Back Room

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            But before the jubilation could continue…

            Even at this distance… even under this commotion… the nerve-wracked Senpai could hear the steady, measured footsteps of encroaching severity.  The levity of the mood – even if at his expense – evaporated.  Wiping at his face with his sleeve, he jumped to his feet, wheeling to the four girls with a stare of panic.  He was rarely so actively intense; not even angry.  Nagatoro sensed his anxiety and empathized on reflex, but Gamo had room for a glib remark.  “Uh-oh, he looks like he’s ready to pounce and lose his virginity.”

            “Please!” he exclaimed, ending the mockery as he bowed his head imploringly.  “S-Stay in here for a little while!  I’ll-I’ll explain afterward!”  Already, he was making for the exit in a hurry.

            Even if he was unnerved, the girls weren’t going to suddenly listen to whatever he said without explanation.  They ambled after him in slower strides, muttering now how the room smelled and was musty; they didn’t clamber past him, though, and bunched up at the doorway instead to await at least some reason.

            He was too anxious to elaborate, and instead begged them again.  Nagatoro leered and wagged a finger at him.  “Is that how it is?  You want to keep us locked up and then keep eating our butts later, is that it?  Naughty-naughty Senpai~”

            “That’s not it!” he exclaimed with a hard blush.  “I’ll let you back out, but…!  Just for now!”

            Nagatoro’s smile lessened to a reasonable frown, eyes upon him until the last second when the door closed…

            And the art room’s door slid open.

            There was a heavy silence as he swung to the opened doorway, standing awkward and straight, tense and sweaty all over.  His lips pursed together, hazel eyes retracted to fearful points as he beheld the strict, beautiful, buxom Art Club President.

            She stood there in her curvaceous glory, cinnamon-red eyes surveying him.  Not a twitch on her.  Not a hint of hesitation, though she was entirely still, like she was waiting for time to resume on its own.

            “P-President,” Senpai got out weakly.  He felt moisture running down his temple and the back of his neck.  Unlike her, he was constantly moving; trying to stay composed, but the shaking from toes to bangs just would not cease!  “What are you doing here?”

            Finally, the President reacted, head lifting just slightly like she was displaced from deep thought by an idle noise.  Her composure remained intact.  “Is it unreasonable for the president of a club to check on the club itself?”  She strode in, closing the door behind her.  Her ample breasts bounded elegantly with every step.  Her head turned to take notice of the changes in the room.  Unkempt snacks on the table; that was a concern right away, though her eyes lingered longest on the couch.

            In the significant quiet, the girls in the adjacent room could hear Senpai’s weak breathing.  Gamo murmured softly behind her hand, “His ex, probably?”

            “No way!” snapped Nagatoro defensively.

            Sakura added pleasantly, “Maybe they’re gonna do it.”

            Nagatoro shot that down with a harsher, “They’re not!”

            “Totally going to!” Yoshi concurred.

            “I said no!”  And then she went back to pressing her ear and cat ear accessory to the door to continue prying.

            “I have been hearing unsavory rumors about the art club as of late.”  The President was still stalking toward Senpai, briefly touching the couch.  “That it has become a hangout for debauchery and chaos.”

            Senpai swallowed hard, resisting the urge to clean some spittle that he might have missed from his chin.

            “I’m thinking of doing a something for the culture festival.”  The discussion pivoted, but Senpai was uncertain about it.

            “A-Another exhibit, right?”

            “The choice is yours, of course.  I left the club in your hands when I left.”

            Senpai tried to keep a smile despite the anxious downcast of his eyes.  “I-I’d want to do an exhibit myself… but if you could present something as well, President…”

            She watched him, studied him, and then turned her gaze to the classroom.  Not nearly the state she had left it in.  It’d become too cluttered; too many things to catch the eye and scatter focus.  And then there was the canvas on the easel.  Manga-style etching of a girl lewdly propped in cat gear.  As always, Senpai drew attentively, but it lacked genuine heart.

            She moved over to him suddenly, uncrossing her arms, tits bouncing to-and-fro, and grabbing the project, shifting it to face him with the fact of it.  “I was under the impression you’d take the art club more seriously than turning it into a manga club.”

            Senpai felt the cold stab of rejection and disappointment in his gut, cowed and hanging his head.  “I do take it seriously,” he whimpered.  “I… put everything I have into every project.”

            “Not enough, it seems.”  The President came back up from the drawing.

            Beyond the room, Sakura observed the ruthlessness of an art club president.  “I didn’t think they’d be so serious.”

            “She’s really putting Paisen through it,” concurred Gamo.  “I almost feel bad for him.  She needs to loosen up.”

            “Really,” Yoshi agreed, less jovial than usual.

            Nagatoro just continued to listen intently.  She heard footsteps.  President was on the move again… giving Nagatoro’s Senpai some space.  Good…

            “Maybe if you’d spent less time entertaining others,” President murmured, “you could get serious work done.”

