𝚈𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙷𝙸

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𝙹𝚄𝙹𝚄𝚃𝚂𝚄 𝙺𝙰𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙽 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

'*•.¸♡ 𝚃𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙸 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙽 𝙰 𝙿𝙾𝚁𝙽 𝚆𝙴𝙱𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙴 ♡¸.•*'

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

୨ৎ 𝚃𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙸 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙰 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝚂 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻 ୨ৎ

PART TWO⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝚃𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙸 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙰 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝚂 𝙰 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

꧁𓆩༺ 𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙽 ༻𓆪꧂

𓂃˖⋆ 𝙻𝙴𝚅𝙸 𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙳 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙴𝚁

𓂃˖⋆ 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰 𝙵𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚅𝙸 𝙸𝙽 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝙴

There was no easy way to teach and be taught after what you two had done.

That said, working had never been more exciting, and you had never been more eager to get on a school bus.

Goodbye anxiety, goodbye doubts and what-ifs. The minute both of your loafers hit the same wooden floors, you two were overcome by an odd wave of thrilling confidence. Nothing made your chin rest higher - your back arch with cockiness - than knowing your teacher wanted to fuck you.

Badly.

And nothing made Mr. Kento walk stronger than knowing he had a pretty girl like you wet at the mere thought of his touch.

You were no longer a distraction in his mind; he no longer had to fantasize about you. With the peace of mind of knowing he had you at his disposal, he could focus on his strict schedule again. From eight to six, teaching; from six to seven-thirty, the gym; from seven-thirty to eight, shower and dinner; from eight onwards, fucking and pampering his favorite girl.

Needless to say, he walked into your classroom with a straightened back and a sly smile framing the lines on his cheeks.

Though it was fleeting.

His smile breaking upon seeing your empty chair.

He cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, and tried to act normal. He counted every minute of the class until it was acceptable for him to ask about you.

“She’s in the infirmary checking her foot,” one of your classmates said.

He refrained from asking anything else.

An hour passed, your class, and two more. He didn't see you in the hallways or in his mobile notifications. He grew desperate as the minutes ticked by.

The bell marked the end of lunch. The sun was at its highest point, the hallways smelled of baked bread, the birds sang excitedly for the soon-to-arrive summer, and dozens of students processed at a slow pace back to their classes.

It was Nanami’s turn for hall duty; he had already finished his lessons.

His eyes were sharp as he scanned the tide of students, until he spotted your friends walking toward the baseball field bleachers instead of to class.

Nanami waited four long minutes, allowing the students to trace the path to you without scaring them away with his authoritarian profile. Then, he followed the cobblestones toward the sports area. The air became clearer as he breathed in the sight of you.

Far away. From behind. And yet he could see you, smell you, imagine you.

You were sitting on the bleachers, surrounded by two crutches and a group of friends who seemed to be whispering things to you while stroking your hair. Nanami frowned as he got closer: whispers that were trying to encourage you.

Your friends saw the teacher, scared at being caught loitering. Nanami simply pointed toward the school building, and they all went running, bowing to apologize.

When you turned around, when Nanami met your face, his world went silent.

Red, swollen eyes. Streaks of black mascara running down your chin, and a shivering lower lip that accompanied your uncontrollable cries. Nanami rushed to your side, eyes wide and worried. You hid behind your hands, turning your back to him.

“Go away,” you hissed, an arrow right through his throat. “Not now, please.”

“What’s wrong?” He loomed over you, blocking the sun. “What happened?”

“The cut isn’t as shallow as you said it was. It reached a nerve.”

“What? Who said that?”

Nanami crouched in front of you. His large hands caged your knees, then caressed down to pool your ankles with the possessive care of a father.

“Dr. Fukushima,” you murmured, trying to keep your face from him. “I can’t move my toes; I need to have surgery.”

The teacher went silent, surprised by the harshness in your voice, by the way you hid your precious face in your hands.

He forgot everything; his profession, his duty, the hour, the day, and even his name. The only thing that mattered to him was the fragile woman whose shoulders shook uncontrollably, the porcelain doll he once promised to look after.

“When…?”

You didn't let him continue.

“I won’t be able to swim the rest of the season, I won’t be able to go to the final championships… It’s over! I’ve worked hard for nothing!” You raised your voice with rage, your eyes were bright red, your face a mess. “You said the cut was small!”

Nanami was not intimidated by your recriminating shouts. He stayed crouched between your legs with soft, calm eyes; your outbursts didn't matter to him, he could only imagine the storm you were carrying inside.

“I’m sorry, MC,” he murmured, gently stroking your calves. “I wish I could… I’m sorry, I should have been at the pool in the first place, I would have prevented you from getting cut.”

You clicked your tongue with rage, bowed your head amidst sobs, and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s not even your fault,” you whimpered angrily. “Fuck… This is absolute bullshit.”

“Love… You can cuss me out all you want,” Nanami confessed.

He knew what kind of person he was dealing with: a hormonal young girl with dangerous and fleeting ideas.

He knew that, just as he was entangled in the fire of your prohibited desires and erotic secrets, the time had also come to get entangled in the fire of young problems, mood swings, and intense fights.

Nanami was a fool for dating his student, but he was no fool on how to treat one.

While you hid your crying, your teacher’s hands moved up your leg. He bowed his head - his blonde hair falling over his forehead - and kissed the soft skin of your knees in a calm and careful gesture.

“Let’s redirect our focus, okay?” He moved closer, his broad shoulders swallowing your figure completely. “I’m sorry you can’t finish your last season, but let’s look on the bright side… Now we can focus more on the university entrance exams. You’ll have more time to prepare, we can organize ourselves better, with many more tutoring sessions.”

“Can’t I just be sad for one fucking second?!”

You lifted your enraged face. Nanami took the opportunity to cage it with his hands.

“No, not with me,” he hissed, holding your face in place. “It’s killing me to see you like this.”

Your crying ceased immediately. Red, puffy eyes now wide as you took in your teacher’s worried gaze.

Nanami’s thumbs caressed your cheeks, wet and stained. He took the end of his sleeve and passed it under your eyes, holding your chin in place as he removed the makeup smudged all over your face.

