episode_0329

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When one gets a lover, it’s typical to devote oneself entirely to that person.

Of course, exceptions exist—like when instinctually stealing a glance at someone irresistibly alluring who passes by—but such distractions are unavoidable.

Breaking this norm generally happens under three circumstances.

First, when old affection cools and the heart no longer flutters.

Second, when the person is inherently incapable of focusing on just one partner.

Lastly, when one possesses a twisted nature, finding perverse pleasure in offering their proud lover to someone superior and then wishing to watch the ensuing hours unfold as if it were a film.

Granted, the third case is exceptionally rare—not only because it requires such a deranged disposition, but also because the lover must foolishly agree to such an outrageous proposal.

For now, let’s set aside the third scenario.

The second case also seems improbable for Seol Da-bin.

That leaves only the first scenario as plausible concerning Da-bin.

After all, hadn’t she been dating her boyfriend since childhood—over ten years? Doesn’t that fit perfectly?

According to classmates, their relationship didn’t even seem particularly close lately.

From what I’d heard before, they’d even fought over drinking issues.

So, my current objective should be:

Making frequent appearances around Da-bin in ways that invite comparison with her boyfriend.

Sitting comfortably on the infirmary chair, I picked up my phone from the desk.

This was shortly after a surprise interrogation by Lee Ji-yoon, who repeatedly bonked my head while screeching, “What did you do with Yozora?!”

329

The buckwheat noodles were good.

They were good—emphasis on were.

But that didn’t make them worth sweating under the scorching sun to revisit.

A taste typical of any ordinary franchise—reliable, but nothing special.

I had no intention of complaining about this exhaustion in front of my boyfriend, though.

Had he dragged me to yet another Malatang place months ago under the excuse of it trending, maybe. But this time, he chose the place with me in mind.

Throwing a tantrum now would just make me look like an unsociable lunatic.

So, in front of him, my responses amounted to: Thanks for the meal, it was delicious, maybe we’ll come again…

After lunch, I returned to the academy and made my way to the classroom, enjoying the cool breeze from the air conditioner.

“……?”

Several girls from class were clustered intimately around someone’s desk.

To put it bluntly, it felt almost… primitive. Like cavemen huddled around a bonfire.

That was the closest comparison.

At a glance, it seemed to be Hayoon’s desk.

But from this distance, there was no telling why they were gathered.

Standing on tiptoe, I glimpsed a ponytail—likely Hayoon’s—peeking from the center.

Were they passing out snacks?

But the mood seemed unnervingly tense.

After closing the back door to keep the cool air in, I deliberately made my presence known as I approached the crowd.

“What’s going on?”

“Ah, Da-bin! Come here, quick! This is serious.”

About six of them.

Letting myself be pushed forward, I locked bewildered eyes with Hayoon.

Judging by her expression, she was just as clueless as I was.

Though her lips were curved in her usual smile, her darting gaze betrayed unmistakable panic.

Grabbing a chair from the empty desk beside me, I sat at a right angle to hers, our desks forming a barrier.

The spot opposite was already occupied by friends sipping juice through straws.

“What’s so serious? What happened?”

“Well, it’s nothing big, but they’re exaggerating—”

Though I addressed the others, it was Hayoon who stammered in response, her cheeks flushing red.

One friend tapped Hayoon’s lips with a crumpled juice carton before answering in an exaggeratedly grave tone.

“Hayoon. She got a boyfriend.”

“…”

“And guess who it is…? The new health teacher.”

Frankly, I couldn’t care less.

I’d already known this.

So, with deliberate disinterest, I pressed,

“Why’s that a big deal? Is this why you’re all gathered?”

“Exactly! It’s Hayoon and the health teacher—how could we not crowd around?”

“Is Hayoon not allowed to date? Is she a nun?”

“It’s not about whether she can or can’t—aren’t you curious about how they got together?”

“…”

Probably while he was treating her injuries, they grew close, and eventually started dating.

A cliché backstory came to mind—nothing intriguing about how it played out.

But saying so while friends were this invested wouldn’t fly.

So, feigning interest, I nodded along as Hayoon hesitantly recounted her love story.

…Being closest to a high-profile couple forced me to play judge of appropriateness, but really, any other girl could’ve done this.

Anyway, here’s the gist:

During winter break, Hayoon saved Seo Woo-jin from nearly getting hit by a car.

She later learned he’d be joining our academy as the new health teacher next semester.

Then, by chance, Woo-jin visited the convenience store where Hayoon worked part-time and rescued her from an attempted robbery.

Being handsome, she fell for him at first sight.

They’d kept it secret until now.

A perfectly ordinary student romance.

The robbery added mild drama, but the core was generic: He was hot, so she fell for him.

Even without that crisis, she’d have fallen anyway.

Hayoon got confessed to often enough as it stood.

And Woo-jin, that bastard, had a face that matched his pitch-black heart.

“…”

Annoyingly, it sounded like Woo-jin might’ve been seeing his fuck buddies after dating Hayoon.

But I bit my tongue.

…Also, falling for someone just because they’re handsome seemed childish.

Maybe because I’d been with my childhood sweetheart so long, their relationship struck me as naive.

Again, I kept silent.

Instead:

“So that ‘chat’ in the hallway earlier—that was a secret rendezvous, huh?”