            Senpai made a noise like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the nerve.  Just like always.

            Then there was that very significant pause between them.

            “I’d like to see, for myself, the progress you’d made.”

            “Eh?!  B-B-But…!  President!”

            “Come.”

            Nagatoro could be mistaken, but she was fairly certain there was the sound of shifting fabric, and then a body setting down on the couch.

            That’s my couch! Nagatoro mentally fumed.  Just who did this President think she was?!

            “But, President…!”  In her mind’s eye, Nagatoro could clearly see Senpai’s reaction; the state of flummoxed panic, something that should have been reserved for her alone.  “R-Right now?!  Here?!”

            “Why not?  It’s the art club, and we are both members.”  The weight shifted on the couch.

            Nagatoro pressed her ear harder and harder to the door, wishing she could stop the loud throbbing of her own pulse.  Maybe if she listened hard enough, she could clearly ‘see’ the situation with Senpai and this art club President.

            “Here.”  Some more discernable movement; cushions shifting maybe.  Nagatoro’s glower tightened as she imagined this mystery girl posing atop her couch for Senpai to sketch.  “Show me your technique.”

            “It’s just…!  I think it might be better to do it somewhere else.”  Senpai’s quaking tones were worrying Nagatoro.

            “Heh!  Sounds like some foreplay, doesn’t it?” snickered Gamo, nudging Yoshi in the ribs with her elbow.  “But vanilla-like!  Paisen’s wa~y too soft, even after eating some ass!”  Yoshi guffawed.

            “Shh!” went a frantic Nagatoro, pivoting on them with a raised finger to her sneering lips.  “I’m trying to see what’s going on!”

            But with half of her head against the wall…

            Gamo looked scrupulously at her.  “How are you gonna see with your ears?”

            Seeing might not have been enough for Nagatoro to believe, however.  That a girl… a woman as beautiful and filled-out as the art club President could be so audaciously presented.  Senpai looked like he was braving a blizzard from how he shook so violently, yet his sweat contradicted more like he was in a scorching desert.

            He continued to fiddle with the rim of his glasses, trying to deter from gawking at the sight of President, sitting there in splendor, haunches hiked up for her feet to brace on the edge of the couch.  Skirt folded back.  A sight that would enrage Nagatoro but put Senpai on edge.  President slid a hand between her jutting legs to the flagrant underwear, hooking a finger at the crotch and issuing the silk to one side.  Her bottom was rolled forward.  Both hands employed now, making a partition over her quim – of which was already glistening with heat and proud of the dark hair in mature growth and style – to ease apart the supple meat of her ass, disclosing the immodest glimpse of her prim anus.

            “I have not seen your technique all year,” she impassively goaded, ass shifting forward slightly more to the end of the cushions.  “I think now, before the culture festival, would be appropriate.”

            “W-Well…!”  Senpai’s voice cracked to a higher pitch.  “It’s just that…!  P-Perhaps later…!”

            “True artistry is obtained in a moment,” countered the President, eyebrows furrowing slightly.  “If you cannot perform now” – She reached into her skirt’s pocket to produce a folded form, unraveled it, and held it out admonishingly – “I will have no choice but to submit the form to disband this club!”

            “Wha-What?!”

            The four girls on the other side shared a collective reaction of disbelief.  “She really takes the club seriously,” said Sakura.

            “Scary~” said Yoshi.

            “Disband?!  But…!”  Senpai stammered, dreading the paper of closure.  It was already filled out and signed.  It just needed to be set on the class president’s desk.  “I-I’ve been doing my best since you left!”

            “Then show me and prove it!” President said with a strong voice.  She set the paper aside and reached back down to resume prying her ass cheeks open, no longer hiding the flowered line of her pussy.  Hedged with dark purple hair, but well-kept in its flare.  The clit peeked beyond its hood, the lips looked plumped and shimmering with arousal.

            There was a long period before Senpai finally reached up and adjusted his glasses.  “Y-Yes, President…”  His eyes cast momentarily to the door hiding his four secrets.  Hopefully she wasn’t listening.

            It’s not like this is the first time…  He tried to reason that with himself as he dutifully approached President.  Her thighs were pulled back; not hard, but her enormous chest was flattened against her knees anyway.  The scent of her hit his nostrils with such nostalgic familiarity.  Sweetness overlaying a stronger, heavier musk from between her legs.  His jaw dropped with a sudden, involuntary gasp of want.  No different than that self portrait she had made of herself; she’d captured the senses and drew the enlightened in just as easily as the careless.  With no behavior of thought, his hands came up and caressed her thighs; in rapture and admiration.  They were so smooth, he was afraid of bruising her, yet so strong they could trap him if they came together.

            Sana watched him with unflinching cool.  It was expected of him, to do as he was told, to bow that shabby head of his between her legs and start worshipping her tight, little hole.  He was practically in a daze, following by touch and desire.  A soft moan escaped him; she felt it on her nethers, a warm puff of air.  And then the wetness of his tongue across her asshole.  She settled into the careful brush.  It was a stronger start than before, when he’d hyperventilate and try to barter his way out of the situation.  Far from the confidence she wanted him to have, but this was a start.