You both stayed silent.

His hands were warm, his gestures gentle. You could see his chest rising and falling with deep breaths of pride. He loved taking care of you, he needed it - your submission - more than anything.

You stopped crying fully.

Now with a black and orange-stained sleeve, Nanami brushed your eyebrows and rubbed under your lower lip to erase the gloss glitter. Then, his hands reached your hair, combing down in swift gentle motions.

He was pampering you so much - his perfume tickling your nose - you didn't see his words coming.

“I want you to stop streaming.”

You froze.

“W- What?”

“I know you’re a webcam girl,” Nanami murmured, his hands not stopping their careful combing, his face serious and serene. “I want you to stop, immediately.”

“H-…”

You didn't dare ask how, when, or why. Nanami didn't seem angry, but his words were clear as he restored you to perfection. He seemed to have been thinking about this for a long time.

“I don’t want you ever masturbating in front of any man other than me. I don’t want you masturbating at all, in general. You will save yourself for me… If that’s alright with you.”

You listened with the attention of a soldier while his hands shaped the ends of your hair into a perfect ringlet.

“I know your mother puts a lot of pressure on you, and I don’t want to commit the same error, but I need you to let me be the man I am, MC.” His eyes met yours, and you nodded. “No more webcaming, no more fingering in the early hours of the morning. When you leave school, you’ll tell your mother you’re going to the library, and I’ll pick you up on the corner of your street. You’ll come to my house to study… and nothing but study… No distractions. If I see you trying to distract yourself with me, I’ll take you back so you can study at your house, and no, I won’t pick up the phone.”

Nanami’s hands finished their task and rested on your hips, locking you in so you would listen closely.

“We will study until nine, and I’ll take you back to your house. Have dinner and do what you have to do to be in bed before eleven; sleep is just as important as studying. I want to see you rested.”

Your lips wavered into a small smile; Nanami’s did too.

“This is how we do things past thirty,” he murmured, and you laughed out loud with an angelic sound that made his chest flutter.

“Sounds like torture,” you teased back.

“Seeing you cry like this is the real torture, MC,” he sighed. “I can’t let you fail your exams; I couldn't stand to see you like this again.”

The distant sound of laughter brought Nanami back to reality. He abandoned your hips with a caress, stood up, and took a seat beside you on the bleachers.

“I’m sorry for what I said…” you murmured. “I can’t help being sad.”

“It’s okay, honey,” he smiled. “I’m used to the sharp tongues of my students.”

“What will happen if the surgery is right before the exams?”

“Then I’ll go see you, textbooks in hand. I heard hospital reclining beds are comfortable for studying.”

“You’d come to the hospital to see me?” You laughed. “Sure, because that’s not suspicious at all.”

“Of course I would go.”

“My mother would probably think you’re going to see her,” you cringed.

“Having to endure your mother is collateral damage I can tolerate, if the price is you.”

“Oh, so I’m a price? A trophy?” You teased, poking his arm.

“C'mon…” Nanami rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You love being treated like a doll, don’t pull the feminist card on me.”

“Isn't that what feminism is all about?” You retorted. “Being able to be who you want without judgment?”

“Listen… You are lecturing the wrong guy,” he tossed his hands up in surrender. “Just because I want you to be mine, doesn't mean I don’t want you to have a mind of your own.”

You fluttered your lashes at his words, your beautiful puffy eyes shimmering in the evening sun.

“You want me to be only yours.”

“I think I’ve been abundantly clear.”

Nanami gazed at you, from your lips to your nose to your ears to your neck. His mouth was slightly agape with a dumb smile, the wrinkles on his face making the best of appearances.

“Well then…” you shrugged. “I want you to be mine only.”

“Okay,” he laughed.

“So… I don’t want you to ever so much as think of any other woman, not even to look at her.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t want you masturbating either, especially not watching porn or any other… websites.”

“Alright.”

“And you WILL text me good morning.”

“No texting,” he stopped you. “If my phone was ever checked…”

“Then get another phone,” you lifted your chin, cocky as ever. “I want to be able to text you.”

Nanami breathed in deeply, but the dumb smile you had painted on his face was a giveaway on how easily he was to fold under you.

“Okay.”

“Okay!” You cheered. “So, I want you to text me good morning every day, and goodnight also.”

“Anything else?” Nanami teased.

“A picture of you half-awake would be nice.”

Nanami laughed quietly, stood up, and offered you his hand.

“If we don’t want each other masturbating, we’d better not be sending each other pictures.”

“Right, okay.”

Your hand - small and delicate - was enveloped in Nanami’s venous hands. He held you firmly, helping you to stand and giving you the crutches.

“What class did you have now?” he asked as he guided you up the bleachers.

“Algebra two, why?”

“I’ll speak with Ms. Bridge; I’ll tell her you feel unwell and that I’m taking you home.”

“But my mother is working.”

“We’re not going to your house,” he smiled. “We’re going to study at mine.”

Whatever you had imagined his house to be like, when Nanami opened the door to his apartment, your jaw fell to the ground. Dark wooden floors, tall grey ceilings, black stone accents, and a window gallery that panned all over the Tokyo hills. He walked through the entrance with elegance, taking off his silver watch while you stood frozen by the door.

“What kind of money are they paying you at the school?” you murmured.

“I bought this house when I worked in accounting,” Nanami laughed, offering you his hand. “I managed to save a lot, plus I am an only child.”

You moved slowly with your crutches; Nanami studied you for a brief second, walked over, grabbed your crutches, and lifted you up with ease - the muscles on his back trying to rip his shirt open. You laughed nervously and giddy as he wrapped you up in his arms, holding onto his neck and resting your cheeks against his hair.

“This is the kitchen,” he said as he carried you around.

“Boujee...”

“This is the bathroom.”

“Cute.”

“This is the study room where you’ll spend most of your time.”

You looked around briefly. Wooden bookshelves, tons of encyclopedias, framed diplomas, and a multitude of titles from his old company. The desk chair was padded, comfortable.

