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The time I met that person was when I was roped into working part-time at another school's cultural festival.
JC Club.
The reason I ended up helping out at a maid café with such a ridiculous name was because my annoyingly persistent friend Sarashina Mizuki kept pestering me about it—and because I wanted a little extra spending money for our school trip a month later.
Ever since being scouted on the street in sixth grade, I've been working as a reader model.
When people hear "model," they tend to treat you like a celebrity, but unlike exclusive magazine models, it's really just a part-time gig. I do get more pocket money than the average middle schooler, but if I splurge on clothes and accessories, it's gone in no time.
Even so, I'm aware that I'm a little different from those around me.
I do put effort into maintaining my proportions, but I think my natural build is better than average, and my features are fairly well-balanced, too.
I hadn't realized it before being scouted, but when photographers and reporters shower you with compliments every day, it's hard not to develop a bit of an ego.
In that context, the JC Club maid café was nothing short of shocking to me.
Every single maid working there was cute.
Sure, there were a few ordinary girls mixed in to fill out the numbers, but first and foremost, Mizuki herself—the manager—was adorable.
She's an eccentric who lives in her track suit and has the fatal flaw of a tan, but I've tried to recruit her for modeling work multiple times.
Fundamentally, Mizuki is cute.
Her features are refined, and her figure is great—if she were in a magazine, she'd be really popular.
But she doesn't seem interested in that kind of thing, spending her time chasing boys and researching erotic techniques instead.
But I digress.
Moving on to the maids at JC Club, there was actually someone even cuter than Mizuki.
First, there was a French girl Mizuki brought in from the next class over.
Anna, a white girl with a name like that, was an overwhelmingly beautiful girl who looked like she'd stepped right out of a picture book.
Of course, as a white girl, she had fair skin, naturally blonde hair, and blue eyes—her figure was so good it made me, a reader model, want to turn on my heel and leave. It was enough to make me regret being born Asian.
Seriously, her boobs were way too big. What cup size even is that, French people?
And then there was another beauty on par with Anna.
That would be Kutsuki Aika.
Long, flowing black hair, doll-like features, skin almost as fair as a white girl's, and a figure just as stunning as the French girl's. An air of solitude that gave her a unique presence.
Losing to a beautiful white girl was excusable—after all, she was white.
I could console myself with the fact that I was Japanese, so of course I'd lose.
But Kutsuki Aika was undeniably a Japanese girl.
And yet, her looks were every bit as stunning as that French girl's. What even was that?
Compared to them, the praise I'd gotten felt downright silly.
Honestly, even professional models aren't as cute as those two.
With a top-tier duo like that, it was no wonder JC Club was so popular.
It was the first time I'd ever been in an environment where I felt completely overshadowed.
I don't think of myself as ordinary, but it hammered home the fact that, at the end of the day, I'm just a normal person.
To put it bluntly, it was a shock.
But there was an encounter there that easily blew that shock away.
"Hey, isn't that guy handsome?"
The person I pointed at was a man in his late twenties, dressed in a suit.
Maybe he had much younger siblings? It seemed like he'd come to check out the festival during his lunch break.
To put it simply, it was love at first sight.
My maiden radar, which hadn't so much as twitched when tall, handsome magazine models hit on me, miraculously reacted to him alone.
"Huh? That old guy?"
Mizuki seemed genuinely surprised by my comment.
I was aware—my taste in men rarely aligned with others', and the usual reaction was "Why him?"
But in his case, I didn't think he was that unusual.
His features were undeniably well-balanced, he had a refreshing aura, and his vibe was like that of a kind older brother.
If a guy like that escorted me somewhere, I'd probably follow him anywhere.
"He's not an old guy. He's clearly an older brother, right?"
I protested Mizuki's use of "old guy."
He was obviously in his twenties. Calling a man in his twenties an "old guy" was just rude.
"That guy's 35 this year, you know?"
My eyes widened at Mizuki's explanation. He's in his mid-thirties?! He looks 26 at most!
"Oh, and also? He's Aika's dad."