            He was taking an account of her, measuring what he had to work with, familiarizing himself with her asshole: taste, texture, scent, the noises – if any – she’d hum if he deviated from the norm, and sight in his mind’s eye.  He had to visualize her satisfied to make it happen.  Wasn’t that the artist’s duty, to work toward a moment?

            Aha!  What a creepy idea!  Creepy-creepy!

            His closed eye ticked.  Nagatoro.  Her voice echoed, laughing in his head, imagining her tapping heavily on his head and calling him a closeted pervy perv, whether his tongue was trying to crawl up her asshole or not.  President was an entirely different experience; quiet but for the merest moans practically indiscernible from a breath.  He might not have even thought he was doing a good job if not for the runny moisture flavoring the pucker and glazing his probing nose.  Nagatoro was so opposed to him touching her pussy so he instinctively tried to refrain from nuzzling the President’s.  But the more he licked, the more intoxicated he became to her heightened sounds.

            His thumbs were pushing her mounds apart for his tongue to get to its feast; President moved her right hand onto his head, grabbing a clump of his thick hair.  “Hm.”  An observational sound more than pleasure while he cautiously nosed her folds.  “A bolder approach.  Hana will be pleased to know you’ve improved your dedication.”

            With a silent slurp for his drool – and a wary wipe from the back of his hand – he took pause to answer and rest his overworked tongue, “Not really.”  But Nagatoro had egged him on when it came to eating ass, always presenting herself in lewd positions and taunting him to get his tongue in as deep as he could.

            “Modesty is different than doubt,” said Sana, reclaiming the top of his head and shoving him back to work.  “Know the difference, Hachioji.”

            Senpai stammered against her crevice, but commenced all the same.

            “Aha!  That’s definitely the sound of someone chowing on a girl’s ass,” laughed Gamo.

            “Rimjob!” Yoshi cheered.

            “No way!” Nagatoro snapped back at the both while Sakura said with more nuance that it was suspect.

            “Hu~h?” Gamo drawled with a tilt and an incredulous lean in her posture.  “Aren’t you the one always advocating he’s a closet perv?  He wanted to keep us hidden from her, after all.”  She suddenly smirked to Nagatoro’s faltering confidence, miming a lecherous grope.  “He’s probably getting all squeezy with her right now!”

            “T-There’s no way that creepy bean sprout’s that bold!”  Nagatoro wheeled around, putting the provocations of her friend to her naked back.  “He’s just showing some painting techniques or something…!”

            “Alright.  I think you should show me your stamina now,” said the mystery President, which locked Nagatoro’s posture in a snap.

            “Things must be getting good over there,” Gamo continued to nettle.

            Nagatoro was starting to strain under the growing weight of her doubt.  It didn’t help that her three friends were coming to the consensus that creepy, closeted-perv, virgin Senpai was doing naughty things with his club’s President.

            And it didn’t help to hear Senpai’s whiny voice protesting in the other room.  “P-Please, President!  We-We should finish somewhere else!”

            “In here is a good enough place to finish” was the President’s reply.

            Sakura whispered behind a hand – though she did not try to actually be discrete – “It certainly sounds suspicious.”

            Nagatoro couldn’t take it anymore!  Not caring about her nudity, she grabbed the handle of the door and proclaimed, “Fine!  I’ll show you…!”  She threw the door open, rushed out and honed in on Senpai’s position, cackling forcefully and prematurely.  But eyes landing on Senpai, dropping – or being pulled – over another girl with noticeably large attributes, with her hand ushering his cock to her asshole…

            Nagatoro froze in shock, mouth gaping as the friends filed out behind her.

            Gamo whistled when her gaze landed on the sight.  “How about that?  He really is screwing another girl.  Ha!”  She patted presumptuously on her short-circuited friend’s shoulder.  “I guess you unleashed a beast, Hayacchi!”

            “Beastly!”

            Sakura’s gaze sized up Senpai-kun’s revealed cock.  Not bad for such a scrawny guy; she supposed he was a solid B, though she herself was a grade A whore by nature.

            Sana regarded this intrusion coolly; undisturbed and unperturbed.  She looked back at Naoto; he was gawking at the darkhaired girl who had made the first appearance.  Surely it wasn’t her nakedness that had him subdued.  Her breasts were not that big, but they were comfortably high, compact, and flexible when she moved.  She lacked the lusciousness of Sana’s own form, but the package was tight and firm, skin exotic outside the tan lines where she had fairer flesh.  A mound of moistness from a coddled pussy and a sensible amount of hair; not the full flare of Sana’s pubic mound.

            “Are these the ones who have been treating the art club like a playhouse?” she asked, turning back to Naoto.  He stammered a bit, and in his gestating, she coaxed his cockhead against her tight asshole, promising either to let him through or reject him if he did not come up with an answer.

