It’s Not Sex (8)
I knew perfectly well that my chest was a part of me that drew a lot of attention. ...Whether it was back in middle school or high school, it would be strange if I hadn't noticed the boys constantly sneaking glances. Ah. Maybe they just find it fascinating because it's a bit larger than others'. Ah. Maybe they're just watching from afar because of our parents' social standing. Ah. ...How mortifying. Ah. I wish I could just wear baggy clothes instead of this tight school uniform.
The fact that I felt a tiny spark of pride for the first time in these breasts, which I had only ever tried to hide from others, was perhaps all thanks to... the man standing before me, or rather, the man looking down at me from a slightly higher vantage point: Seo Woojin.
"You probably don't have any love gel... Is there anything else suitably slippery?"
"...U-usually, people use this..."
"This?"
"Like this... bleh... by spitting..."
Sometimes I’d accidentally spill mouthwash. Sometimes I’d spill soup. Sometimes, as a joke, I’d even drink through a straw with a beverage cup balanced on them, but this was the first time I’d ever spat onto my own breasts. Bleh— I stuck out the tip of my tongue and let the saliva drip down, wetting the space between my breasts. To be precise, I made sure it touched the glans of the teacher's penis, which was poking out from between them.
"..."
...It twitched. Just now.
"...Su-a."
"Y-yes, mmph... yes."
"It looks good, but... are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's my body anyway, so spitting on it a little is nothing..."
"Not that. I'm asking if you're okay, since it might chafe and hurt if I only wet it with saliva."
"...Ah, chafe..."
"Hoo... you have body lotion, right?"
"Yes. J-just a moment... I have a little left..."
How should I stroke him to satisfy him? Surely, wrapping them tightly and stroking all the way to the base would be best. That was roughly how Yozora had shown me before, and how it looked in the erotic comics I’d seen. I paused my paizuri plan, which I had been diligently building up, and squeezed a generous amount of the leftover body lotion from the corner of the vanity onto my chest. ...Was it because this was my first time applying so much? The sensation, as if I’d slathered on a thick layer of whipped cream, felt incredibly strange, but I didn't show it on the outside and knelt back down between the teacher's legs.
And then, slowly.
"..."
With my soft breasts, which were slightly... larger than Yozora's and made the teacher keep getting excited. ...I carefully wrapped them around his penis, which was wet with precum and saliva.
"It's gotten cold. It was quite warm earlier."
"Cold... ah, for me, it's actually become incredibly... hot."
Up. Just a little bit up. I pulled my breasts up so that the teacher's glans, which had been poking out by about a finger's width, was completely buried and hidden in my chest.
"...Teacher."
"...Why."
After pulling them up and stroking him, I moved down. "Is this how I should do it?"
"...Yeah."
"Does it... feel good?"
"If you look... hoo... you know."
Even though I didn't want them to, my nipples stood out prominently, rubbing against his lower abdomen, and eventually, I pulled my breasts down until this lewd body was pressed against the teacher's thighs. Down. I pulled them down until the penis, which had been trembling between my breasts, poked out slightly from the cleavage and vomited up precum, adding to the stickiness.
...For some reason, I felt a complex, subtle sensation, as if I were a maid serving her master, but I didn't care at all. That was the kind of story that perverts like Yozora would like. I wasn't interested in that sort of thing. Shameful fluids were busy flowing down my thighs as I knelt there, but I paid it no mind.
"...Then I'll keep doing it like this?"
"..."
When the teacher, who had nodded at my question, gripped the bed tightly and let out a sigh, I moved up. ...Hoping to make him feel even better, I wet the cleavage with more saliva. Down. For the same reason, I licked the still-trembling glans with the tip of my tongue, then moved up. ...Suddenly, the teacher gently stroked my hair, and I moved down.
Was this what felt good? After carefully licking the precum-covered glans, I moved up, as if pulling the semen that must be packed inside his penis toward the top. ...To satisfy him by drawing out as much semen as possible at once, I moved down, as if dragging the semen that had filled to the very tip all the way to the base.
Before I could even hear his answer to my question of whether I was doing well, I moved up. Perhaps it was because I’d slathered on lotion instead of proper gel. I spat fresh saliva into the space between my breasts, which were drying out little by little, and moved down.
Crazy bitch, did he say? Hearing the teacher’s curse, slurred while my head was hazy, I moved up. ...And then.
"...Ah, fuck..."
"..."
Splurt, splurt-splurt... splutter... I received his first ejaculation, which was surely incredibly thick, entirely between my tightly closed breasts.
"...This is your first time doing paizuri, isn't it."
"..."
...Hot, sticky fluid pounded against my chest in a mess. It wasn't like my uterus was there, and I wouldn't get pregnant just because he came like that. I wasn't gaining any spoils of war, either. The thick semen, enough to make me wonder if I would have gotten pregnant if I’d taken it down below, knocked hard against my solar plexus.
"...I don't even feel like comparing you to Yozora anymore."
And it was a lot—not even comparable to the five-second ejaculations I’d seen in all those videos. It lasted for a long time, clearly more than three times the amount I’d felt before. Splurt, splurt...
"She wasn't as good as doing it with my own hands."
Perhaps that was why. A memory from the past surfaced. The memory of the day I first received the teacher's semen, the memory of me licking his penis lewdly while losing my reason for a moment. Secretly, while the teacher was busy dirtying my chest, I moved... down.
"..."
Splurt, splutter... spluuurt... Because my breasts had moved down, the semen that had been buried between them surged up, and it even painted its color up to my collarbone, where cold sweat had been gathering. Splurt, splurt. On my cleavage, covered in milk-colored semen, more ejaculation was added, though it was only twitching with less vigor than before. It was at a position far too low for me to accidentally touch it with my tongue or sniff it diligently.
"Hoo... Su-a. Should I bring you a tissue?"
"..."
I knew how to break this strange atmosphere right after he came—saying something like, Are you satisfied with this? or Teacher, you’ve made me so dirty. But the words wouldn't come out. ...How should I put it? It felt similar to when the teacher kissed me earlier. But perhaps it was because I’d experienced being rendered speechless twice now. Now I knew for sure why I was acting like this. It wasn't because I wanted to keep kissing the teacher. It wasn't because of some childish reason like that.
...It was... because if I kept letting him kiss me while I kept refusing, wouldn't the teacher eventually lose his patience and ravish me...? And if he did, wouldn't it feel incredibly, incredibly good...? It was because of such lewd thoughts. The reason I’d tried to touch the semen with my tongue as if by mistake, and the reason I wondered if the teacher looking down from above would get excited... was because if I was going to part ways without having sex today, I wanted to take at least a memory I could use when I masturbated at dawn. ...I believed that if I had sex, I’d get addicted and my life would be ruined, but that didn't mean I didn't want to have sex. On the contrary, if possible, I wanted to have sex with the teacher all day long. Academy. The housekeeper. My parents. Yozora. I wanted to be with the teacher, putting everything else on the back burner.
"...I, I'll go get a towel..."
"You don't need a towel, wet wipes or tissues will do."
"It's just that the bottom drawer is full of them..."
"What are you going to tell the housekeeper who does the laundry?"
"Wouldn't that be better...? Leaving traces on the towel would make it easier for her to check later."
"...Check what."