The English language student, part 2 – his view [M/F][noncon]

*Her view can be found [here](https://old.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/svoxmv/the_english_language_student_part_2_her_view/)*

—–

He had to admit, hosting a foreign language student was the best decision he’d ever made.

After the [first night](https://old.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/seas7o/the_englishlanguage_student_mf_noncon/) spent with their student, he’d spent the next week worried, avoiding her. Dinner those nights were awkward, with their student avoiding their eye and talking very little during the meal, retreating to her room as soon as she had finished eating. Waited for his wife, Anna, to come screaming into their house accusing him of sleeping with their student, demanding to know what happened, telling them that she’d told Anna *everything*, that it was all his fault.

But that didn’t happen. She said nothing, and coupled with the sidelong glances she would give him when they passed in the hall or met in the kitchen told him that not only was she not angry, but she wanted him, in fact, to visit her again.

And so, after a week and a half when Anna went out to visit her garden, he went to visit their student again. She was at her desk, studying English, and the way she straightened when she heard the door close told him that she was expecting him. He came up behind her and hugged her, rubbing her nipples through her thin nightshirt. She stood up, saying she needed to use the washroom, but he put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her from leaving,and assured her that she could shower later that night. He’d heard her peeing through the washroom door a few minutes earlier so he knew that wasn’t what she wanted, and felt a bit flattered that she wanted him enough to be as clean as possible for him. *So* flattered, in fact that – a bit rougher than – intended, pulled her nightshirt off of her, and almost in the same movement her panties down to the floor. He was excited, and knew she felt the same.
He paused for a second, looking at her. The deep cream color of her skin, the gentle pink of her nipples, the short, thick thatch of hair at her waist. All at once unable to wait, he grinned to himself and pulled her over to her bed, pushed her down on to it. While she adjusted herself, half rising to move to a better position, he removed his own shorts and pushed her back down onto her bed, laying down between her legs. She pulled at his shoulders, trying to move him, and he lay down closer to her in response. He tried to put himself inside her, but she was dry, dry…of course she was, he’d moved too fast. What kind of jerk was he?
Gently, carefully, he rubbed the tip of himself along her slit, along her clit, until he felt the beginning of her wet. Carefully, gently, eased himself inside, a half-inch at a time, stopping each time he felt her draw away, waiting for her to relax as she took him bit by bit until he was deep in her as he could go, delighting in the feeling of her snug around him, *different* from that of his wife; not as wet, certainly warmer. She moved under him and he began to stroke, slow at first, then faster, harder as he *knew* she liked, stroking her hair as he did, licking each nipple, her head moving up and down along her pillow with each stroke. He felt himself getting close, and she turned her head and murmured something in his ear, in her native language asking him to hurry, the liquid trill of Korean thrilling him throughout until, with a grunt, he came in her, holding himself in place to indulge in the wet warmth that was her until he went soft and slipped out, a trickle of fluid following, to drip down onto her bed. Kissed her gently on the nose good night, then left her to her shower.

After that night, the sound of the Anna heading to her garden was an invitation that never needed repeating.

The next time he visited her, he found her lying on her stomach on her bed, studying her textbook. She resisted his wanting to turn her over, so if that was what she wanted that night, that was fine with him. He might prefer it on her back, but he wasn’t a *selfish* lover, after all. He stripped off his shorts, lifted her nightshirt up to her back, pulled her panties down and off. Sat beside her while she focused on her studies, ran a finger along her between her thighs, giving special attention to the button at the top until he felt her start to get wet, then ran one finger, two, up in her, fingered her for a minute until she shifted her bottom to let him know she was ready. He licked his finger clean, then climbed into bed with her, pushing her thighs apart with his knees, pushing one foot onto the floor. Slid up and into her a bit at a time…tense, relax…then lay his weight on top of her as he had her, relishing the new feel of her from this angle, the way the head of his penis scraped along her. He buried his face in her hair, telling her how wonderful she felt, how soft she was, how lovely between her legs, how much he enjoyed making love with her. She said nothing back, which was all right; he knew how little English she had still.
Came. Took pleasure in the rush of heat and wetness that was her coming along with him. Kissed her back, between her shoulders. Left.
He liked the feel of her *so* much from behind that for the next few nights, he’d pull her up onto her knees and enter her from behind, one hand gripping her shoulder and the other twisted in her ponytail, with each thrust forward pulling her back – hard – *against* him, her every grunt and cry of pleasure with every pull of her hair making the act all the better. And each time he came he’d pull out, shoot up the length of her back, her hair. Couldn’t be too careful, after all; he didn’t want to get her pregnant.