            “S-She’s…!”  Naoto shook violently as he stared down at his dick being nuzzled against her hole.  Precum was smearing with his spit, slickening her.  “She’s a first year who-who comes in from time to time to-to model for me…!” he finally blurted.

            Sana’s eyes darkened a little.  “Is that so?”  She now looked down herself, craning her neck to witness his bulbous tip pressing up to her.  “Is hanging out more important than the art club to you?”

            “Uh…!”  That was an answer he could not give; not without extreme jeopardy.

            “Hey!”

            President and Senpai looked over at once.  Nagatoro had shaken herself from her mental paralysis and now faced the President with the unwavering confidence Senpai was much more familiar with.  She braced herself a moment, and then said, “You can’t just show back up to the club you abandoned and start making all these requests of Senpai and threaten to shut down the club!”

            “Oh?”  Sana was hardly amused.

            “If you doubt Senpai”—Nagatoro thrust out a finger in challenge, assuming a strong pose that made her tits give a subtle bump together—“let him prove you wrong, President!”

            “…”  Sana’s eyes narrowed on her.  After a tense moment, she said, “Very well,” and then grabbed onto Naoto’s right shoulder for leverage.  “If you can last five minutes in me, Hachioji, we’ll compete in the culture festival and decide there whether I’ll submit the paper or not.”

            “F-Five minutes?!  Inside?!  I-I can’t do that!”  His record at the beginning of the year was less than two minutes when Sana rode him.  Granted, her pace was brutal, her form flawless, the vision of her tits slapping together captivating.  But since then!  He’d done nothing but jerk off to hentai!  Not even edging!  And since becoming Nagatoro’s personal ass-licker – with no mutual reciprocation – he felt he was even less prepared.

            Nagatoro accepted the challenge for him, though, through an angry flush.  “Senpai can last that long easily!  And then he’ll beat you in the culture festival!”

            “You mean… I need to compete to compete?!” screeched the exacerbated Senpai.

            “Ha!  You can do this!”  Nagatoro flashed him a wink and a thumbs-up.  “Every challenge is an opportunity!”

            “Should be fun,” added Gamo.

            Senpai made a sound behind his nervously-pursed lips, turning back and staring at President’s channel.  Her hand still held him – more aloft than before, granting him more control – but he felt the pressure causing his dick to wane.  He wasn’t sure he could perform under this sort of pressure!

            “Don’t get nervous now, Senpai!”

            He gave a startled yelp when he felt the second hand close – with a certain hesitance or reverence – around his dick, closer to the base than the President’s firm hold, and then Nagatoro’s light body weigh onto his back.  “N-Nagatoro!”  She’d never held nor saw his cock since a minute ago!

            “Don’t go limp!  You always get a boner when you feel my chest on you, don’t you Sen-Pai♥”  Her breasts squished up against him, eliciting another frantic shout from him.  Yet this distraction invigorated his dick, losing its softening bend and sticking up pompously to Sana’s crack.

            Sana stared suspiciously to this revelation.

            “C’mon!  Push into her butt!  You can do it, Senpai!”  Nagatoro laughed mercilessly, adding pressure from her naked hips to his backside; he was still fully dress, only his button and fly undone to unleash his erection.  He appealed for some clemency, but was denied.  “You got to put it all the way in!  Oh!  But her butt is so tight!  You wanted to stick this big thing in my butt too when you lick it, isn’t that right, Senpai?!”

            “N-No!  Not at all!”  Senpai’s fingers clenched into President’s meaty thighs.  The head pressed up, tighter and tighter to her little pucker.  It seemed she wouldn’t shift at all, her orifice as unbending as her rules, and then…

            A collective show of surprise and success from the friends, Nagatoro crying out jubilantly, “It’s in!”

            “Huh?”  Senpai looked down – He’d arched his back, turning face to ceiling from the pressure. – and saw that he was indeed snuggling into President’s tight channel; just the tip, but he had breached.  And it wasn’t nearly as hard as at the start of the year.  The blunt head was through and the sphincter was widening as eager Nagatoro fed more of him inside.  The tan nuisance looked deranged – almost panicked or frenzied – as she helped Senpai wedge deeper and deeper.  The rim held close to his intruding organ, pushing back his foreskin when the full, darker head pushed though, locking in his accomplishment.

            “Keep going!  Don’t stop now!”  As if he was given any sort of choice when Nagatoro was humping him from behind like a poorly-behaved dog.

            “Stop!” he whined, having no muscle to resist her.  “This isn’t helping!”

            “Yes, it is!” Nagatoro shouted back, thrusting her hips harder to his butt.