At those words, I think I experienced the most stunned moment of my life.
A guy that young and handsome has a daughter my age?!
"...Then his wife must be really beautiful, huh."
Just looking at Kutsuki Aika made it obvious. Her mother had to be a stunning beauty. There was no other way someone with such cheat-level looks could exist.
"Nah, he's single. He's not even Aika's real dad—he took her in for some reason."
I was even more stunned. A single man taking in a middle school girl? What kind of circumstances led to that?
And is that even okay? If I were his daughter, I don't think I could stay calm at all.
"Ayaka, you're old guy, huh?"
Mizuki sidled up to me with a smirk. Hypocrite. You're a total man-chaser yourself.
"...Not really. I just thought he looked cool."
I desperately tried to play it cool, but part of me wanted Mizuki to introduce us.
Even if he had a daughter my age, being single meant there was no issue.
There had to be plenty of ways for me to get closer to him.
"Then I'll show you. The old guy's true nature."
---
"What the hell is this supposed to be?"
For some reason, I'd been stuffed inside a vaulting box in the P.E. storage shed.
This was my first time ever being in such a dusty place.
"Relax, relax. Just wait here, and you'll see something interesting."
That was the same expression Mizuki always made when she'd thought of a prank.
I'd been tricked by this tomboyish girl more times than I could count.
Still, if putting up with the dust meant getting closer to him, it might be worth it.
For a middle schooler like me, getting close to an adult man required help from someone connected to him. Since I didn't see Mizuki all the time, this festival was the perfect opportunity.
But I—
—would come to deeply regret that choice.
"Where do you think you are…? Ugh… This is a school…"
(What… is this…?)
What unfolded before my eyes was him being toyed with—his nipples and thing teased by Mizuki in her maid outfit.
Honestly, I couldn't process what I was seeing.
I knew Mizuki was into guys.
But he was an adult. And more importantly, he was the father of Mizuki's classmate, Kutsuki Aika—the refreshingly handsome guy in a suit.
"You say that, but you're totally hard, old man?"
Yet, just as Mizuki said, his thing was fully erect, straining against his clothes.
(Wait, this is the first time I've seen a penis other than my dad's… but does it really get that big when a guy's turned on?)
It was at least twice as big as my dad's usual size, and the normally limp thing was standing almost straight up, looking incredibly stiff, with the foreskin pulled back to reveal the swollen tip.
(Is that… a man's penis?)
At 14 years old, I was still a virgin.
Some of my modeling friends had lost theirs in seventh grade, but I'd planned to save myself for someone I could truly commit to.
For a kid like me, the sight of an engorged male organ was beyond shocking.
It was so much more animalistic than I'd imagined—so male. It didn't even look like a "thing" anymore, but a proper penis.
I know that doesn't make sense, but it felt less like a "dick" and more like a reproductive organ.
I'd seen horses mating at a ranch once, and this was the human version. It was barely any different from an animal.
"You totally wanted to fuck all our maids, didn't you? They're all cute, right? And they're all D-cups or bigger."
As hard as it was to believe, it seemed he'd been lusting after middle school girls. The idea of an adult getting turned on by kids disgusted me—but right now, with Mizuki touching him, he was fully erect.
"Ahh—! You're so big! I'm still in middle school, but I'm already dripping—!"
Mizuki's fantasy mode had activated.
Her hobby was imagining different men and pleasuring herself to them.
I couldn't even fathom it, but apparently, there were girls out there who got off on that kind of thing.
"Ahh, I'm gonna cum! Ayaka's gonna cum from your huge adult cock!"
My heart nearly stopped at those words.
Why did my name come up?! It's like she was implying I was the one being fucked by him!
Then Mizuki pulled out something called an "onahole" and named it "Ayaka." A second-year at Saginomiya Middle School, with semi-long black hair, D-cups, and a virgin—that was undeniably me.
"Ahh, old man! Nooo!"
Fully embodying me, Mizuki started moaning obscenely.