And for the next few weeks, that was his life. Dinner, a bit of TV, then while Anna was working in their garden, he was working in their student. It was clear she loved it; after the first few weeks she would spread her legs for him at the sound of the door closing, so if he so chose he could have sex with her while she studied on her bed. If he wanted, she’d rise to her knees and let him do her that way. or let him roll her on to her back and have her *that* way. Or she would have him sit on her chair and she would climb on him, fucking him reverse cowboy, moving along him while she wrote and studied.
He learned that she would rather have him to come inside of her; the one time he came in her mouth it, well…it didn’t go well. As nice a guy as he was he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to. No, instead he’d come in her again and again letting her know each time he did so she would also come, and he knew she did; she’d always jerk away a bit when he would whisper yet again that he came inside of her, as she would come in the silent way she did. Let her hold there him when he’d finish, snug and close around his member, welcoming, possessive, seeming not to want to release him, to stay close around him until he was too soft to stay in place. Her lips pulled at him when we would slide out;he could *feel* them do so. Sometimes, thoughtful as he was, he’d go to touch her afterwards, but she’d always push him away and tell him it wasn’t necessary, that she was already done, that he needed to leave. Always good advice; Anna could return at any time.

He had to admit that for the first couple of weeks he’d been worried about the way that she liked the feel of him inside of her after he came. He worried about her getting pregnant, and debated with himself about buying condoms. In the end, though, he decided that after four weeks and no period that she must be on birth control and *that* was why she liked having him come in her. In fact, he told himself, it was more than likely she had planned this from the start, while she was still in Korean. After all, why else come to the States on birth control in the first place?

By the second month, he began to see that an American diet was a bit much for her; her breasts were just a bit larger to his mouth, a bit more sensitive to his touch. His head between her thighs she tasted different, almost sweeter as he ran his tongue along her and up in her. She stopped tensing when he would first enter her, instead sliding down along him when he would pull her on top, at *just* the right angle as she moved on top of him, biting her lip and ducking her head when he would push up the full length of himself on occasion, holding her close to him as he came, her breasts soft against his chest. Her breath hot and heavy against his ear under him. Eager, so eager, already naked and waiting for him when he entered her room, already wet and waiting for him when he entered her.
Sometimes, she’d suck him instead, his hands at the back of her head, waist thrusting at her mouth. She wouldn’t let him come in her mouth – not after that first time – so instead he’d come on her breasts, smearing it with his thumbs along her nipples, under the curve of them, letting her lick them clean, or he’d come in her hair, joking that it made her hair softer than any shampoo ever could. But those times were rare…mostly he had *her*, in every way he could. He discovered he liked to tangle his hands in her hair while he fucked her, pulling her head back when taking her from behind and down when from the front, and she never told him no. She denied him almost nothing; he respected her few limits.

By the third month, a few weeks before she was due to take up residence at the university, he was *certain* that she was eating too much; she was getting a bit of a belly and her breasts *were* bigger, and so sensitive she would gasp and shiver in delight when he ran his tongue along the nipples, flicking them in time with the thrusts between her legs. She was softer and wetter than ever before, and now, on occasion her orgasms weren’t as silent as before, a feline yawl midway through the act. Embarrassing for her, as she’d let loose a few tears when she did, and he did his best to reassure her that it was all right, it was nothing to be ashamed of, how much he loved to *hear* her when she came, encouraged her to be more open. Outside of those rare times, though, she never did. He figured it was cultural, and he respected that.

