*His view can be found [here](https://old.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/svouyo/the_english_language_student_part_2_his_view/)*
—–
She had to admit, becoming a hosted language student was the worst decision she’d ever made.
For a week and a half [afterwards](https://old.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/sfuaxb/the_english_language_student_her_view_mfnoncon/), Mi-yong could almost pretend things had gone back to normal. She’d put in her request to move to the student residence at the university, and was told that there was a room available for her at the start of the next semester. She could keep it together…she just needed to keep her head down and stay focused on her studies until then.
She spent her nights burrowed in English, and was so deep in past-tense verbs that she didn’t hear her door open, wasn’t aware he was back until she heard the sound of her door close. She stiffened in dismay; she had thought he might return but had truly hoped that he would not. Maybe he just had a question? But no, when he came up behind her and grabbed her breasts that told her everything she needed to know. *No,* she told herself, *not this time.* She pushed his arms away, stood and told him she needed the bathroom; when she left her room she would find her homestay mother and tell her everything, and to hell with the consequences. It would cause a lot of trouble for her at school and back home, but she was *not* going to go through this again.
Or so she planned. At her first step, though, he grabbed her shoulders, prevented her from leaving. Before she could decide what to do next, he roughly stripped her naked and pushed her down onto her bed. Tossed her nightshirt under her desk, put her panties in his pocket. She moved to get up while he stripped off his shorts, but too slowly; before she could do more than sit up he roughly pushed her back down, lay heavily on her, between her legs. She pushed at his shoulders, trying to move him while she sorted through the little English she knew to tell him to leave, but froze at the touch of him at her slit, looking to get in. She felt him probing, felt the pressure at her entrance, trying to *force* his way in, and she struggled ineffectually under the heavy weight of him while he ran his *eumgyeong* along her slit like a thief looking to break in, discomfort, almost pain, at every jab and poke.
Almost in self-defence she felt herself wetten slightly to relieve the sting, and instantly the tip of him was inside of her. Reflexively she drew back, as did he, but his next thrust pushed him inside of her a little deeper, and a little deeper *still*, until at last she could feel him fully within her again, hot and thick.
He began to stroke, in and out, and she debated whether to scream. Lost her chance when his mouth came down on hers, his tongue pushing inside it, him holding her head close against his shoulder, muffling her voice; all she could think to do now was to hurry him along and get him out; out of *her*, out of her room. One thing, though…he could not come inside of her, not again. She struggled to find the English to tell him that, and until she could told him again and again in Korean, “*Annae sajeong, naneun imsinhago sipji anhda…don’t come in me, I don’t want to get pregnant.*”
No sooner had she spoken, though, she felt that hot rush of wetness that told her that he had, and again, like last time he stayed there until he could no longer stay within her, at which point he rose, dressed, and left her alone. After he had left, she wiped herself down the best she could.
She was trapped, now. After *one* time, she could have told her host mother what had happened and expected to be believed, but sex with her husband *twice*? No, Anna would think that she had seduced James, and he would agree with her, agree that it was all Mi-yong’s fault! All she could do now, she thought, was lock her door and wait until next semester. Or so she thought…until she discovered her lock had been removed.
The next night, he came to her again. When he tried to turn her over onto her back she resisted, hoping that defiance would discourage him. No such luck. Instead he stripped off her panties, took her from behind, again she got wet more in self-defence than arousal as he again forced his way in. This time, thankfully, rather than come in her he shot over her back, hot and sticky against her skin. A small comfort, even after he used her panties to wipe her clean and leave them on her floor. And every night after that, he would come to her room, pulling her to her knees, taking her from behind like an animal, *treating* her like an animal, twisting her hair in his hand to pull her head back at every thrust, like a jolt from a jackhammer, hard and hurtful, her cries of pain spurring him on. But at least each time coming on her back, in her hair, on her sheets, her pillows, her legs, in an effort, she thought, to avoid getting her pregnant.
But by then, she knew it didn’t matter.
It had been more than three weeks since that first night, and almost five since her last period. Lately, shortly after waking, she had started to feel sleepy, a sort of sleepiness that strong tea didn’t seem to touch. She had been given a pregnancy test as part of the university’s welcome package, and late one night she wept in the bathroom at the sight of that bright blue line in the result window.