The onahole was now fully sheathed around his length. Apparently, an onahole was a toy modeled after a girl's down there, used by men for masturbation.
"Old man… I'm a virgin… So please, go slow when you put it in…?"
Mizuki, still pretending to be me, was enjoying simulated sex with him. I've never made noises like that, and I've never even had sex!
But for some reason…
If I were in that situation, I had a feeling I'd say the exact same things.
"Ahh… your penis… it's so hard…"
I'd never actually touched one, but his penis looked incredibly stiff.
If something like that were pushed inside me… what would even happen to me?
"Ahh… men are amazing… To think they have something this powerful… Please, old man. I won't tell Aika, I won't tell the teachers… Just take my first time with this penis…"
The image of me—naked, every shameful part exposed, begging him—flashed in my mind.
And before I knew it, inside the vaulting box, I'd spread my legs wide.
"Ahhn…!!"
And then, in my mind, his penis tore through my hymen.
Even though it was all just a mental simulation, I swear I felt the pain of losing my virginity.
"I can feel it… your powerful part… gently kissing the entrance to my special room…"
"The entrance to my special room"—she must've meant my cervix.
I'd never even seen that part of myself, but right now, the tip of his penis was kissing my cervix.
"So this is sex… The act of making a baby with you…"
"Mmm—"
Mizuki tangled her tongue with his.
Unconsciously, inside the box, my own tongue moved.
While accepting his penis inside me, my mouth was being violated just as fiercely.
"You're amazing…! Even though I was a virgin, your cock feels so good…!"
Before I realized it, I was frantically touching myself.
Even though I was alone, it felt so good.
"Ahh! Ayaka's gonna cum! Even though it's my first time, your huge penis is making me cum!!"
In my mind, I was riding him wildly.
Straddling him, my hair and breasts swaying violently, my entire body and soul being violated by his penis.
"Ahh! I'm—! Cumming!!"
"Me too, Ayaka-chan! I'm gonna cum inside you! Ahh!"
Imaginary semen flooded my womb.
The moment it happened, an electric shock-like pleasure wracked my entire body.
I could feel my soaked panties and gym clothes trembling beneath me.
Pinching my nipples through my bra, I arched my back and experienced my first-ever climax.
Who'd have thought a vaulting box would be where I'd have my first orgasm?
"Did it feel good? Old man."
Through my dazed consciousness, I could hear Mizuki and him talking.
They seemed to be exchanging pillow talk, but I was too shocked by what I'd just done to move.
"By the way, old man… How was Ayaka's virgin pussy?"
Those words made my face burn.
He'd been masturbating to the thought of me.
"That's not important. Answer me. Do you want to have raw sex with Ayaka again?"
Raw sex.
Sex without condoms or protection—the kind where pregnancy was a real risk.
I'd just had imaginary raw sex with him.
"I'd want to do it with the real Ayaka -chan, but not with an onahole. I'm never doing that humiliating play again."
—"I'd want to do it with the real Ayaka -chan."
That single line sent heat rushing through my entire body.
He actually wanted to have raw sex with me.
That I could experience that pleasure again—with his real penis this time.
"Hey, Ayaka ."
When Mizuki called my name, I practically leaped out of the vaulting box.
Honestly, my mind was in complete chaos.
The idea that he wanted to have sex with me—I'd never even considered it.
"I'm disgusted."
The moment I spoke, I glared at him.
I wasn't actually disgusted.
I just didn't want him to see my soaked panties and gym clothes.
"I'll… I'll never forgive you! Or your huge, disgusting penis!"
After spouting a bunch of nonsense in my confused state, I bolted out of the P.E. shed.
Honestly, I'd reached my limit.
Between seeing another man's penis for the first time, being violated by him in my mind, and experiencing my first climax, my brain had completely short-circuited.
In the end, I skipped the rest of my shift and jumped on the train home.
Even now, my body still feels feverish.
I can still feel that part throbbing.
Today, I had sex with him.
It was all in my imagination—just masturbation, really—but that fact was seared into my mind, lingering relentlessly.