“And this is my room.”

He tried to show it to you briefly, but you grabbed the doorframe before he could leave. The room was modern but simple, with an immense bed with a pressed bedspread and a wooden headboard. You imagined Nanami’s hands smashing the headboard while he smashed you.

“I imagine we’ll spend quite a bit of time here too?”

Nanami looked at you briefly, you and your lips. Then he held you tighter and looked away.

“Today we are here to study.”

He carried you to the living room, dropping you onto the couch with the softness of a feather. You caught the intoxicating manly scent of his neck skin; he caught the nerve-wracking softness of your upper thighs.

Needless to say, you didn't need to move a finger around Nanami.

He did everything as he pleased while you remained like a princess on his sofa, organizing your books on the coffee table, setting up a tray so you could write better, serving you a cold juice and some chocolate pastries.

You were his; he needed to treat you well.

Besides, he would never admit it, but having you in his house had made the teacher more nervous than he expected.

To tell the truth, he didn't feel capable of controlling his impulses, and he feared the desire he had to fuck you would interfere with your goals. So he kept away from the sofa, busy with his laptop at his kitchen island while you studied.

Thank god, forty minutes of pure silence and page-turning passed before you dared to speak up.

“Do you have any trips planned for the summer holidays?”

“Come again?” he said, looking up from his book.

“Are you going anywhere?”

Nanami took off his glasses and rested them on the counter. Your eyes sparkled. How handsome could a man be?.

“I’m visiting my parents at their house in the countryside,” he said. “Age is not forgiving, but my father still insists on fixing the garden by himself.”

Your chest stirred, seeing the open door Nanami left into his world.

“How old are they?”

“Eighty-six and eighty-eight.”

“You must miss them quite a bit…” you murmured with sorrow, resting the pencil on your books.

“I’ve been used to being alone for a long time,” he said. “But I call my mother every week; I ask her questions to exercise her mind.”

You pushed the tray aside, stood up, and limped to the other side of his kitchen island.

“Why have you been alone for so long?” you asked with curiosity. “How long has it been since you had a partner?”

Nanami had a small smile on his face. He looked toward the ceiling, pensive, and loosened his tie.

“I must have been… about twenty years old?” he mused with that weathered voice. “I don’t know, approximately… Yes, twenty-four years old, I was interning at a consultancy.”

“What was she like?” you asked with feigned indifference. “What happened to make it end?”

Nanami laughed quietly and looked at you with narrowed eyes, resting his forearms on the counter.

“Why do you want to know all this? I hardly think it benefits this conversation.”

“It benefits me,” you smiled with a rising jealousy. “They say men who go for young girls do it because they have deficiencies that only women their age can see.”

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded confidently. “I’ve heard that too, and I agree.”

“So? What is your deficiency Mr…?”

Nanami rolled his eyes and sighed softly, pushing aside his laptop to give you all his attention.

“I fell in love with money.”

At his answer, you arched your eyebrows in a skeptical grimace.

Nanami laughed louder. He loved every little thing about your stubborn yet obedient personality; he had found his own oxymoron.

“The woman I dated worked as a secretary for my boss. I was twenty-four and she had just turned forty-one…”

Your scandalous exhale interrupted Nanami.

“Less laughing,” he reproached you, pointing at you and then at himself. “We have the same age difference.”

“Ah, yes,” you murmured with flushed cheeks. “Keep going…”

“She had just come out of a divorce with two children in common, and she wanted to relive her youth with me. In the end, I got better jobs and was swallowed by the world of finance and the infinite salary ladder; I became ambitious and lost myself in the process. She dumped me because she wanted to live life to the fullest, and now I have fallen in the same lane.”

There was a brief silence.

“So, am I your way of feeling young again?”

“No,” Nanami spoke colder. “I became a teacher to surround myself with that youth I so longed for. I never liked young girls in particular; I’ve never noticed a student… I suppose I’ve had the bad luck of running into you.”

“On a webcam page?” you grinned.

Nanami laughed out loud, his ears turned bright red.

“Are you going anywhere for the summer?” he asked in a pitiful attempt to change the subject.

“You know what,” you chuckled. “I'll let you have it this time.”

“Are you going anywhere for the summer?” he repeated with a glimmer in his eyes as he studied your cheeky smile.

“We don’t have a penny,” you shrugged. “This year I’ll settle for bathing in the municipal pool.”

Another silence came to the apartment. The reality of knowing that you two could never be together outside of these four walls. No picnics, no dinners, no trips. Nanami’s chest tightened thinking that he couldn't give you everything he wanted to offer you. You, on the other hand, felt a tickle in your stomach thinking about spending the rest of your life in that beautiful apartment with that piece of a man.

“Have you ever been out of the country?” you asked him with admiration.

“Only once.”

“Where to?”

“Do you know where Kuantan is?” he tested, always looking for a chance to hear that smart mind of yours.

It only took you a couple of seconds.

“Malaysia?” you answered, and he nodded with a satisfied grin.

You held onto the counter and circled the kitchen island until you were positioned beside him. You asked for space, taking over his place in front of the laptop. Nanami was signing up for a new phone line.

“What do you want?” he said, his voice behind you.

You didn't answer, opening a new tab and searching for Kuantan on Google.

“Woah… It’s beautiful.”

You heard a soft laugh against the crown of your head, and suddenly a throbbing heat enveloped you. Your teacher's muscled torso leaned against your back. His hip pressed against your waist. His arms appeared over your shoulders. His hands found the laptop mouse.

“You know, in Malaysia they have the tallest twin towers in the world; in fact, they were the tallest buildings in the world until 2004… And this right here? It’s called a rafflesia… It’s the largest flower in the world.”

“Rafflesia…” you murmured attentively, searching for it on Google. “A meter in diameter?!”

“Yes…” he chuckled.

You lifted your hands to measure before you. Nanami grabbed your hands with an enveloping care, making you spread your arms to a meter exactly.

Caged between him and the kitchen counter, you leaned your head back against his chest, closed your eyes, and breathed in.

