The Department President's Naked Body
After surviving that shocking experience and stumbling out of the building, someone suddenly threw an arm around my shoulder.
I flinched and looked over to find Hansu, a second-year senior. The familiar scent of his woody cologne drifted up to my nose.
"So? Wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No. But... it was pretty different from what I imagined."
"Heh... I saw you back there, you know. You about jumped out of your skin when Yuna grabbed Homi's cock."
So my whole body had jolted hard enough to be visible from the back row. My face burned.
Since the topic had come up anyway, I decided to press him for more details.
"But still. Yuna has a boyfriend, doesn't she? Is it really okay for her to do that?"
"Hmm... Of course it's not. Imagine your girlfriend grabbing another guy's dick. Obviously not okay."
Hansu's expression turned serious for a moment.
"Then why did Yuna do it back there...?"
"Because somebody had to. When you become class president, that kind of thing is just part of the job. It was done for the sake of the practical, so it doesn't mean anything. So don't read anything into it either."
The duty of the class president. In other words, even helping a model get erect fell within the class president's role. It defied all common sense, but apparently, at this school, it was tradition.
"But Homi was touching Yuna's chest too back there. Does that happen often?"
"Heh heh... What, you want a turn too?"
"Wh-what... uh... n-no. No, of course not."
That was my answer, but my face had already gone red. Hansu took one look at me and burst out laughing.
"Don't lie. I know I want to. Just watching Yuna's chest gets me hard, but actually touching it... ahh..."
Hansu squeezed and opened his hand in the air, miming the act of kneading.
"Huh? Have you touched them before, senior?"
"Hm? Hmm... Well, now."
Judging by his reaction, Hansu had apparently gotten his hands on Yuna's chest at some point. The way he trailed off with the corner of his mouth curling up left no doubt.
And with that realization, my chest began to itch with anticipation. If I ever became the model, Yuna would come over and take my cock in her hand when I failed to get hard — and at that moment, wouldn't I get to touch Yuna's chest too?
Just imagining what those huge breasts might feel like set my heart pounding.
"Ah... anyway, that aside. You can't tell anyone about what happened in our class today."
Hansu's voice dropped suddenly. His eyes were dead serious.
"Huh? Okay. There's no one I'd tell anyway."
"Ah, you poor bastard. The first-year girls this year are unusually fierce. You've got it rough. Just hang in there a little longer. It'll get better."
It showed no sign of getting better, but I nodded anyway. It hadn't changed in three months; I couldn't expect it to change now.
"Sigh... come on, let's get some food. My treat."
And so I scored a free meal off Hansu. Over food, he shared bits and pieces of his own nude class experience from last year. He said the first time he exposed himself, he thought he'd die of embarrassment, but you just go numb to it eventually.
After eating, I went back to the art studio to put the finishing touches on today's drawing, then headed home.
Before falling asleep, I pulled my pants down yet again. The image of Yuna's hand wrapped around Homi's cock refused to leave my head.
The next day, I was once again the first to arrive at the art studio, settling into the front row seat.
My heart was still pounding. Even harder than yesterday.
Out of 25 students total, 7 were first-years, and 6 were men.
Since Homi was drawn yesterday, 24 slips remained in the box. Subtracting the 7 first-years left 17 — 13 held by female seniors and 4 by male seniors. Roughly a 76% chance that today's model would be a woman.
My pounding heart wouldn't let up. Seventy-six percent. More than three out of four.
Before long, the girls from my year started trickling into the studio. They came in clustered in little groups just like yesterday, and the moment they spotted me, their expressions hardened.
"Uh... hi."
I worked up the courage to greet them, but no one answered. They simply sat down with the same look as if they'd stepped in something filthy. Nayea sat as far from me as possible, and the others drew distance around me in a loose half-circle, as if I were the epicenter.
It was a familiar scene. But today, the indifference didn't hit me the way it usually did.
I had made my resolve. The day those bitches had to model, I would etch every last inch of their bodies into my memory — not a single detail spared.
The day those girls who treated me like an insect had to stand there naked was bound to come, and when it did, I would miss nothing. The color of their nipples, the shape of their pussies, the amount of their pubic hair, down to the number of wrinkles around their assholes.
"Is everyone here?"
At some point everyone had gathered, and class president Yuna stepped up onto the podium. The same spot, the same posture as yesterday. But today, a subtle tension played across her face that hadn't been there before.
"Alright, time to draw."
Yuna slipped her hand into the box of slips, rustled them around a while longer, then drew one out.
The air in the studio froze. Every eye in the room was fixed on the small paper slip pinched between Yuna's fingers.
Yuna unfolded the slip. And stopped.
