Chapter 1 — The Art Academy Director, Her

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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This already happened over ten years ago.

Back then, I was a university student.

Amid the frantic job-hunting grind, I still wanted some leisure in life—so I looked around for a hobby, something in music or art.

At the time, there was this fairly popular show—I don’t even remember the name now—on educational television, where a hairy foreign man taught oil painting.

"Really easy, isn’t it~?"

His catchphrase even caught on briefly.

So my goal was set: learn oil painting.

But from the start, it wasn’t easy.

Going into the city to buy supplies? That I could manage. But how was I supposed to learn?

Then, by chance, I met a woman through an art club.

Her name? Emma Kim… maybe? I'm not sure. She seemed a couple of years older than me.

A little over 160 cm tall, maybe around 55 kg?

A typical middle-aged woman's build, and she looked a lot like that classic drama actress.

She was pure.

Whenever I asked about oil painting, she’d explain everything so kindly.

After a few conversations, and even fewer actual meetings with her—

Maybe the fourth time? While talking about art, she invited me to her place.

"Her place? What's she scheming…?"

Her place wasn't really a home—it was an academy.

Take the orange train heading west, and get off at the stop.

Inside her academy, one corner was curtained off.

That was her living space.

She'd come up from the countryside and couldn't afford a separate apartment,

so she'd set up a makeshift partition in a corner of the academy and lived there.

All the kids had gone home. Awkwardly, painfully, it was just the two of us left.

I sat sideways on her bed, watching TV.

She sat on a chair beside the bed, eyes also on the screen.

That strange feeling… it came over me then.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bed. She came without resistance.

Then came the intense skinship.

Then undressing.

She sat between my legs and licked me from balls to asshole, as gently as if painting with a brush.

I went down on her in a 69, then flipped her onto her back.

Her pussy, thick with hair, trembled as she gasped for breath.

Then the deep joining.

Her pussy felt a bit loose.

Wanting to enjoy myself fully, we both stayed naked and moved out past the curtain, to the students' desks.

I laid her on the desk and started piston-fucking her deeply.

Midway through, I glanced down during thrusting—and saw her asshole calling to me.

I rubbed my tip against it.

Strangely, it felt like it could take me.

"Can I put it in here?"

She didn't respond.

I flipped her onto her stomach, took her from behind, and used my fingers to probe her asshole.

She must've felt an intense pleasure—her ass cheeks trembled violently.

I flipped her back, and continued eating her ass.

surprisingly, it slipped in easily.

My first anal sex had begun like that.

After that, I often visited her academy.

I'd come early, close the gate, and freely feast on her pussy and asshole.

Then one day—

Same as always, I was pounding every hole she had.

After endless piston-fucking her ass, I suddenly noticed something strange.

She felt more pleasure in her ass than in her pussy.

During one long session of ass-eating,

I suddenly stopped eating her pussy, carried her out past the curtain into the classroom, laid her on the kids' desk, and fucked her pussy roughly.

She moaned wildly, excited.

But that wasn't all.

When I stopped fucking her ass for a while, then suddenly plunged deep into it again—only then did her eyes roll back and her pussy juice start dripping.

As I rotated her—left three times, right three times—a message came.

"I think I'm about to cum… what should I do?"

"Just cum. It's not like I can get pregnant anyway."

I emptied myself deeply into her ass, then pulled out—only to find yellow smears on the tip of my cock.

Damn soybean paste.

After that, I slowly distanced myself from her. Not sure why.

Still, I remember her as a kind person.

If I said I was hungry mid-sex, she'd make me ramen—completely naked.

In another way, I thought she was truly remarkable.

Having slept with men before marriage, even getting her ass broken in.

Still, she'd find a way to survive.

Like the title of some book—how a life was born.