He could see your smiling cheeks. His whole body tensed at the thought of giving you any new information for you to retain, at the thought of seeing you so calm and content.

Before he could stop himself - although the morals as to why were long gone and forgotten - he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead.

His lips were just as soft as his voice tone.

The electricity made you jolt.

Slowly, cautiously, you released your hands and turned on your heels. Now your back pressed against the counter, your chest against his.

Facing you, Nanami stopped breathing calmly and a tremor shook his massive body.

“Are you okay?” you murmured.

“Yeah…” his voice failed him. “I want you to study today.”

“And I am studying,” you pursed your lips. “I only got distracted for a second.”

“I know,” he nodded.

To tell the truth, Nanami feared this proximity.

He wanted to show you that he was a gentleman and that he really cared about your academic future, but having you so close - finally - he realized how difficult it was going to be not to fuck you every instant you were alone.

At least on this first day of studies, he needed to prove to you that his intentions were pure, despite the fact that he had already imagined you naked on the counter, bouncing off his cock while he left a trail of dark hickeys around your swollen boobs.

Yeah, he'd fuck you good. He'd make you lose your virginity to a slow and careful gentleman for as long as you needed it to, until the day you'd come back asking for more, politely begging for him to speed up, dig deeper, and make it messier. He was eager to ruin and rebuild, to have you filled with everything he had to offer.

But in order to satisfy, he needed to demonstrate.

You.

And himself.

So, to regain a sense of control over his life, he placed one arm to each side of your body, trapping you beneath him.

Your eyes widened, cheeks blushing with a nervous giggle. Nanami laughed too, although it sounded more like a desperate moan.

His massive body lowered to your height. His hazel gaze danced between your eyes and your lips.

You arched your back, standing on your tiptoes.

Nanami moved one of his hands to your neck, lifted your chin, licked his lips, and dived in onto yours.

Soft, gentle, warm.

The kiss made you both tremble. A soft sigh escaping his throat.

Needy, desperate, insane.

His cock twitched with greed, trying to reclaim the little girl he deserved to bury into. But Nanami had something to prove. Sex could wait, as long as it meant earning your trust.

So he kissed you deeper, pressing you against the counter. His mouth opened, tongue caressing your lips and entering ever so slightly, drinking in the wetness of your mouth.

He moaned again, kissed you softly, and managed to pull away. Proving to himself a very important fact: he was still a gentleman.

You were left starving like a stray cat, eyes half-open and a piteous moan while you pushed up on your tiptoes.

“Keep studying,” he murmured with the filthiest of voices. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

If his parents could hear the laughter that filled their son’s apartment, they would be able to breathe deeper than ever before.

¿How long had it been since Nanami’s house had felt like a home? ¿Cuándo fue la última vez que hubo más de una luz encendida? Ni siquiera él se hacía esas preguntas; estaba demasiado relajado, intoxicado por ti.

“The lady grabbed my luggage before i could even answer and she booked it running across the station while telling me to keep up. There were a few times i thought she was going to steal it from me, but she did make it to the restaurant i was looking for, so i invited her to eat with me”

“And she accepted?”

“Duh! Why would she not accept free food!?”

Your voice danced with Nanami’s in a whisper between the walls. His television was on, paused on the YouTube search bar after a session of showing each other the different shows you used to watch as kids. The overhead light was turned off, only three fake candles lighting your face, along with the dim light from the range hood and the distant glow emanating from his study.

You were sitting on your teacher's sofa, barefoot, both legs tucked onto the cushions and covered by a blanket so you wouldn't catch a chill in your short uniform skirt. You couldn't stop talking, sliding over the ice of a rink without reproaches, rules, or prejudices. And Nanami couldn't stop listening to you; he wasn't used to someone talking so much to him - to Nanami, not to Mr. Kento.

He was sitting at the other end of the sofa, leaned back against the headrest with his legs crossed and his arms open in comfort. His eyes sparkled, and the wrinkles on his face framed a wide, trembling smile that accompanied the reverberation in his chest.

“I get the feeling there’s more to the story…”

“In the end, the lady took me to eat at the roof of the station, which in a way I’m super grateful for because I wouldn't have seen those views, but I have awful vertigo… And of course, she didn't understand me very well, so I was there half about to faint and the lady thought everything was perfect… Anyway, we ended up eating together on the roof, then she walked me to the taxi and told the man the address of my hotel. And just as I was about to get in the taxi and we were saying goodbye, she suddenly takes off her earrings and gives them to me”

“Excuse me?” Nanami laughed quietly, his Adam's apple bobbing almost mockingly.

You licked your lips, a mixture of laughter and pleasure coursing through you at the mere sight of him so relaxed and at your mercy.

“And of course… I panicked because I didn't have anything to give her in return, so I gave her my ring.”

“The one you had just bought as a souvenir?” Nanami leaned forward, astonished.

“Yes!”

“MC!” he exhaled. “Are y…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” you tried to excuse yourself. “At least a good story to tell came out of it.”

Nanami rubbed his face, sighed, and looked at you as if you were the very reason the earth spun.

You - blushing and giddy - shrugged, riding out the echo of your chuckles.

A couple of seconds later, Nanami looked at the time on his phone.

“Don’t say it,” you murmured with puppy-dog eyes.

“I told you that you’d be home by nine,” he weighed.

You didn't want to go home, obviously.

“Let me spend the night here,” you begged.

Nanami laughed at you.

“And what excuse would you give your innocent mother?”

“Any,” you shrugged. “She won’t care; she’ll probably get home from work very late and won't even remember.”

Nanami rested a hand on his cheek. He didn't seem to be contemplating letting you stay, but the small smile on his face showed that he liked your resilience. After all, he had admired that about you since long before needing you deeper.

“And how would you manage to go to school tomorrow?” he asked. “Not in my car, that’s for certain”

“You see, there’s this thing called Google Maps… It tells me what bus to get,” you grinned from his couch.

“And what clothes will you wear?”

“My uniform?” you asked mockingly.

Nanami’s smile grew wider and he tilted his head in a rare playful manner.