The next week was spent in shock; she went through the motions of a normal day but was almost oblivious to everything around her. She watched her professors but heard not a word they said or saw a thing they wrote on the chalkboard. She would study the same page in her textbook for an hour and never turn the page. And when James came to her room at night she was almost heedless to his demands. On her knees, on her back, on her belly, what did it matter now? She barely noticed him grunting away between her legs, his tongue twisting wormlike up her *boji*, every thrust, the feel of him in her, hot and thick. Indifferent, without active reluctance she’d get wet almost as soon as she heard her door close, felt his *eumgyeong* at her gate. She could distantly feel his increased exhilaration at what he believed was her newfound enthusiasm and made the most of it, asking for more and more and getting it. She sat on his face. She took his finger along with his penis while on her knees. He came inside of her again and again and delighted in the way he could get almost all of it to stay there when he withdrew, sometimes stuffing her panties in afterwards to keep it from dripping out, and she let him do all of that. Sure. Why not?
She couldn’t stay passive forever, though. After that week, she decided to make plans. She made a discreet appointment at a discreet private clinic for the day she left their house. Ensured her room at the university was confirmed. Started making quiet inquires about people looking for roommates.
As time went by, she got sleepier and more lethargic. Her nipples and clitoris began to get darker, more sensitive. To her surprise and shame it began to feel *good* what he was doing to her, the length and the thickness of him causing a distant shiver when he would first enter her. How she began to feel wet at the sound of the door closing more in anticipation than protection. She found that by dipping her waist slightly he would scrape along *just* the right spot that felt oh-so-good. How she found it feel better with her on top than underneath, where she could control the motion and the speed. She rationalized it that if it was going to happen then she may as well enjoy it. By then, she certainly didn’t try and stop him much any more.
Some things, she refused to do. For a brief period early on, she had hoped that by sucking him off she could avoid anything else, but the first time she tried to swallow his come the taste of it…she barely made it to the trash can. She couldn’t make herself do it again, and accepted come in her hair (impossible to clean) or all over her body (easier) as a compromise. Yet after a week of that, though, he got bored with the blowjobs and went back to taking her in bed. He liked to lick her and that she didn’t mind as much, praising her taste while knuckle- and -tongue-deep. One finger, two fingers, three…though the one time he tried to fit his entire hand in her…what he called “fisting”…all five fingers was uncomfortable for her and his hand beyond that was *painful*. She begged him not to try and finally couldn’t control her cries of pain as he continued to try to work his hand in. Her pained groans finally caught the attention of Anna,and he had to leave Mi-yong’s quickly before she came in. And it was two days of his *eumgyeong* in her mouth before she was recovered enough to take him down there again.
Towards the end of the second month they had almost settled into a routine; each night she’d lay on her bed with her textbooks or sit in her chair doing homework, wearing only a T-shirt and no panties. Upon hearing the door open she’d spread her legs and he’d do with her what he wanted; sometimes sex with her on her belly while she studied, other times he’d roll her on her back and take her that way. Sometimes he’d pull her on top of him and have Mi-yong take him in her hand and put him in her herself, guiding him up and into her, enjoying the knowledge that she was doing it of her own volition. She would not admit it, not even to herself, but she preferred moving on top of him, as it allowed her to not only please *him* but allowed her to please *herself*, her special spot scratched and rubbed along his belly and his hair down there. Hating herself for how good it felt good now, how her body responded to the feel of him inside of her, how she had grown to like and even expect that feeling of fullness that he gave her, that feeling of heat. Felt betrayed by the orgasms she would experience more and more frequently, wishing him to die a thousand deaths all while her body invited him in, wrapped itself around him and held him close, her own hips moved in time with his, her breath hot on his neck, ankles around his legs. That shudder and rush of wetness as *she* came, unnoticed by him in the pursuit of his own pleasure.