            Bit by bit, he was going into Sana, and he was right: Nagatoro wasn’t giving him much of a chance to calm down and go at a safer pace.  Two inches in now.  Sana’s rippling walls were condensed and snug, fitting him much too tightly.  They convulsed and gripped, practically pulling him in, though when they relaxed – no doubt by Sana’s volition of bearing down – it felt possible to fall into her!  He bit hard on his lips, holding in a moan while watching her stretched hole swallow more and more and more until…

            She was at the base, he was balls-deep.  Her heat, all around him, clenching, moving in subtle coils to sheath him.

            “It’s all the way in,” confirmed Sana in an even voice, holding up her phone to officially start the countdown from five minutes.

            “Yay!  Alright!”  Nagatoro, having never lost her intense blush nor the cold sweat shimmering on her entire body, ribbed him with her elbow.  “Don’t give up yet, Senpai!  It’s just begun!”

            Senpai was fully aware of that!  And he need not have her gloating about it!  His cheeks inflated, face shifting from red to blue as he held in his breath.  Five minutes of this?!  Five seconds was torment!  His dick was throbbing already, twitching and smearing heaps of precum onto her raw walls.

            “Look at him.  I’m surprised he’d not blowing his load already,” Gamo half-joked, finding the entire situation amusing.  “He probably jacked off this morning.  That’s why he’s lasting so long.”

            “Shameful pervert!  Hahaha!”  Yoshi laughed with her catlike eyes gleaming.

            Sakura, however, fussed.  “I’m a little jealous, though.  Why couldn’t he have used that big thing instead of his tongue?”

            “Are you crazy?!” Gamo blabbed.  She pointed at Paisen.  “That thing’s too big to go up my ass!”

            “Oh~?”  Sakura turned innocently away from the taller girl, partially hiding a wry grin.  “You’re not so adventurous after all, Gamo-chan.”

            “Prudish!” added Yoshi, guffawing.

            They could jibe amongst themselves, but Nagatoro kept Senpai focused, rubbing his shoulders like he was a boxing champ in between rounds.  “You got this,” she said sharply (in broken English).  “Just keep that gooey creep load inside your balls for another four minutes.”

            “I don’t think I can,” he sputtered.  His balls were already hurting, pulsing and ready to squirt and abandon the art club altogether.  Until Nagatoro’s caught them in her hand and gave them a good squeeze!  A jolt of terror went up his spine, nearly stealing the rigidity of his cock – in which scenario, Sana’s bowels would have squeezed his cock out.  His dick gave a hard thump, but didn’t release thankfully.

            “Just hold on,” she said with a bit more tenderness as Senpai swallowed air.

            His eyes drifted back to her.  Did she… really believe in him?  He couldn’t even say that for himself, but…  He hoisted himself forward, exhaling as he bracketed himself between the President’s hiked-up knees.  “O-Okay, I’ll try…!”  His face mirrored no confidence, but his eyes steadied on Sana.  She was unmoved, staring blankly, while inside, her intestines rolled and grabbed at his study cock.  She wasn’t teasing him as much as testing him.  Already, he’d passed the marker of the beginning of the year when he flooded her and apologized profusely for his premature ejaculation.  She had dismissed it, turning over, lifting a cheek, and showing the white drizzle spilling out of her hole.  But back then, she had been in charge and rode his dick with her ass like a champion jockey.

            So his plan here was simply to wait out the clock…  Even that was a risk from her fluttering walls…

            “What are you waiting for?” nagged Nagatoro, poking a finger into his cheek.  His gazed checked over his shoulder to find her frowning.  “Why aren’t you thrusting?”

            “W-Well, it’s just that…”  He murmured, lowering his head, fixing his glasses like usual.  Under his breath, almost unintelligible, he said, “I might cum.”

            “Ha!  What a skeevy, pervy thing to say  Pervy Senpai wants it to last in the President’s butt♪”

            “Well, he wants to keep his club,” said Gamo with little seriousness.  “You can’t put too much pressure on an herbivore.”

            “Premature ejaculation~!” Yoshi sang.

            “But if he just sits there, it’ll be boring,” said flushed, drooling Yoshi, sucking up some spit at the corner of her mouth as she started to fantasize getting a hard rutting up the ass.

            “That’s right!  Go for it, Senpai!”  Nagatoro smacked his back hard and heavy several times; he was certain to get a bruise there.  “Give it to your President!  The old heave-ho!”  She thrust her hips into his backside, making him ricochet off Sana’s big, plump ass cheeks, bounding back a little.  He slipped out a few inches, his head rubbing against the gentle grooves of her intestine.

            “Sorry, President!” he impulsively cried and obediently dove back in despite the anxiety of cumming.  He didn’t, though he felt a wet throb go through his cock, setting another dose of precum inside her.

            “It’s fine,” said Sana, still watching his behavior and reactions to the rabid girl behind him.  Quite a chemistry they had; Hachioji was normally so reserved and quiet, taking his scoldings like a beaten dog.  Now?  He was talking back, asserting himself; futilely, but he was trying.  A little argument later, he was thrust forward again, his little body cresting over Sana again, pushing her naked legs further apart to go chest to chest.