“With the same underwear as today?”

Your cheeks flushed.

“Of course not.”

“You intend to go to school with used clothes and dirty panties,” he egged you on.

“I can go without panties,” you shrugged. “I know a couple of teachers who would like to see that.”

Nanami took a deep, heavy breath. Every fiber of his body heated up with a mixture of need and jealousy.

“Don’t make those jokes in front of me,” his voice fell to a deeper tone.

You raised your eyebrows but paid him no mind, grabbed your phone and started texting.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off.”

“I’m texting my mom,” you gave him an annoyed voice. “I’m spending the night.”

“No, you are not.”

Nanami rose from his seat, looming over you with the height of a skyscraper and suffocatingly strong thighs.

You couldn't help but look at him as he walked toward you, and something woke up between your legs seeing how he positioned himself in front of the sofa and crossed his arms. His pectorals looked like breasts ready to nurse, his nipples hard beneath his shirt.

“I’m taking you home.”

“I’m staying here.”

“Stop it with that attitude, young lady,” he murmured. “You have school tomorrow, we have school tomorrow. I have tons of exams to grade and you need to rest. Remember our rules.”

“I do remember your rules, Mr. Kento,” you said, curled into a small ball on his sofa. “No sex in class, no sex in tutoring lessons, and no texting.”

“So get up, missy.” Nanami offered you his hand, thunder legs spread hip-distance apart. “Let’s go.”

You huffed, but you were far from giving up. Truthfully, you had already won; no matter how much Nanami tried to maintain a false adult sanity, you could already see how his cock pressed against the zipper of his trousers. To be honest, that dormant erection had been bothering him since you arrived at his house.

It was his greatest shame.

You stood up carefully, helping yourself with your teacher's forearms. Trapped between the sofa and his tall figure, you looked up through your lashes and smiled in that way only you could.

Nanami threw his head back and swallowed hard.

“I’m taking you home,” he murmured, though one hand was already lingering on your hip.

“Please…” you murmured, stroking his chest. “Our tutorial is already over, I already studied… Just as you asked.”

Nanami clenched his jaw and bit his lower lip while your hands pressed against his nipples. How could a man so big, elegant, and serious melt under the hands of his small student?

“What do you want from me, honey,” he whispered, one hand caressing your face. “Whatever it is, I can’t give it to you today.”

“Why not?” Your hands stroked his side and hugged him,then you pressed your cheek against his padded chest. Nanami hugged you back, engulfing you completely in his heat and protection. One of his venous hands carefully untangled the knots in your hair; the other drew circles on your nape.

“It’s Tuesday… Tomorrow we have class, and you have a Spanish club meeting, isn't that right?” he murmured against the crown of your head. “There are still many days until the weekend; I can’t let you arrive at class un-rested and bothered.”

“What do you mean?” you asked with feigned innocence.

Nanami buried his fingers in your hair, tangled them, and pulled gently, forcing you to look at him. You could feel the heavy thumping of his heart against your chest and the pulse of his erection against your belly. His soft voice hit you hard.

“If you want to be able to walk tomorrow, you’d better not let me touch you.”

Despite his warning and the darkness lurking on his face, you gave your teacher a sweet, gentle smile.

“Is that how hard you want to fuck me?” you murmured from his chest.

He stroked your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “Not hard,” he murmured. “But definitely all the way in.”

Surprisingly, Nanami showed more temperance than you expected to have to tear down. You felt how horny he was, yet he treated you with delicacy and went no further. The perfect match for someone as persevering as you.

“Do you think I'll come?”

“Not the first time,” he murmured. “I’ll try to make you comfortable, but it is naturally unlikely, as you will need to get used to it.”

“I like to rub my clit… Maybe that could work.”

A crack broke Nanami’s façade as he breathed in a shaky inhale. He had to look away, giving you the perfect opportunity.

“What about you? Is there something you particularly like?” you murmured while your hands roamed his waist. “How can I do something to return all this care?”

“N-No, you don’t need to do anything…” he stuttered. “I don’t help you for something in return.”

You smiled when your hands found his erect nipples; you fluttered your lashes at your teacher, licked your lips, and brought your mouth to those small mounds covered by the fabric of his shirt.

Nanami shuddered and held your shoulders with a tight grip, but allowed you to drench his shirt with your warm breath. You knew it was game over when his hips buckled up involuntarily, pressing against your belly button.

“I need to take you home…” he hissed. “Right now”

You bit his nipple, then leaned back to look at him straight.

“And I need you to fuck me” you nodded. “Like right now”

Nanami took a deep breath and held it in. You smiled, he swallowed, and his last coherent words slipped in a ragged breath.

“Put your lipgloss on”

The air became static, giving you shocks with every movement.

You were quick, grabbing your school bag and rummaging through your makeup pouch. You put on the clear gloss while seeing out of the corner of your eye how your professor unbuttoned his shirt. When you looked at him again, so small and with a bright glittery smile, Nanami narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“Good girl”

He lunged at you with reckless care, wrapping his arms around you and letting his lips fall onto yours with a desperate moan. His tongue violated the entrance to your mouth, forcing you open to let all his saliva intoxicate you.

While your professor ensured your entire mouth smelled like him, his large hands wasted no time: massaging your thighs and searching under your skirt for that thin string you now wore only for him.

“The skirt stays on” he whispered in your mouth as he pulled your thong down, a couple of soft spanks awakening your pitiful moans. “If I am ever too rough, please let me know”

All you could do was nod submissively as your teacher made haste. He took his shirt off, but he didn’t allow you to see him with the absolute chaos he was causing to your mouth: kissing, biting, and sucking while his hands massaged their way up between your thighs.

“Let me feel how wet you are…” he whispered.

“Let me see you” you whispered back, pushing away from his kiss.

He leaned back just enough for you to admire his naked torso full of squared sharp lines and a skin too veiny not to suck on it. Nanami saw you look, drool over him, then he smiled and his index finger found the center of your pussy, pushing it side to side. You flinched at his mercy, and he laughed quietly at the wet sound his movements were causing.

