23. Jealousy (4)
"Mmm..."
Dawn.
Lying in bed, reading the text Lee Hayun had sent, I let a small groan slip out.
It wasn't guilt. Nothing like she's only acting like this because I hang out with Jiyoon so much—I wasn't sorry.
I was just stuck on it.
Hayun's text, sent at the edge of dawn. How best to use it. It was a pretty decent "event," near enough (Lee Jiyoon's way of talking was rubbing off on me), and I didn't want to waste the chance...
How to spend it so it tasted the best. That sort of thing.
"..."
Hayun's little scheme, if you could call it that. Anyway, the situation itself was pretty good.
Meet tomorrow night. Ease up on the games. Meet without Lee Jiyoon. Anywhere is fine.
Lump all of that together, and what you got was something like: you're pissing me off, only playing with Jiyoon, so play with me too...
No. This time it was closer to play with only me.
I couldn't be sure, but it seemed she'd grown something like jealousy toward her little sister.
"That wasn't what I was going for."
Forcing an interest in a game I didn't even enjoy, shooting guns with Jiyoon every night—that had only ever been an excuse to get close to her. And somewhere in the middle of it, Hayun, right there beside us, had gotten a little hooked.
Whatever the cause, however we'd ended up here, I didn't dislike this situation. Not even a little.
An older sister jealous of her younger sister. Use that right, and I could pull at least one result I liked out of it without much trouble, couldn't I?
"Mmm..."
Which was why another small groan slipped out.
...Someday I'd wanted to take both Lee Hayun and Lee Jiyoon in the same bed. With jealousy mixed in, that would be harder.
Say they competed over which of them I liked more. How was I supposed to pull off, in real life, a situation that belonged in an anime? I'd hear Hayun tell me we should break up long before it ever got that far.
"...Should I just give up?"
It was difficult. Difficult enough that I kept getting attached.
Jiyoon, whose tastes ran to affairs, might have been one thing. Lee Hayun, with a perfectly ordinary sense of chastity, was different. Not just sisters—no "normal girl" was going to understand two women rolling around on a bed with one man.
It wasn't that there was no way at all. I just didn't want to go that far.
More than anything, I wanted Hayun with that dazed is this really okay? look on her face, kneeling beside Jiyoon while Jiyoon sucked cock slowly and pretended to be clumsy, the two sisters licking one man's cock together. And then, in the end, taking it and moaning in little hiccuping gasps. That green, flustered version would turn me on so much more than some cheap scene where they sucked him off side by side like it was obvious from the start.
And Hayun, trying to play the big sister in front of Jiyoon, trying to take the lead—then genuinely falling apart, gushing, twitching, wrecked. That'd be pretty hot too.
Was there any way I could see that with my own eyes?
"Haa..."
Giving up felt like a waste. But laying plans for some someday with no promise attached—there were too many obstacles in the way.
Then again, the jealousy Hayun was showing me right now looked like it could produce at least one tasty result on its own.
"..."
Was I going to run myself ragged, dick-out desperate, chasing a situation that matched my tastes a hundred percent? Or easily swallow one that was only about seventy—but still plenty worth eating?
"..."
I lay in bed and turned it over for a long while, and only just before sleep could I choose.
Among the sayings of the old sages, there is this.
Even if you never get to eat it—it's still a persimmon.
So I deliberately texted Jiyoon first thing in the morning.
Boiled down, it came to something like: I'll be having sex with your sister, so you stay home and rest.
I didn't know if that was the best move. I'm not smart enough to spin a plan without a single gap. I'm a pretty solid idiot, honestly. So I just went with whatever turned me on the most.
As much as Hayun felt jealous of her little sister, I'd make Jiyoon feel jealous of her big sister. ...Well, do that, and it'd work itself out somehow, right?
That was the plan. Whether trash like that even deserved to be called a "plan"—I'd worry about that later.
"Why are you here?"
"Hmm? I'm a student here too. Am I not allowed to come?"
"Yeah. Get out."
Fourth period, in full swing. I was roughing out a date course with Hayun on my laptop when an uninvited guest showed up.
The girl who'd gotten drunk, spilled every last thing she was hiding, and was now pretending she didn't remember, trying to smooth it over. None other than Yojora.
She'd tied her hair into a lazy ponytail, like she couldn't be bothered—a sweat-damp white T-shirt under a dark gray tracksuit that looked a good two sizes too big. Half her hand hidden in the sleeve, she grinned and gave a little flutter of a wave.
It wasn't like she'd borrowed a boyfriend's tracksuit, so why she'd picked something that huge, I'd let slide for now. Still, figuring I was smarter than her put me a little more at ease. Then again, if I were dumber than an alcoholic who spent every day drunk and rolling around on the floor, that would be its own problem.
"There's no way you'd get hurt at a first-year's level, Yojora."
"If I don't at least pretend, I won't look like a first-year. And I actually sprained my wrist in practice just now. Here. Look."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it, but could you at least wash up before you come? You reek of sweat..."