            “Ah!  You’re up against her boobs now!”

            Senpai struggled not to look at those jugs – soft as pillows through her blouse – compressing against his chest.  “I-I know…!” he got out.

            “But you get so nervous when you feel mine, don’t you?  Can you feel them now, Senpai?”  Nagatoro hugged tightly to him, rubbing her chest deliberately to his back to get a reaction.  His face went hot, noticing the points of her nipples grinding against him.  If they were to play the ‘Find the Nipple’ game again, he’d hit them dead-on with his eyes closed!

            His anxiety had left him vulnerable to Nagatoro’s pulverizing pumps, bouncing in and out of Sana’s entrance with wet squelching from within and without.  Those giant tits of hers shuffled in tandem between them, but her expression never faltered.  She was too in control of her faculties, and it was upsetting Nagatoro that Senpai was trying so hard, yet not getting anywhere.

            So she offered some advice.  “Be more handsy, Senpai!  You can’t just hold her legs like stirrups!”

            “Wha-What do you expect me to do?!” he panicked, the sweat weighing down his bushy hair.  He was on his last legs in this race against the clock.  He’d pounded the President’s asshole open to the point where it accepted his inward thrusts with some ease, her pale cheeks now beaten a cute pink from the clap of his thighs.  But there was still two painful minutes from club closure!  He was throbbing like mad already, balls aching like never before!  He felt that he’d gushed out more precum than he had actual cum the last time he jerked off!

            “Tch!  I told you to do things on your own, how you want to do it!”

            Senpai balked under her disapproving tone.  She’d given him reasonable doubt in his own capabilities by rubbing and grinding on him, so it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d lasted – His eyes flicked to the phone’s countdown in President’s fallen hand. – three minutes and twenty seconds.

            But her advice…

            He paused significantly, staring down at the club President, her staring solemnly back, and then thrust his hands to her chest, groping her through the fabric of her blouse, rustling the cotton and tousling the laden bra underneath.  She made no indication of it, but her bra lost one breast, dropping out from the cup’s cradle, and Naoto noticed right away the deeper softness.

            The cheers around him fell on his deafened ears, yet the felt motivated all the same by Nagatoro’s and her friends’ cheers at his boldness.  “You’ve got quite a handful to work with,” Gamo said, bouncing her own breasts on her crossed arms, acknowledging that they were big but not as big as the upper-class President’s pair.

            “That’s right!  Keep going!” Nagatoro egged him one with a clear spur of energy and anxiety.  Sweat was pouring down her face more, her breathing heaving unlike before.  Was she… enjoying this?  More than he enjoyed hentai, doujins and videos?  He’d heard of the voyeurism kink before.

            The walls around his prick gave a quick pulse, clamping on him, making him hitch.  “You have a minute,” President said coldly.

            A minute!  With all his fondling and meditating – hard as it was with Nagatoro panting and chewing her lips right next to his ear – he had hoped he’d gotten a bit further.  Thirty seconds was pushing his limits now!  “N-Nagatoro!  Please stop!”  He hadn’t a chance when his bullying friend was setting the harsh pace to President’s bowels.

            “No way!  Now’s when you finish strong, Senpai!”

            “You don’t quit at the finish line, Paisen,” said Gamo.

            “Full steam ahead!” exclaimed Yoshi, thrusting out a fist.

            “Just don’t blow your load too quick now,” cautioned Sakura, lapping dreamily at view of the slick dick pulling through the buxom President’s asshole.

            I can’t do it!  Senpai dropped his head, watching in slow motion the last draws of his hips.  The clock clicked down out of the corner of his eye.  He was in tear-spilling agony, pinching back the impulse to send the flood when twenty-nine rolled down.

            “Keep at it!  C’mon, Senpai!  Don’t give up yet!  Give her all you’ve got!”

            “If it’ll make you perform your best,” agreed President before her hands came up, clutching her shirt and popping the buttons when she ripped it open, tits juggling out in pliant frenzy, escaping the other cup of her bra.

            There’s no way!  Senpai gawped, stupefied by her brazen exposure.  He could now watch – or was forced to watch – those huge jugs of hers bound in time with the smack of his hips!  And there was still twenty seconds to go!  Without thinking, his right hand slapped – or clapped, considering how loud it had come down – on her pubic mound, lighting her eyes up momentarily with surprise while his thumb dropped onto her clitoris.

            “Fifteen seconds!”  Nagatoro slapped excitedly on Senpai’s shoulders, eyes glued on the clock.

            Whimpering, unable to find his voice, Senpai just began to sporadically wag his thumb across President’s little nub, bustling it against the gentle bristle of her pubic hair.  Sana’s eyes watched him fumble with her pulsing pussy, undulating each time his cock pushed into her lower hole.  He was losing the pattern of his motions, ticking involuntarily and sharp, not pulling far from her coiling depths.  The throbbing was more intense than before; she saw it in his eyes that he was holding on by sheer luck now.

