Teacher, Is This Your First Time?

1

The male teachers’ lounge was located in the farthest corner of the first floor of the main building. In other words, it meant that few people would come here.

In the center of the lounge was a large sofa. The quite worn-out sofa, with its old synthetic leather cracked enough to reveal the white cotton threading beneath, resembled myself. Even down to being constantly sunken and compressed.

As I sat in that spot, which had become familiar by now, the door opened as if it had been waiting. Although it was the same sliding door I had opened with my own hands just moments ago, the sound of it opening was very gentle, unlike before.

“Teacher.”

I shut my eyes tightly. That child’s voice was like a snake crawling. Despite the warm blood that must be flowing, when that child touched me, it felt cool and made me shiver.

“Are you sick?”

The footsteps gradually approached me. The pressure of standing in front of me made it hard to breathe. Even though I couldn’t see anything with my eyes tightly closed.

Then a large palm covered my forehead. Along with the sound of the door opening, cold sweat that had begun to bead followed long fingers crossing my forehead and trickled down.

“Strange. You don’t have a fever.”

“…Not, sick.”

My voice, barely squeezed from my vocal cords, trembled. Even I could hear it.

Hmm. Though it was a very small sound, I could clearly feel the tail end of the word stretching with dissatisfaction. I knew it. That persisting like this would simply be stubbornness. With that thought, I barely opened my eyes, but couldn’t lift my head.

What filled my gradually widening field of vision was the most common outfit seen at school. Beneath the crisp navy pants without a single wrinkle were white sneakers. If I raised my gaze a little higher, a neat navy tie would be tied between a gray jacket.

Seongjin High School uniform. Though everyone wore the same uniform, to my eyes just one uniform stood out. The one right in front of me now.

While I wished the palm still enveloping my forehead would detach, I simultaneously wished it wouldn’t leave.

“If you had a fever, that would be strange.”

The gentle palm on my forehead transforming into rough fingers happened in an instant.

“I thrust into you yesterday down below, so why would there be heat up here?”

“……”

“Right?”

After rubbing down my spine, which had stiffened from intense tension, he put his hand inside my pants without a moment’s hesitation.

And headed straight for the still swollen hole. Very familiar and natural.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

The cold voice made me snap to attention and quickly lift my head. Unlike the sharp voice, I met eyes with upturned corners that curved gently at the ends. Looking into my eyes, he asked my hole. His finger demanding an answer circled around the tightly closed entrance. It wouldn’t have been strange if he had thrust all the way in at once.

“Yes, that’s right……”

I couldn’t say anything—not to remove his hand, nor that he was wrong.