“Good girl…” he hissed. “Are you this wet for me all the time? Even in class?”

“Specially in class” you smiled back.

His finger shoved inside you, he hooked it in and pulled you to him, pressing you against his chest and wrapping his other arm around your head.

“Promise you will only be this naughty with me” he cooed as he pumped into you. “And I promise I will take very good care of you”

“I promise” you whimpered, suffocating against his chest. “I promise”

“Good girl” His hands tangled your hair and pulled you back, sitting you down against the sofa. “Lean back, relax”

Nanami kneeled on his carpeted floor, opening your legs like a flower and pulling your uniform skirt over your belly. Leaving you open and on display.

“Jesus christ” he hissed at the sight of your swollen cunt, and although his mind had other plans, his hand unbuckled his pants and set free his cock to relieve the burden you were causing.

You watched in awe as your teacher fisted himself before you. His cock was huge. And although you expected it, you weren’t sure if you were ready for such thickness.

Anyway, backing up was for pussies.

Nanami grabbed his cock fiercely, giving it short tugs at the tip while he held his breath. He spat on his other hand, but instead of fingering you, he placed three digits over your clit and started rubbing sideways.

Seeing your loud reaction was enough to make him cum, so he stopped touching himself.

“What a responsive little girl” he mocked you.

“Fuck you” you hissed between squirms.

Nanami raised an annoyed eyebrow, lifted his hand only to make it fall over your cunt with a nasty slap.

“Watch your mouth, love” he spat.

You cried out loud, only for your teacher to go back to caressing your clit in a lovingly manner.

“Put it in”

“You’re not ready” he wiggled a couple fingers around your entrance, using you like his favorite testing doll. “Not even close”

“Just put it in” you whined.

“You’re not… ready…” Nanami crawled closer between your legs and pressed his thumb at the base of his cock, laying it flat against your slit. “Look at it and tell me you are ready”

You obeyed his orders, but weren’t able to hold your head up as he started to rub up and down with his veiny dick.

“Jesus christ” he moaned, relishing at the wet grinding sounds of his skin against yours. You moaned loudly, loving how the warmth of his cock rubbed all up and down your soft cunt. He was right, with that size he’d probably leave you limping for days, but you were too swollen, bouncy and needy to think straight.

“I'm ready” you cried. “Please, put it in”

“Please?”

“Pretty please”

Nanami laughed quietly over your shivering body, leaned his hip back, pushed his shaft and guided the tip between your folds with a restrained pace.

He opened you slowly, reading how your body tensed and how your breathing caught. He entered just a few inches, then stopped to let you breathe.

“Good girl, love”

He leaned back again, pulled it out slightly, then pushed in a little deeper. He was trying to be gentle, though he curled his lips like it pained him greatly to do so.

“You are t-taking it so well” he hissed as he pulled back out. “Does it hurt?”

“L-…Little” you moaned. “But it f…feels… good”

Nanami shuddered, leaned down over you, rubbed his cock on your clit and pushed back in. This time he didn’t stop at an acceptable length. He caged your face with his forearms, pressed his forehead against yours, and curled up his body to thrust into you one last time: thick, long and veiny.

You felt him completely, painfully stretching you all the way to your stomach. The pain and the shock made you stop breathing, and you opened your mouth wide as you tried to take him in.

Nanami saw it all.

The tense reaction of your body, the goosebumps on your skin and the small wrinkle of pain you had on your pretty face.

He knew in that moment, his next move would make this the best or the worst experience of your life. He knew he could be gentle and treat you like the soft little princess you were, but also knew, a straight-A student that touched herself for men online could only have a broader, crazier and daring vision of what sex could be like.

You were his good obeying girl, and he knew you’d like to be used like one.

So, as he saw you clenched and shocked, he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead only to spit in your open mouth with the filthiest of looks.

“Be the brave girl I know you are” his hips buckled backwards, then he thrusted deep inside. “I'm going to fuck the pretty out of you”

His words spurred you on, sending jolts of electricity up your legs towards the middle of your cunt, where your swollen entrance started pulsing with renewed heat.

The next thing you knew, your head was pressed between the couch pillows and Nanami’s huge body pumped in and out your little hole until the pain became a juicy bolt of pleasure that made you moan louder and louder.

Not even five minutes later, Nanami huffed in a whimpering moan and stopped, pulling out of you and steadying himself with his hands on your knees.

“W-What?” you whined.

“If I do one more I'm going to cum” he hissed, avoiding to touch his bouncing cock. “Jesus christ…”

You arched your back for him and rubbed your clit in circles.

“C’mon…”

“Give me a minute” he hissed, forehead sweaty and balls tight as ever. “You feel too good”

“C’mon grandpa…” you mocked him. “Are you truly that old?”

Your comment made his face darken, hitting the deepest insecurities of a man in love with a girl half his age.

His eyes cut the air between you two, making you feel small and all of a sudden very endangered.

He didn’t say another word, curling his lips in anger and pushing your knees open. Not once did he break eye contact, spitting on your cunt and thrusting back into it.

His angered eyes were glued to yours, focused on every move, focused on not cumming. He fucked you deep and at a steady rhythm, rubbing quickly over your clit.

Fuck, he made you squirm in a way that wrapped his cock nice and velvety, but he focused on not cumming, on making you suffer with every inch of his shaft, on making sure you coated, and coated, and coated him in white.

The echoes of your wet reaction could be heard outside his doorstep. How your pussy drenched him in clear need that was dripping down your butt cheeks to his sofa, and was staining the mound of his veiny cock.

Yeah, he fucked you too good. The slaps of his balls spurring your butt, his thumb mocking your swollen little bud without shame.

“Say that again” he hissed between his teeth. “Mock me again, if you can”

But of course, you couldn’t.

You could feel your teacher's cock filling you and making it impossible for your lungs to fully breathe. You could feel his circling finger and the waves of pleasure that were ripping through you. You wanted to cum, you needed to cum, yet the orgasm waves came rocking but his cock - too big and spacious - wouldn’t allow it.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he mocked your whimpers, thrusting into you with a nasty pace. You nodded between moans.