            “Your balls are so tight now!”

            Was Nagatoro trying to sabotage him?!  Senpai squealed, straightening like the beanpole she always called him.  She was massaging his testicles again, rolling them in her fingers, squeezing them lightly.  “If you win,” she whispered hotly in his ear, tickling him with her breath, “how about I give you a kiss?”

            Senpai, unable to restrain his reactions at the best of times, turned to her with an exclamation of shock.  “Wha~?!  Do-Don’t promise things like that!”

            She ignored him.  “Don’t give up yet!  Seven more seconds!”

            “Gyah!”  Why did she bite him?!

            00:06!

            “Keep going, Paisen!  You’re almost there!”

            00:05!

            “Lightspeed!”

            00:04.

            “Don’t give up, Senpai-kun.”

            00:03.

            Nagatoro’s eyes went wide, pulling her teeth from Senpai’s shoulder to gleam in her smile.

            00:02.

            “… ughn♥”

            00:01.

            Senpai choked up, sweating bullets, and gave a heavy, husky breath, every muscle painfully pinching back his release relaxing.  His cock began to spasm and soak the rich intestines he was in.  Lancing, frothing gushes spilled into every nook and cranny, chasing up the condensed lining before washing back, marinating his pulsing tip.

            Senpai shuddered violently, his orgasm confirmed before the beeping alarm went off on Sana’s phone.  “Aw~  He was so close too,” Gamo lamented.

            Nagatoro’s happy features receded when she felt the balls in her grip flexing over and over, dumping their contents up the President’s chute.  In front of her, she heard her gasping Senpai: “I-I’m sorry…!”  He was being throttled by waves of ecstasy.

            Nagatoro stiffened before she could let the worry consume her face, instead masking her sympathy for him behind her usual barrage of teasing.  “Oi, come now, Senpai!  Of course you were gonna blow your load too fast!”  She massaged his aching undercarriage, helping him exhaust all his labors.  “Such a pervert!  Pervert♪  Bet you wish it could go inside me instead!  Don’t worry, we’ll start a new club for you, where you can eat ass after school…!”

            “I won’t recommend the shutdown of the art club.”

            The taunts came to an abrupt halt, and all eyes went to Sana.  The president was reclining into the couch cushions, body not as tense as before, her face a brighter shade of pink.  If not for her stoic demeanor, she may have looked contented.

            Senpai managed to speak first.  “What did you say?”  A weakness to his voice; a shudder as Nagatoro dazedly plucked at his scrotum.

            Sana elaborated, “I won’t put in my recommendation for the club’s shutdown… yet.”  Primly, with businesslike briskness, she closed her eyes and stuffed her rack back into her bra and began to button up – what she could – her blouse.  To answer the question on Hachioji’s face, she continued, “The agreement was for you to last five minutes.  You failed by one second.  But”—And her chin tucked shyly as she said this part—“for me to lose my composure for an instant… you proved your love for this club.  That’s worthy of one second being awarded to you.”

            It was odd reasoning, and Naoto was a bit confused by it… but maybe that was the aftereffect of a heady ejaculation.  Luckily, Nagatoro was there to catch Sana’s drift and celebrate for him!  “Hear that, Senpai!  Now you can compete in the culture festival!”  The friends cheered for him too.  Nagatoro, beaming like it was her shared victory – which it was – leaned over his thin frame and said, “Let’s get you out of her and get to work!”  His cock had dwindled in size and hardness, pulling easily from Sana’s flooded bowels with a wet squelch; Sakura could be heard swooning as if from a miniature orgasm when the unclogged hole gaped and gushed with potent semen.  “Whoa, that is a lot,” Nagatoro couldn’t help musing as it leaked onto the green sofa.

            But no time to waste!  There had to be brainstorming for how to beat the President in the culture festival!  And she had promised during her leave, after fixing her panties and laying a wad of layered tissue over her throbbing and raw pucker, to do her best and not go easy on him.  Gamo and Sakura and Yoshi all spoke tough for the winded Paisen, but it was Nagatoro’s glower that spoke loudest.  Sana could feel confidence radiating from that look, and knew Hachioji was in good hands with her.

            On the walk home…

            “So,” Nagatoro broke the uncomfortable silence with nonchalant interest, “why did you put me last?”  She was blushing as she narrowed her eyes on Senpai next to her.

            “Y-You’re worrying about that?”  He futzed with his glasses, hoping that she would let the conversation fizzle, but she stayed firm, waiting impatiently for an answer.  He wasn’t going to be able to just ignore it, so he answered.  “I-It was just that…”  He held his lips together in a nervous line.  In a quieter voice, he said, “I wanted to… spend the longest time with you.”