"I got hurt, how am I supposed to wash? What if I just lie down on this bed like this?"
"Go ahead. I'm not the one doing the laundry anyway. The staff who strip the beds and the washing machine handle all of it."
"You're the one who changes the sheets, though, aren't you? Mmm... sheets stained with my sweat, and you'll have to change every one of them..."
"...If you're gonna talk shit, just leave nicely. I'm busy."
"Busy? Why? ...Oh. Whenever I sweat, everyone's too busy staring. Is that it?"
What's gotten into her this time—the thought lasted only a second. I turned back to the laptop, then let my eyes slide toward Yojora.
And down.
Down.
Down.
"......"
Beneath the corner of Yojora's mouth, which had started to curl into a grin. Between the dark gray tracksuit, unzipped and gaping wide. A white T-shirt clung lightly over a vulgar-looking line of cleavage.
And as if to emphasize it, Yojora, wearing a playful smile, caught the hem of her shirt and carefully tugged it down. On the badly wrinkled tee, only the part touching her breasts smoothed out prettily. The dark shadow cast beneath them had gotten a lot filthier, too.
"...You look busy, Teacher."
"..."
But it wasn't like yesterday with Han Sua—lock the door and fuck her until the root of my cock went sore. I wasn't particularly in the mood for that.
"So. Why'd you come."
If I really wanted it, I could just call Han Sua—built to get me off the same way, and a whole lot purer—and fuck her senseless. You? Why would I bother? And it wasn't as if I'd never touched those. I'd already had my hands on them more than a few times.
...Well. With the sweat, the shirt sticking to her breasts would feel gross. That was about the whole of it.
"Why did I come, I wonder...?"
"I'm not curious, so get out."
"If I really leave, you'll pout."
"I said get out."
She was grinning like she'd won, and it annoyed me, so I answered even more coldly on purpose. Meaning stop being a pain and go.
"...Ah. That's what you meant? Hnng..."
But that kind of nonverbal communication seemed to have come a little early for Yojora—disqualified as a human, passed with flying colors as a beast. Now she was outright snickering, just to get on my nerves.
...Sigh.
Fucking bitch.
"Mmm. There's something I wanted to ask you, but I just couldn't find the time~"
"You could've asked over the phone."
"That was nothing important, so we'll let it slide."
Hit where it hurt, Yojora casually lay down on the bed. Then her red eyes, smiling brightly, turned to mine.
"...Sua. I was wondering if you fucked her yesterday."
"Yeah."
"......"
"I told you, so please just get out already."
"...I can't leave until you treat me, Teacher."
"You're faking it."
"No, I really did get hurt..."
"...Ha..."
I'd waved her off like I was shooing a bug, but Yojora only giggled. She didn't look like she had any intention of leaving. She just sat in the chair in front of me, pushed her sleeve up to show a wrist swollen faintly red, and clung—treat me, treat me.
I hadn't expected her to listen. So why, seeing her actually do this, did a sigh come out of me? Had I, just a tiny bit, actually been expecting something?
"...Ngh."
"Bear it. I only gripped it lightly. It shouldn't even hurt that much."
"...Heh.... It's a lot easier to take than when you raped me in the bathroom last time, pounding away..."
Wasn't that play-rape, not rape.
No. Forget it.
I let out a heavy sigh, gripped Yojora's wrist tight, and started healing her quickly. Better to get her out and pick somewhere to take Hayun than to keep entertaining Yojora. That would be the more productive use of my time.
I was fixing her wrist in a hurry, no other students coming by the Academy Infirmary, when—
"...Hey."
"What."
Yojora, head bowed low, spoke in a halting voice.
"...How was Sua?"
"How was she."
"...You know. How... how was she..."
Chewing on her own tongue. Halting.
"Say it so someone who understands words can understand it, idiot. Are you asking if she was pretty? Or what..."
"...W-whether she was... worth eating. Sua..."
"..."
"...Did she taste bad...?"
Now that she mentioned it, when I'd been texting her drunk, I think I'd said something about offering up Han Sua. Something like that.
...She'd prepared so hard. Was this her asking for a reward?
"..."
"..."
But what was I supposed to do. The way you usually act pisses me off so much I don't feel like just handing it over. At minimum, I wouldn't be satisfied until I saw you strip naked in here and press your forehead to the floor.
...Ah.
No. This was what you'd been aiming for too, wasn't it. Typical brat-kink masochist freak—you'd already laid your tastes bare over text, and you'd engineered all of this just to see me get angry.
...But really, what was I supposed to do. Right now, more than any urge to fuck you until you broke—
"...I don't know what you're talking about. Treatment's done, so get out."
"..."
—I wanted more to put Jiyoon and Hayun on their knees together.
So get out of here.
Whether you took your reward from me right now, or it got pushed far back, you'd like both. Put off, thrown away, forgotten, and in the end treated like a nice-textured onahole—pounded from behind, nipples squeezed like I was milking you, head forced back, gulping down my spit. You'd still be too busy panting and moaning under me.