“Then don’t mock me, ever again” he hissed. “Understood?”

“Y-Yes, y-yes”

His face softened, his eyes relaxed and his lips grew a soft smile. He leaned his head back and breathed out.

“Good girl”

His cock buried inside you one last time, then he backed up and out of you, freeing you from the torment, allowing the cascades of your orgasm to fully wash you over.

Your pussy clenched, your belly was finally able to stretch, and a wave of squirt splashed all over him.

You cried out loud, your body trembled and squirmed, though Nanami’s hands didn’t allow you to fall off the couch while you stained his coffee table, his carpet and his pillows.

You came so hard, he filled you so greatly and ruined your inside so pitifully, that you didn’t know if the liquid that poured as you shook was piss, cum, or simply the remnants of his constant pumping. All you knew is you couldn’t form a word, shivering and shaking.

“My very good girl…” Nanami climbed onto the couch and cradled your face with one hand; with the other hand he was pumping his huge cock.

He leaned close to your flistered face, and you - good girl of very naughty intentions - opened your mouth wide for him.

Your teacher smiled between gritted teeth, pressed the tip of his cock against your tongue, and filled his living room with your name as the jets of his cum hit the back of your throat.

Night fell in Nanami’s mind before it did for the rest of the world. A dark sky void of clouds, Tokyo’s pollution hiding the stars, the murmur of cars passing in front of his apartment’s glass gallery, and the soft jazz music his upstairs neighbor was listening to - Nanami was alert to everything, guilty as a thief waiting for the police after leaving a trail at the crime scene.

The teacher was sitting on his sofa with the apartment lights completely off, his back hunched over his knees. With one hand he rubbed his forehead, with the other he gripped your file from the archives, and with both heels, he tapped the floor over and over.

Anxious.

Hangover.

Once again, having lost his composure with you had turned his stomach in the worst possible way.

Nanami huffed to calm his nerves, swallowed hard to blur the image of you he couldn't get out of his head, looked at the file again, huffed, picked up his phone, dialed the number appearing on it, and took a deep breath.

The line signaled; the beep reverberated in the darkness of his living room once.

And he hung up.

The teacher straightened his back so more air could enter his lungs, ran his fingers through his hair, and saw you in his mind - cheeks softly flushed, needy, alone, and bruised - and he called again.

Two beeps.

A familiar voice rose on the other end of the line.

Nanami’s broad shoulders tensed, his gaze fixed on the city lights beyond the glass wall of his apartment - phone pressed to his ear.

“Mrs. Sohma, yes… It’s Mr. Kento, yes… sorry to bother you at this hour.”

Your mother got excited on the other end of the phone, drifting off into several tangents.

“I won't bother you any longer, I just wanted to know how MC was,” despite the calmness of his voice, Nanami’s leg wouldn't stop drumming against the floor. “She seemed quite upset.”

Your mother answered - as always - minimizing your problems. Nanami twisted his lips in disapproval, but then your mother said the magic words.

“…Wait, I’ll put her on…”

Nanami stood up from the sofa, one hand on his hip.

“…Honey, it’s your teacher.”

There was a scuffle at the mobile’s microphone, a change of hands, a brief silence, and then your precious voice echoed in Nanami’s living room.

“Hello?”

Nanami licked his lips to soothe the dry mouth you caused him.

He saw you naked, legs spread for him in the back of the locker rooms, with his hands directing every reaction of your body. He saw you with your chest swollen and your nipples screaming for him to take them into his mouth.

He imagined you in your green pajamas, innocent and calm, trapped in that madhouse; he saw you smiling, fragile, and longing for a man like him to rescue you.

“Hello…?”

“MC… How are you?” he sighed your name carefully. “How do you feel?”

“G-Good…”

“Alone?”

“More or less.”

“Take your phone,” Nanami ordered in a grave, deep, loaded voice. “Save my number, I need to talk to you.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then a scuffle at the mic.

“No problem, tomorrow I’ll be able to walk normally already,” you feigned on the other end of the line. “Thanks for helping me, teacher.”

A smile played on Nanami’s lips; his shoulders relaxed.

“Good girl.”

He heard a sigh on the other end of the line, more mic rustling, and your mother’s voice brought him back to reality. He had to converse with her for several more minutes, aware that he was giving her reason to think there could be something between them, until he hung up.

As silly as a teenager, a small smile formed on Nanami’s face.

He breathed deeply, rubbed his face, and let himself fall against the back of the sofa. His whole body - tall and large - seemed to react to every shred of attention you gave him.

He had barely relaxed when a ding illuminated the silence of his living room.

He looked at the message from afar, memorizing the numbers of that unknown phone.

An angel face emoji.

He had no choice but to huff with humor. Unsure if you were a fallen angel or a demon ready to take him to heaven. Either way, it was too late to turn back; he didn't want to, you didn't want to, and he had already left a mark on your body in the filthiest way he knew.

Heavens, just thinking about it gave him goosebumps.

He believed himself to be a man of refined tastes and polite gestures… But to let you know he wanted you, he couldn't think of anything else but spitting on your cunt?

What had gone through his head?

He sighed, picked up the phone, and wrote to you cautiously.

“Call me when you are alone and available.”

“Okkk.”

This time, it was Nanami who was left like a puppy wagging its tail.

Your teacher knew firsthand how busy you were, how full your plate was. He wanted to provide you with peace and lift the burden from your shoulders… He was aware of it, and yet, he struggled not to grow impatient as the minutes turned into hours and you didn't call.

Nanami was a man of stable temperament - except with you - and although he maintained his composure as if he needed to put on appearances in the privacy of his home, you buzzed through his subconscious like a persistent fly.

He had time to shower, make dinner - he didn't masturbate - pour himself a glass of white wine, read one hundred and twelve pages of his book on quantum dynamics, brush his teeth, get into bed - checking the mobile screen more and more frequently - and stayed reading the newspaper on his ipad until, finally, his phone’s ringtone made him jump amidst the sheets.

