The President's Miss Ji

And so, even while working as a teaching assistant in the physical education department at university, he had spent his time buttering up the professors and insinuating himself into the various sports organizations that received government funding. There were plenty of kickbacks to be skimmed, after all.

That was how Yang Gi-pal had lived — drifting from one athletic association to another without any respectable career to his name, making a living off siphoning public budgets.

But along the way, in his forties, he had happened to buy a stake in a sporting goods business started by a college classmate. The venture had done surprisingly well, and honestly, Yang Gi-pal no longer had to worry much about putting food on the table.

It was this same Yang Gi-pal who — with no evidence whatsoever, just a stab in the dark — had needled Ji Hye-in about her secret relationship with the president of the association where she worked.

No matter how he looked at it, something had seemed off. Keeping a female employee on staff for years on end was no simple matter. It was a position where she didn't particularly do much of anything, yet her paycheck went out like clockwork.

The association president was a man of some means, but he was in his late sixties. The fact that an old man who would turn seventy any day now was carrying on an affair with a married woman who had barely entered her forties — Yang Gi-pal couldn't help but be inwardly astonished.

That Ji Hye-in was a public sub at the cafe had been surprising enough. But quite apart from that, learning she was involved with the president of the sports association where she actually worked... Yang Gi-pal found himself thinking, once again, that the old sayings really weren't wrong about a single ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thing.

Yang Gi-pal, who had jammed his fingers into Ji Hye-in's cunt and made a complete mess of her, had followed a cowgirl ride by taking her from behind — and had, for the moment, spent himself once and pulled out.

The instant he withdrew, he put Ji Hye-in straight to work sucking him off.

"Man... looking at that face of yours... you really do look so quiet and wholesome. You can never tell a person just by their appearance. Hey, Hye-in. You do it with that old association president a lot?"

"......"

Ji Hye-in's face had gone bright red, and she couldn't answer.

"Why aren't you answering? If you're a public sub, whatever a member wants to know, you've gotta answer all of it."

"Um... Secretary... that subject... couldn't you just pretend you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never heard it?"

Ji Hye-in, who had been sucking on Yang Gi-pal's cock — still slick and glistening from having just been inside her — pulled it from her mouth and spoke carefully.

"Hey, Hye-in. Where the hell would I go around talking about that? I'm fine knowing. But you've been playing cock-sleeve for the association president longer than you've been a public sub at the cafe, haven't you?"

Ji Hye-in, her face flushed, slowly nodded.

"Whoa... damn. That's something else. The association president... that old man... he's got some stamina, huh. So how often do you do it? Do you still do it these days?"

"Yes... whenever the president wants to... anytime, really..."

"That old man... how often does he do it?"

"At least once a week... he always does it, I think."

"That's impressive. Wow... this is exactly why they say you can know ten fathoms of water, but you can never know one fathom of what's inside a person."

"You've given it up to the other executives too, haven't you?"

At Yang Gi-pal's question, Ji Hye-in shook her head firmly.

"Don't lie. A bitch with a submissive streak like you didn't give it up to the guys who came sniffing around? You've been doing clerical work at that association for how many years now?"

"The president told me never ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to give it to anyone else. So... I didn't."

"Well, well. So plenty of guys have made a pass at you, then? Those old farts at your association are a bunch of filthy bastards."

"Almost all of them made a move... more than once. But besides the president, I haven't given it to anyone..."

Ji Hye-in was speaking with her head hung low.

"Damn. I've never seen a bitch like you. Come here."

Secretary Yang Gi-pal pulled Ji Hye-in into a tight embrace.

"Ahh... feels so good. Your husband is one lucky bastard. The way you just wrap around me like this... your skin's like silk. This bitch... I'm gonna wreck you today."

"Um... Secretary... please don't use your hands. Your nails... they leave scratches inside me..."

"Don't give me that shit, you whore. After I hold you today, when the hell am I gonna get to hold you again? If you go complaining to the admins, those bastards'll all take your side, won't they? Fuck... netori bastards taking the sub bitch's side — that's why the cafe's a goddamn mess. Shit..."