“I-I just saw him and greeted him casually…! Not a rendezvous…”

“Then why’d you tell me and Da-bin it was a thank-you for past counseling?”

“Okay, fine, that was an excuse…”

“But why reveal the relationship now? Did someone catch you?”

“Not caught, but… Lately, some girl was… bothering Woo-jin… So I thought it’d be better to just go public…!”

“Did you hear that? She called him ‘Woo-jin.’ That’s insane…”

“Doesn’t Hayoon always refer to guys with -ssi?”

“How far have you two gone? Kissing? Sex? Is he big? Skilled?”

“Ah, uh… well…”

Watching Hayoon flounder under the interrogation, I sighed in sympathy.

Overwhelmed, I stealthily retreated and pulled out my phone.

Staring at Woo-jin’s saved number, I fell into thought.

Now that Hayoon had spilled everything…

If I wanted to avoid seeing this relationship end in disaster…

…Maybe I should reform that perverted bastard.

With that uncomfortable thought gnawing at me—

“…We definitely didn’t touch.”

Alright, let’s backtrack.

The day I drank beer with Woo-jin, had deep conversation, and ended up fucking him senseless at his place—

Had we made contact since?

If memory served, no.

No further contact.

After railing me against his bathroom wall until I was numb, we cleaned up, shared orange juice, and parted.

At most, indirect contact—like him handing me a convenience store coffee or kimbap.

But that hadn’t caused any issues before.

That night, my lust had been thoroughly sated before we separated.

“……”

Yet now, days later—

Why did those memories keep resurfacing?

That night, sprawled like an animal on his damp sheets.

Pinned beneath that idiot, letting him fix my cravings.

Against the buzzing bathroom wall.

Why did those moments—

—keep clawing back into my mind?

Why?

Why—

“Haah…”

Fleeing to the girls’ restroom, I caught my breath.

Slowly lowering my panties, I gulped at the sticky strands stretching mid-thigh.

Not just one thin thread—several, glistening.

Had I been mindlessly rubbing myself in class, I’d understand.

But no.

No touching.

Just sitting through discussion, pretending to be normal…

until the heat threatened to spill over, forcing this desperate retreat.

Though not actively masturbating, the state of my panties told another story.

Swallowing hard, I tore off toilet paper and wiped myself clean.

Changing now was impossible, but I could at least prevent further mess.

“…Just why…”

At first, I thought it was heat—but the more I dwelled, the more it felt different.

Back then, only filthy acts could sate me.

Now, it was more like… a stubborn thirst.

Frustrating, but manageable.

True, memories of Woo-jin kept dragging my hands downward—

yet I could resist if I tried.

Far better than those helpless days where only a cock could pacify me.

…Maybe this was why gumiho were always caught lurking near motels.

But I brushed the thought aside.

They’re just perverts.

I’m not—

“……”

…Not.

But—

If it’s unavoidable—

If this cursed fox-tail is the culprit, not my body—

Then before things worsen—

Just—

a little—

“…Hah… ngh…”

Ears straining for footsteps, fingers plunged into soaked folds.

“Nnn…! Fuuh…!”

Even this light touch made my body sing.

Hips bucking uncontrollably, I slid forward until—

perched ridiculously on the toilet’s edge—

I stuffed my shirt hem into my mouth, muffling moans—

and rubbed my swollen clit raw.

How had that idiot touched me?

How had he made it feel so good?

I strained to recall every detail—

“…Ngh…! …Haah…!”

Truthfully, whispers in my ear would’ve been better.

Truthfully, being pinned down and pounded would’ve been better.

Truthfully—

Woo-jin—

All the way—

where his cum had flooded me last time—

Pound—

Pound—

—pounding me senseless—

That—

would’ve been—

so much—

better—

“…Kh…! …Ngh…!”

Desperate for sensation, I shoved two fingers inside—

drenching them in slick.

…Nothing could replicate the sound of flesh striking flesh—

but without something—

I’d break.

Tipping my head back, I fucked myself relentlessly—

until slick splattered the stall door—

drip—

drip—

drip—

Woo-jin’s well-trained hole taking everything—

silent restroom echoing with lewd wetness—

deeper—

harder—

—just—

a little—

more—

Woo-jin—

that idiot’s name—

chanted mentally—

like—

a lover—

“…Haah… hah… hah…”

About a minute later—

dazed, I spat out my crumpled shirt and gasped violently for air.

Ignoring the uniform crumpled on my chest, I noticed—

the stall door, once dry, now streaked with glossy streaks.

Had someone sprayed it with water?

…No.

Drips still trailed downward.

“…”

It’ll dry eventually.

Few used this restroom anyway.

Perhaps the post-orgasmic dopamine dulled my usual meticulousness, leaving me carefree as I wiped myself and pulled my panties up.

Slick dampness clung uncomfortably, but I’d endure—

just hold on until home—

“…”

…where I’d—

masturbate until sated—

then change.

That’d be fine.

Probably.

“…Hah…”

Staggering on trembling knees, I smoothed my uniform and slipped out—

hyper-aware of every sound.

…Since this isn’t true heat—

contacting Woo-jin can wait.

Only when it’s dangerous—

when I can’t handle it alone—

then I’ll call him.

Steeling myself—

I returned to the student council room.