"Oh, come on... seriously?"
Whoever it was, Yuna was visibly flustered. Her brow furrowed and smoothed, furrowed and smoothed, until finally she let out a single sigh and spoke.
"It's me today. I'll go get ready."
My heart dropped with a thud.
This was the class president I could barely even make eye contact with. She was sometimes gentle with me, but fundamentally she was cold and imperious. Her talent for dressing people down was first-rate — to the first-years, she was an object of pure fear.
And yet, thanks to the large bust that contrasted so sharply with her plain-but-appealing face, she was always someone my eyes gravitated toward. That chest, which asserted itself even through her clothes — soon I would see the moment it stood revealed without them.
This was the first time I'd ever be seeing the naked body of a woman I actually knew. My heartbeat simply would not stop. It felt like my heart was battering against my ribs.
— Creeeak
A short while later, the door to the preparation room opened, and Yuna emerged in a white robe.
The sash of the robe was pulled tight and knotted, and her bare feet showed beneath the hem. In contrast to her usual confident stride, she mounted the podium with careful, hesitant steps.
The entire studio seemed to hold its breath.
Gulp. I swallowed. I half expected the people around me to hear my heart hammering.
And then, at last.
Yuna loosened the sash of her white robe. The garment fell slowly open on either side and slid down from her shoulders. Yuna caught it, eased it off, and set it down at the base of the podium.
Before my eyes unfolded a naked body so radiant it felt blinding.
The first thing to catch my eye was, naturally, her enormous breasts.
A size I'd only ever seen in AV videos. Probably around a D-cup — they sagged a little, but considering their sheer size, they were a pretty pair. That heavy, weighty chest hung naturally downward under gravity, swaying gently with her every movement.
And the areolae at the center of those breasts were remarkably large. Their diameter, a reddish brown, looked big enough to fit two ten-cent coins side by side. Against the pale white skin of her breasts, those dark areolae left a striking impression.
Big breasts paired with big areolae looked incredibly lewd. Any notion of an artistic perspective had long since fled my head.
At the center of each areola, a nipple poked proudly outward. Also reddish brown, they seemed to jut out nearly a centimeter. Whether from nerves or not, her nipples stood stiff and firm, gleaming under the fluorescent light.
All in all, it was an utterly maddening chest.
Because this was the first time I'd seen the breasts of a woman I knew, the wave of emotion crashing over me was no joke. My eyes almost welled up.
Then my gaze traveled downward.
Her navel came into view, and below it, a patch of forest.
A black thicket, kept modestly visible. Whether she maintained it or not, her pubic hair was trimmed neatly to an even length. Shaped into a triangle, the groomed strip only seemed to draw the eye further down.
And there, peeking shyly through that thicket, I caught sight of the crease of her pussy.
I couldn't make out the details, but the mere fact that her pussy was visible sent a surge of precum flooding out of me. I could feel my pants growing damp.
Yuna rested both hands on her hips and stood with her legs together. Like yesterday, she seemed to be starting with the basic pose.
I was supposed to be drawing, but I couldn't collect myself. The hand gripping my pencil was trembling. I wanted to touch my cock so badly. Inside my pants, my cock stood fully erect, pushing insistently against my thigh.
Then my eyes met Yuna's.
I'd caught myself assuming that as a fourth-year, this would be her fourth time through the practical and she'd be used to it — but I was wrong.
Her ears were scarlet, and her eyes glistened as if a thin film of tears had gathered there. The iron-willed senior who barked orders at first-years was nowhere to be found. Standing on the podium now was nothing more than a single woman, trembling under the shame of baring her naked body.
Apparently, even a fourth time wasn't enough to make this feel routine.
Watching her like that, a wave of guilt washed over me.
I should just draw the picture.
I picked up my pencil and looked back at Yuna, determined to work.
But this was no time for drawing. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her naked body.
Her nipples seemed to have grown even larger, and her legs had drifted slightly further apart, making the crease more visible. Between the dark hair, a hint of pink seemed to glimmer through.
And then, suddenly, a thought struck me.
Isn't Yuna's naked body something only her boyfriend should be allowed to see?
The moment that thought took hold, a sense of depravity began to rise in me. The feeling of looking at something forbidden welled up from deep in my chest.
I wondered what her boyfriend would think if he could see her like this — the man who got to touch those breasts and that pussy every day, who slid his cock inside her.
To know that his girlfriend stood naked before 24 people, and that a first-year boy in the front seat was staring, unable to look away.
It was nothing more than a practical exercise, and yet somehow it felt like I was stealing another man's girlfriend.
And that feeling — strangely enough — didn't feel bad at all.