sex.
But a mouth was for eating. Licking a pussy simply didn’t fit that neat little worldview. An innocent, almost adorable piece of common sense unique to this world.
And yet she sucked my cock like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
In the end she was still a woman of this strange world. Women sucking cock was taken for granted, but a man going down on a woman triggered an unconscious sense of burden.
She was even feeling discomfort at the idea of a man licking a pussy like hers.
I gave a soft snort of laughter, met her eyes again, and answered with complete seriousness.
“Ayoung. There isn’t a single dirty place on your body.”
A small white lie. Of course some parts would be less than pristine. Who was perfectly clean?
But her pussy carried no odor at all.
Instead, the sweet floral scent of the body wash she used drifted up from the insides of her thighs, and it was actually pleasant.
If anything weird had been coming off her, I would have abandoned the idea of eating her out on the spot.
At my words, Ayoung could no longer refuse.
I extended my tongue again and began licking her clit.
This time I kept my eyes locked on hers the entire time I ate her.
Ayoung stared down at the face buried between her most precious place and started panting.
Meanwhile I worked her clit with practiced skill. The earlier teasing had already peeled back the hood a little; the little bead stood out red and ripe like a perfectly ready fruit.
I flicked the tip of my tongue lightly against that tiny nub.
“Haaah… Ah, ahng…! This feels… weird…! Hhn…”
I circled her clit clockwise, swept the broad flat of my tongue up over it, pressed down firmly—playing with her the way someone might savor an ice cream cone.
Even this haphazard attention was more than enough for a sensitive woman. She felt every stroke.
Ayoung couldn’t even track how my tongue was moving; she simply drowned in the waves of orgasm crashing over her.
Even though she had just climaxed, her body answered this new kind of pleasure almost immediately.
Sticky juices kept pouring from her pussy without pause.
I kept working her clit, then trapped the little pearl between my lips and rubbed it gently.
It was a different kind of soft, electric stimulation from pure licking.
Subin especially loved this particular move.
“Hwaaaaang…!”
Ayoung, experiencing cunnilingus for the first time, couldn’t hold out. She came hard, letting out an obscene moan as her body jolted.
The backs of her hands, fisted in the bedsheets, quivered violently.
—Psssshht!
Hot slick sprayed across my chin, throat, and chest.
Ayoung, a little drained of strength, covered her eyes with both hands and collapsed flat onto the bed.
Her neck was flushed scarlet all the way down; it told me exactly how embarrassed—and how good—she felt.
While her legs were still spread, I laid my fully hard cock right on top of her pussy with a soft thud.
“Hiek!”
Ayoung yanked her hands away and stared up at me in shock.
“N-no insertion…! Sex with a man is still…!”
“Relax. I’m not putting it in.”
I soothed her quickly and started talking.
“You were the only one who didn’t get to do anything during sex-practice class today, so I’ll give you a rough idea. No actual penetration—just rubbing on top like this. That way you’ll at least have something to write on the theory exam.”
Our academy held exams. Theory and practical both, and those scores supposedly mattered a lot.
As a man I didn’t care much, but for Ayoung they would be important.
“…Okay. Just… don’t actually put it in.”
If I had suggested this from the start she would have refused outright.
But after several rounds of fingering and oral, she had grown a little used to a man’s hands and tongue. She hesitated, then finally agreed.
With her consent secured, I pressed my cock against her pussy the same way we had practiced in class and began rolling my hips.
—Slap, slap, slap.
Ayoung’s pussy and the soft flesh of her ass were so thoroughly soaked that every time skin met skin it stuck and peeled with a lewd, sticky sound.
The filthy noise of flesh against wet flesh echoed louder than usual through the Sex Treatment Room.
Because the stimulation to her pussy and other erogenous zones wasn’t intense, the pleasure she felt stayed mild—but it was more than enough.
Just the fact that a man was straddling her was enough to excite her; her breathing grew rough.
While I kept rocking my hips I calmly explained, one step at a time, what a woman was supposed to do in the missionary position.
“Feel that? When a man’s thrusting from on top, you lift your hips a little so he can fuck you more easily. And like this—wrap your arms around my neck…”
I kept threatening that it might show up on the theory test, forcing her to focus on every word.
Then, completely naturally, I pretended to make a “mistake” and pulled my hips back farther, letting the head of my cock graze the entrance of her pussy.
—Squish!
“Haaah…!”
Even that tiny contact made Ayoung cry out and throw her head back.
“You okay? My bad. It didn’t go in, so don’t worry.”
“I-I’m fine. Hoo… hoo♡”
Ayoung followed my instructions, locking her arms around my neck, spreading her legs wider, twitching her hips.
Bit by bit her reason was crumbling under the weight of lust.
No matter how hard she tried to reject men, the female instinct that craved cock could not be denied.
I leaned close to her ear and whispered,
“Should I… just slip the head in a little?”
As I “accidentally” dragged my shaft across her clit again, I continued,
“I won’t put the whole thing in—just the tip. I promise it’ll feel good. Completely different from fingers or this fake fucking.”
She was so worked up I was sure she couldn’t refuse.
But contrary to my expectation, Ayoung wrestled with herself for a long time, then shook her head.
In a weak voice she said she still couldn’t do actual sex yet.
I didn’t push any harder.
It simply wasn’t the right timing. I kept rolling my hips.
Earlier she had been dead-set against sex; now she was only saying “not yet.” That change mattered.
In this kind of relationship, when a woman takes one step back it means you can take two steps forward.
Because inside her heart she has already decided she is willing to give ten steps or more.
So I kept repeating those little “accidents,” letting the head kiss her entrance again and again, winding the atmosphere tighter.
Just by pretending to fuck her for so long, Ayoung eventually came once more—softly.
It was the combined work of repeated near-misses and the thick, erotic air between us.
“We’ve practiced missionary enough. Want to try doggy-style next?”
“Doggy-style?”
In a world where a man doing the thrusting was already strange, rear-entry was something she barely knew.
“Just move the way I tell you to.”
Already flushed and too tired to resist, Ayoung quietly agreed.
More than that, a faint glimmer of anticipation now shone in her eyes.
She no longer saw me as something unpleasant; she was starting to look forward to me as a source of pleasure.
I flipped her over, made her present her ass, and arranged her into doggy-style.
This time, for even stronger stimulation, I nestled my cock deep between her outer lips.
Ayoung startled again, thinking I had gone inside—but her resistance was noticeably weaker than before.
“You’re not going to put it in… right?”
“Yeah. Still just rubbing. I promise.”
I lied without a care, then started rocking my hips with my shaft trapped snugly between her plump pussy lips.