On their last night together, he decided on a surprise for her. They took her out for dinner at a Korean restaurant they’d heard was quite good, then gave her some gifts to remember their homestay family by. They watched TV together for a bit, then Anna told their student she was going to visit her friend for a few hours, but would be back in time to wish Mi-yong good night. That was perfect; earlier before dinner he’d popped a Viagra. Tonight was going to be extra special for their student.
They waved at Anna as she left the TV room, almost before they’d heard the door close he had taken her by the hand and brought her into the washroom. She resisted at first, telling him that she needed to pack and make sure her room was clean but he brought her in anyway, reassuring her that she had plenty of time to pack tomorrow, that Anna would clean her room for her, she had no worries on that score. Still listening to her protests, he closed and locked the bathroom door. Stripped off his clothes. Ran the water in the shower. Kissed her still protesting lips and carefully peeled off her clothing as well. Then brought her into the shower with him.
Gently, lovingly, he washed her body, laughing at her reaction when he went to slide the bar of soap up between her legs, joking that she needed to be clean inside *and* out. Handed her a towel, then brought her, not to *her* room but to his, to lay her down on their queen-size bed, to mingle the smell of their student with that of Anna. He kissed her the length of her body, up her knees, along her thighs, up to place special attention to the unique flavor of her slit before moving up her belly, her breasts, to kiss her lips, lick her tongue for her to also enjoy the taste of herself, to slide *up* and *in*, their bellies hot and sticky together in the heat, her vagina hot and *oh* so slick.
After a few minutes, he felt the shift of her waist that signalled her coming, and he came as well. He held in place, and she waited for him to slide out, and opened her eyes to look at him quizzically when he stayed hard.
“I took a special pill,” he told her, at her look. “We can do it many times tonight.”
A look of alarm flit across her face. “No, no, it OK, I *done*, no need–” she said, but stopped when he began to move within her again.
“It’s OK,” he said softly, in her ear, ” this is the last chance we might get, I want it to be special for you.”
“No, special already, don’t have to–” she began again, but he continued to move in and out of her, and her voice faded into the background as he relished the feel of her, the extra wetness he could feel despite her objections. When her protests were cut off by a sharp *gasp* and a bite of her lip, he knew he’d made the right call tonight.
He rocked within her for another few minutes before slipping out and rolling onto his back. Pulling her across onto him, he slid back into her and moved her hips alongside for a minute, until she found the rhythm and began to move of her own accord, faster, faster, her hands on his chest, her hair loose across her face, her heavy breasts swaying with the rhythm. Once again that grunt of joy, that spasm felt oh-so-rarely as she tensed up down there, squeezing his member *hard*, trapping him inside of her for just a moment, he knowing how much she loved the feel of him inside of her, filling her, and he gave her that gift, as a sweet memory for her.
He let her rest for another minute, then rolled her back onto the bed and was again up and in her before she could catch her breath. This time was for him, and he pounded at her as hard as he dared, twining her hair in his fist and yanking her head first this way, then that, as he knew *she* knew he’d like to do as her last gift to him. Harder, *harder*, almost *bruising* he thrust, until he again came, hard, *hard*, filling her as full as she’d even been, holding it in place to keep it there, so that she’d have him as intimately close to her as he could be all night. The two of them sweating in the heat, the wet patch on the sheets already drying in the evening air, he lay beside her, holding her close as long as he could before letting her return to her room.

The next morning, he gave her a friendly hug and thanked her staying with them, telling her that he’d learned quite a lot about Korea and Korean people in her time with them. He extended an invitation for her to come visit anytime, and hoped that she would. She nodded at him, picked up her suitcase, and in the morning’s light left for her new home.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/svouyo/the_english_language_student_part_2_his_view