Throughout the last month, her breasts grew more tender, her *boji* more sensitive, attracting more of his attention, spending more and more time with his head between her legs, lapping at her, his tongue darting around her citoris, every touch a spark down her legs and up her belly. She felt the most pleasure then, biting her lip to keep silent so as not to let him know how good it felt, her hands in his hair, struggling between her mind pushing him away and her body pulling him in ever tighter. Though she never got used to him kissing her afterwards, using his tongue to fuck her mouth while he used his penis to fuck her *boji*, panting how much she must also love the taste of herself.
At last, the last night. She was so excited to be moving out, she barely noticed dinner or the TV show afterwards. Even Anna leaving for the evening meant nothing; one last fuck and she was *free*! She’d do her best to get him off as quickly as she could, make it as intense as she could so he would leave her be for the rest of the evening. She began to run through her internal catalogue to decide what would make him come fastest yet leave him most satisfied, and began to get a bit uneasy when instead of leading her to her bedroom, he brought her into the bathroom. She tried to make excuses, *this* wasn’t part of her plan, but he ignored her protests, pushed her into the shower.
She let him run the shower head along her body, let him run it between her legs. Stayed silent even as she adjusted her waist to let the water hit her in the right spot, ignored his smile when he noticed her doing so. Let him rub soap along her body, her breasts, between her legs, but got angry when he tried to push the bar up and inside of her. Stayed angry when he told her it was just a joke.
After she was wrapped in her towel Mi-yong moved towards her room but again, he took her hand and this time led her upstairs, to *his* room. It was the first time she’d ever seen it, and was confused and ashamed at the arousal she felt at the faint smell of Anna rising from the sheets as she was laid down on the bed. As he ran his tongue along her freshly-scrubbed body she breathed in deep the smell. At the first feel of him sliding into her, bringing her knees up to help him, pressing her waist down against the mattress to get that sensation of him scraping along her clitoris and the top of her vagina, a little shiver and gasp escaped her, and involuntarily she bit his ear and dug her nails into his shoulder. As her hand fell away, she felt him come, hot and loose, and waited for the feeling of him flopping out for the very last time.
Instead, she felt him stay hard, and asked the silent question, “What’s happening?”
“It’s OK,” he told her. “I took medicine. I stay hard, for you.” Alarmed, she tried to tell him she was done, she *came*, it was so good, *he* was so good but she was sleepy now but still didn’t have the English to put all that into words, and even if she had he ignored her to pull out of her and pull him over onto him. Hen roughly guided himself into her, and her objections cut off at the *feel* of the tip of him run along her, began to rock her hips back and forth, ignoring the man, lost in the feeling of him in and out, the sensation of him sliding alongside of her, the ridge of the head scraping, *scraping* that spot, that *one* spot…and *again* that involuntary loss of control as she came, came *hard* and *squeezed* him down there while electricity ran along her, making her shudder, her breasts shake against his nose, his lips, his tongue.
Once again he rolled her onto her back, took her again, but this time he was rough, rough, his hands twisted in her hair, pulling her head *too* hard, where she feared she’d start losing hair. Back and forth in time with his hips, how letting her rest, now using both hands tangled in her long hair pulling *down* towards her feet as he thrust *up*. Now a nip of her nipple – careful, tender! – now a finger between her legs, two, one on either side of his penis, pushing within in time with his hips. Then again her hair, the smell of her *boji* from his hand sharp against her nose. And again, once, twice, *hard* inside, grinding against her pubic bone, *grinding* bruising as he strived to enter her as far as he could reach…and again, that rush of heat and stickiness from between her legs.
he rolled of of her then, panting, breath heaving, and he held her close to him in the heat of the night before finally letting her walk, bruised between her legs and sore along her scalp, back to her room to get what sleep she could before the next day.
the next morning, suitcase at her side, she bid farewell to her homestay parents. She gave Anna a quick hug, and received a small gift of loose leaf tea as a farewell. From James she received a hug as well, and an invitation to come visit anytime she chose, with a quick tongue in her ear and a squeeze of her bottom when Anna couldn’t see it. She nodded and agreed to come as soon as she could.
As soon as the door closed behind her, she resolved to forget even the memory of the address.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/svoxmv/the_english_language_student_part_2_her_view