Yang Gi-pal spat the crude curses and once again shoved the head of his cock into Ji Hye-in's mouth.

It was still morning — not even lunchtime. Ji Hye-in received the sudden call, locked the office door, and quickly went out.

Then she was walking into a shabby motel down a back alley near the office, less than a five-minute walk away.

"Hello... I'd like a room for a short stay, please."

"Yes, hello there."

The middle-aged motel owner, whose face had long since become familiar, returned her greeting. Ji Hye-in took the key and went up alone. The moment she entered the room, she sent a text to the association president.

About ten minutes later, the door opened. She had left it unlocked.

"Miss Ji. How long has it been?"

"It's been a week, sir."

"Heh heh... has it only been that long?"

The association president was grinning, teeth bared. Next year he would turn seventy on the nose — sixty-nine years old, just one year shy of the big seven-oh.

"Let's wash up a bit."

"Yes, President."

Ji Hye-in stripped in a hurry, peeling off every last thread until she stood completely naked. Then she began undressing him. Even as his clothes came off, one of his hands reached for her mound and began stroking her pubic hair.

"Heheh... our Miss Ji... it'd be nice if you'd just shave that pussy hair right off. Though your husband would notice, wouldn't he. That's the trouble with sampling another man's property on the sly — it always takes some effort."

The president knew perfectly well that Ji Hye-in was a married woman, and yet he kept calling her Miss Ji. It was that old-fashioned "Miss So-and-so" form of address, the kind you'd use for a teahouse waitress, a usage that had largely fallen out of fashion — and he kept deploying it all the same.

At last the president was naked too. Ji Hye-in led him into the bathroom and soaped him down, working the lather into every corner of his body. Afterward she dried him thoroughly with a towel, laid him on the bed, and began with a kiss on the lips — then slowly, methodically, caressed his entire body with her tongue.

She licked between each of his toes, spread his legs wide, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and even pushed her tongue into his anus, lapping at it with devoted care. After thoroughly licking between his toes and across the soles of his feet, and after lingering a long while over his asshole, Ji Hye-in finished by sucking his cock in long, steady strokes.

The president's cock stood stiff and proud, so hard it was hard to believe he was sixty-nine years old.

Ji Hye-in climbed on top of him, settling into a woman-on-top position. With one hand she took hold of his penis and guided it into her body. Then she began to ride him in a slow, grinding rhythm, her hands stroking over his body all the while.

"Ohh... that's good. Miss Ji... that really is good."

The president lay back at his ease, letting her handle everything from the foreplay to the penetration, and received it all with little murmurs of appreciation.

Still lying on his back, he reached up with both hands and pulled her body toward him. He tipped her torso forward, took her breast into his mouth, and began chewing on her nipple the way one chews a piece of gum — grinding, working it between his teeth.

"Ahh—"

A short gasp of pain escaped Ji Hye-in's lips, but the president paid it no mind and bit down a little harder. She could not refuse him. She submitted, quietly and completely, to whatever the association president chose to do.

"Miss Ji. I'm going to a hot spring over in Japan for about ten days. If anyone calls, don't say I went to a hot spring. Tell them I went to Japan on business."

"Yes, President."

"Miss Ji... you've been wearing nothing but short skirts lately. Looks good."

The association president said this while groping her ass, having already come inside her. Ji Hye-in lay still in the sixty-nine-year-old man's arms, as motionless as a doll.

It was a relationship that had already been going on for five years.

In truth, Ji Hye-in had started sharing a bed with the association president a full year before her husband, Yoo Kang-soo, even left the military. His advances had been going on since before that, and she had refused him to the end — until five years ago, when, more or less by force, she had been raped by the president while he was drunk.

On the surface, it had been rape. She could have stopped him more forcefully if she had wanted to. But that day, for reasons she herself could not name, Ji Hye-in had simply... passively... accepted the association president's body.