[Side Story] Lee Jiyoung (2)
Ji-sung laid me down on the bed and climbed on top of me, kissing my neck and ears while kneading my breasts.
"No... we shouldn't... Ji-sung..."
I tried to stop his hands from touching my chest, tried to push him away, but his firm body didn't budge an inch. His leg slipped between mine, his manly thigh pressing against my groin. I could feel him fully hard against one of my thighs, his shape unmistakable even through his pants. The hand kneading my breasts slid downward, stroked my inner thigh, and finally seized my crotch firmly over my pants.
"Ahh—"
That single touch sent me teetering toward the edge. An electric current spread from my sex through my whole body.
"Haah... haah... Ji-sung... please, stop..."
The boy paid my words no mind at all. He sat me up and began unbuttoning my blouse between kisses. It felt like only yesterday he'd been wearing a school uniform as class president of my homeroom—where on earth had he practiced kissing to get this good? In the end, Ji-sung stripped off my blouse and bra both, and gazed down at my bare upper body with an excited look. I tried to cover my chest out of shame, but Ji-sung caught my hands and said,
"You're so beautiful, Teacher,"
before pressing his lips to my breasts.
"Haah..."
Every time his mouth touched a new spot on my chest, electricity coursed through me. When he took my nipple into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue, it felt so good I couldn't think straight. Ji-sung pulled away and took off his shirt, revealing a bronze, sweat-dampened torso. The scent of a young man rushed into my nose. He stripped off his pants and underwear in one go and stood naked before me, his manhood standing tall and swaying between his legs. It was full of a power and vitality I could never feel from my husband's limp thing. Looking at my student's naked body right in front of me, my face burned with embarrassment—and yet somehow I couldn't tear my eyes away.
Ji-sung removed my pants and panties as well, laid me back down, and climbed over me again. I looked into his eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and spread my legs to let him in. I only hoped this lovely boy would find satisfaction in my body. Ji-sung gripped himself with one hand and rubbed against my entrance a few times. My vagina, and the tip of him, were both soaked. Then, smooth and natural as sliding into water, his cock pushed into me.
"Haah... nngh..."
The moment he entered me, another orgasm washed over me. His hard, hot cock reached all the way to the end of my channel, and I felt a fullness so intense I thought I'd burst. He was thick and long. He hooked my legs over his shoulders, looked down at me, and began to move his hips. Each time that hard thing drove in and out, pleasure rippled through my entire body. Ji-sung's handsome face looking down at me was filled with a conqueror's delight—the proud face of a man entering a woman's body for the very first time. Moans kept spilling from my mouth as I gazed up at him, and I had no choice but to clamp my hand over it. Panting rough breaths through orgasm after orgasm rising from below, I knew that from now on I wouldn't be able to live without this boy. No man had ever given me satisfaction like this.
After that, Ji-sung changed positions again and again, savoring my body. He paced himself, but his stamina was staggering. He was completely different from my husband, who used to satisfy his own greed and climb off before I could even get near climax. I came over and over, and the fluids flowing from between my legs stained my student's bed. I wanted to scream out freely so he could enjoy himself even more, but with his parents just outside the door, I couldn't—and I regretted it.
"Teacher, can I finish inside you?"
Ji-sung asked as we returned to the missionary position.
"No. Finish outside."
His hot face burrowed into the nape of my neck. His hands gripped my hips, and his thrusts quickened. Another climax arrived. Each time his lower body slammed into mine like it would break me, electric jolts kept coiling through my whole body from my crushed clitoris. Just when I felt my brain might melt and my mind might come apart, his cock inside me began to grow hotter and swell. Ji-sung pulled out of me, gripped himself with one hand, climbed up over my chest, and lifted my head with his other hand. His wet glans was right before my eyes, the musky smell stinging my nose. When I opened my mouth, he pushed that dirtied cock inside as if he'd been waiting. His hot length throbbed in my mouth. Ji-sung held my head with both hands and rocked his hips back and forth. I looked up at his face—those handsome features contorted with the extreme pleasure of a man about to come. Wanting him to feel even a little more, I rubbed my tongue over the cock moving inside my mouth.
At last, Ji-sung's cock exploded in my mouth. An enormous amount of hot semen poured in, again and again. It was more than I could hold, so in the end I simply swallowed it. When I sucked my husband off out of obligation, it had always disgusted me—but swallowing while watching his face lost in climax felt not the least bit repulsive; it was almost enjoyable. I wanted Ji-sung to feel more pleasure, for longer.
We lay side by side on the bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. No words were needed. I pressed my chest against Ji-sung's side and entwined my legs around his body. He turned toward me, held me tight, kissed my face, and said,
"I love you, Teacher."
I just gave a little smile, didn't answer, and buried my face in his chest—but I was so happy I wished this moment could last forever.
I came home exhausted but satisfied. My husband and son were nowhere to be seen—apparently in their rooms—and only my middle-school daughter was in the living room watching TV. She took after me, pretty in both face and figure, her breasts and hips swelling out so that she had become a full woman now. Honestly, by age, the one who suited Ji-sung wasn't me—it was her. I figured that by the time she turned twenty, men like Ji-sung would be lining up for her, and I felt an odd flicker of jealousy toward my own daughter. Yoon-seok was studying in his room. Seemingly unaware that I'd come in, he sat at his desk working, then stood to greet me—so endearing that I stroked his hair and hugged him. His frail little body, smaller even than his middle-school sister's, fit neatly into my arms. It was hard to believe he was only one year younger than Ji-sung. I held him like that for a long while, feeling his body against mine, when I sensed something hardening against my groin—my son's cock—and he wriggled his hips and slipped out of my embrace. Flustered, he sat back down at his desk, but somehow I found him adorable. Girl or not, this boy was still a man after all.
After that, every tutoring session—three times a week—I had sex with Ji-sung. On days without tutoring, I felt strangely empty. As if I were in heat, on tutoring days my head was full of nothing but him from morning on, and the moment I entered his room we'd fall into each other's arms, feeling each other's bodies. Before long, we started going out on weekend dates too. Afraid someone might recognize us, we had to travel quite far, but even the stares of strangers as we walked hand in hand felt sweet. I was proud of this body of mine—that it could date a boy young enough to be my son, that it could stir his lust. When I parked in some deserted spot and bent my head to suck Ji-sung's cock with my mouth, he would pounce on me like a beast and drive that stiffened length into my body. Being with that youth, I felt as if I'd gone back to being twenty myself.
Then one day in early autumn, I went for a tutoring session and threw myself at Ji-sung, kissing him as always—but he kissed me with less energy than usual, then pushed me away, sat down at his desk, and said,
"I'm a bit tired today. Let's just do the lesson."
"Oh—oh, all right."
Embarrassed at how I'd been clinging to him like a cat in heat, I sat down awkwardly and taught the lesson. I figured even a young man, having sex every other day, was bound to have tired days. But the next time, and the time after that, Ji-sung showed no interest in my body at all. Then I knew it instinctively. He's grown tired of me. My heart plummeted. The fear had always been there—what if it came to this? Ji-sung at twenty, me at forty-three. What if he was only venting his vigorous young lust into me, and didn't actually love me? Once he'd enjoyed my body to the full and grown bored, wouldn't I be discarded in the end?
"Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
I asked as casually as I could, but Ji-sung surely knew perfectly well that I wanted sex.
"No, I'm just tired, that's all."
"I see?"
Ji-sung's attitude toward me no longer held the passion it once had.