            Nagatoro flinched, not expecting him to say something so…  “Lame!” she guffawed, though her act was unconvincing to outside opinion; Senpai was too embarrassed and self-conscious to notice it himself.  She brushed up against him, tapping his nose with her fingertip, jabbering, “You like the taste of my asshole so much, you wanted to lick at it all day?  Such a pervert!  Bet you were hoping I’d be like your slutty President and beg you to stuff that bone of yours up there too, huh?  Senpai, you’re such a skeevy perv♥”

            “I’m not!” he hollered back while his face turned beet red.

            Laughing with more relish than she meant, she grabbed him by the wrist and hurried him along.  “Come on!  Let’s go to my place!  My sister can help out!”

            “H-Help out with what?!”  Senpai was dragged to the Nagatoro household, and the beginning of the culture festival showdown could begin in earnest or something!

ccc

            The culture festival came and went.  Naoto’s showcase got a lot of good attention – portraits of a dark-skinned girl in varying, lewd positions, smiling with spatters of white across her face, once covering an eye, one with her admiring her chest and budding breasts covered in goo, one where she looked salaciously behind her to her raised butt, gaping with a white outpour, and one that included an older woman, smiling and holding up the peace sign while her finger licked some white from the dark-skinned girl’s tan nipple, much to the dark-skinned girl’s chagrin – but there was no question that Sunomiya Sana’s self-portrait of her rolling to one side to expose her cum-packed hole, elegantly lifting the upper cheek to give the viewer unobstructed viewing of the wet insides of her asshole.  It was so detailed, and the oglers would murmur, “The contrast of colors…” and “The vulnerability of the artist…” and “Just look at them titties…”  There was a clear winner in the art club’s schism…

            Until the class president got involved and said Sana’s art was too lewd.  This forfeited her from the imposed competition, though Naoto – respecting his President’s work and the tightness of her ass – contended for her that he should also be disqualified, as his art was just as lewd.  But the class president dismissed his petition, saying that he would be allowed to continue the culture festival.  “Because your paintings aren’t as good.”

            A kick in the balls, sure, but Nagatoro and her friends cheered for Senpai’s official win, though he was disillusioned by the painful judgment, even if Sana personally expressed that his art was credible regardless, because they were paintings of love and hardcore debauchery that showcased the appreciation of the female form and how it should always be lusted upon.

            Senpai tried to reason that that was not the case, but…

            Gamo interjected before this ramble of morality could continue.  “So,” she said, eyeing the art club President, cracking her knuckles harshly, “what should we do as punishment for losing?”

            “H-Hey, there’s no need for that…”

            “Please, Hachioji,” said Sana solemnly, placing a calming hand on his shoulder to get him to stand down.  She faced his posse resolutely.  “I am willing to accept the terms of my defeat.”

ccc Moments later in the art club ccc

            “C’mon, Sakura!  I think she can fit one more!”

            “Triple Attack!” cheered Yoshi, having already stuck her strap-on dildo next to Gamo’s within Sana’s asshole.  The art club President prostrated herself over the couch when it was agreed that she would surrender her hole to them for them to do as they liked.  It was unanimous – to all but Naoto – to stuff her full and see how many she could take in her ass at once.  Gamo’s strap-on was thicker than Paisen’s cock, but could fit in pretty easily after some licking and fingering – Gamo looked over at Paisen and teased that she was sure she could taste some of his leftover cum from a week ago, to which he grumbled it was impossible. – and Yoshi quickly clammed her way in next, stretching the tight hole while barely getting a grunt out of the indomitable Sana.

            “Well, I suppose,” hummed Sakura, whose preference of strap-on was cutely small.  She crowded in with her two friends, all standing shoulder to shoulder instead of finding a more comfortable way to impale Sana.  She let some drool fall on the tip of her highlight-green phallus and aimed it to wherever she could find leeway in the overstuffed anus.  Slowly, the rim was pried further apart, Sana inhaling sharply from the extreme tension, relaxing herself and bearing down as she took in this final appendage.

            “It is my duty,” she muttered to herself, “to accept this responsibility.”  Her right eye ticked for a moment when Yoshi bounced, jostling all four of them together, Gamo reprimanding her that they’d all go down if anyone of them lost their balance.

            “Right, now let’s go together,” she instructed, and then immediately, the three of them started fucking Sana at varying tempos, Gamo snapping that the other two didn’t listen, Yoshi saying she wanted to go fast like a bunny, and Sakura mewling she liked to take it slow; Gamo, of course, wanted to go hard and deep with her longer and thicker dildo.  Sana just stayed bent over and let them abuse her ass as they wished.

            And all the while, Senpai was forced to watch, with a cock ring choking his dick as Nagatoro rode him with her own asshole.  Her virginity was still intact because of the anal loophole, but she’d gotten good enough at this that she could definitely be counted amongst the best of whores.  She looked dementedly at Senpai as she shoved his chin up, making him watch his precious, respected President get her asshole blown open.  “Looks like she’ll be pretty useless to your small dick in the future!” she jeered, laughing as Sana was fucked harder and harder in three varying tempos.

            Senpai could only wonder how it had turned out like this, when all he wanted to do was paint.

ccc