He picked up with extreme speed.

“I’m sorry…” your silent, mournful voice made his chest tighten. “I had to hel—”

“It’s okay,” Nanami interrupted you. “I don’t want to be one more thing you have to stress about.”

Your silent laugh - hidden under the sheets - made Nanami arch his back, propping himself up against his headboard.

“No stress, i promise prof.”

“Good, Good,” Nanami replied, and then there was a small silence on the line, both with a shy smile against the microphone.

“Did you want to talk to me?”

“I wanted to apologize for… my behavior today.”

With Nanami’s words, and the torrid moment they recalled, both of you closed your legs in your respective beds.

“No… It’s my fault Mr… I didn't know how to control myself, I suppose… Well, it surprised me that… I was happy to know these feelings weren´t my imagination.”

You laughed shyly; Nanami sighed with humor - and something much hotter.

“I am never going to demand that you control yourself with me,” he whispered into the phone. “It is my duty as an adult to let you know when it is not appropriate, and when it is.”

“And when will it be appropriate?” you murmured innocently.

Nanami hunched over the bed, gripped the phone tightly, and with his other hand he grabbed his cock over his pajamas to relieve the need you caused him.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, MC,” Nanami said. “If you want to continue… exploring this… I have to impose a couple of rules.”

“You’re joking.”

“Don’t talk back to me,” he growled in a raspy voice. You straightened up in the darkness of your room.

“Sorry… Sorry…”

“You’re a clever girl, I don't need to explain to you everything it would imply if someone found out about this,” Nanami said. “So for the sake of my job and your future, we must stick to the rules, understood?”

“Yes.”

“First rule: no approaches within the school grounds. Second rule: no approaches during our private tutoring sessions; your university entrance exams are just around the corner. Third rule: no exchanging private messages by phone; any conversation will be purely telephonic.”

On the other end of the line, your eyes were wide as saucers and one hand was open in confusion.

“And when are we supposed to…?”

“My house,” he answered with discipline. “As long as your schedule is free; I wouldn't want you to leave behind your obligations for this.”

You let out a laugh.

“Is that how it’s done once you pass thirty?”

Nanami’s eyes went wide and he sat bolt upright in bed.

“Come again?”

“Rules, schedules, locations… I don't know… It sounds very… anticlimactic.”

“It is safe, MC,” Nanami’s voice rose with authority.

“But it’s not what you want,” you whispered into the phone. “Not what either of us wants.”

Nanami narrowed his eyes with amusement.

“Are you clear on what I want?”

“I have an idea,” you smiled on the other end of the phone. “I think it’s similar to what I want.”

Nanami rubbed his face, hiding behind his hand to endure the truth his lips were about to release.

“What I desire, unfortunately, I cannot - I must not - make a reality.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you are capable of keeping silent.”

“I know how to keep a secret,” you snapped back.

“That’s not what I mean.”

Your teacher’s low, crawling voice left you speechless.

Both of you stayed still, phone in hand and sheets growing warmer.

“Try me,” you challenged him.

Nanami closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

He breathed deeply to try and organize the chaos of his mind.

He wanted to cling to discipline and duty, but your voice rose again on the other end of the phone, as filthy as it was innocent, slapping at his most distasteful manly needs.

“Put me to the test, teacher.”

Nanami let out his breath and got out of bed abruptly. He walked to the window of his room, eyes fixed on the city lights, and whispered into the phone with that raspy voice of his.

“Put your hand inside your pants,” he ordered you harshly. “Don’t touch yourself yet, just study the area; tell me how you are.”

You obeyed in silence.

Nanami remained standing in front of the window, one hand on his hip - serious and disciplined like a businessman on the most important call of his career.

“Not too wet,” you lied.

Nanami smiled on the other end of the line; it took more than that to deceive a man as expert as he was. Even so, he gave you the satisfaction of winning.

“Do you want me to change that?”

“Mmmh-h,” you purred.

Nanami clicked his tongue and walked along the edge of his window, dazed by the filthiness of your voice. You were probably already touching yourself without his permission; after all, you were young and full of hormones.

And although he didn't like the thought of you having to relieve yourself on your own, it turned him on greatly to think that you were insatiable, that he could fuck you several times in a single night.

“I want you to hold back without putting a finger in yet,” he whispered. “Can you do that?”

You nodded again with a gulp, impatient.

“Good girl…” Nanami smiled, walking from one side to the other with a member becoming increasingly and uncomfortably hard. “Tell me, how do you like to do it to yourself?”

“Depends… If there are people at home, my hand is enough,” you murmured impatiently. “But I have several toys, though they’re a bit noisy.”

“Toys?” Nanami laughed, stroking his crotch.

“What’s your problem with toys?” you hesitated. “Are you not—”

“Toys are for unsatisfied women,” he barked. “If you had a real man by your side, you wouldn't need toys.”

You shrank back into the sheets, suddenly very aware of the generation your teacher belonged to.

He was a hypocrite, yes. But in his mind, the toy he kept in his nightstand was different from you letting yourself be fucked by insolent and incapable men.

“Come on prof… It’s about having variety.”

“Variety?” he laughed. “I’m sure no one has a collection of small penises… It’s not variety, it’s necessity; most of the boys your age aren't yet developed physically or mentally.”

“I wouldn't know,” you confessed under the sheets.

Nanami stopped in his living room.

His hazel eyes looked from one side to the other.

“What do you mean,” he said with tense shoulders.

You laughed, embarrassed.

“That I wouldn't know how the guys my age measure.”

“W-What?” Nanami rubbed his cheek. “Guys my age, then?”

“Neither,” you laughed again. “Well, you gave me a clue.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Nanami exhaled and his legs weakened, slowly kneeling in the darkness of his living room while you laughed on the other end of the line. He grabbed his cock with one hand, bowed his head, and muttered a prayer.

“But I’ve put things inside,” you excused yourself between giggles.

“Of course you have,” he sighed with a broken voice.

He wasn't sure if he liked the fact that no other man had touched you before, or hated the fact that he was going to have to be twice as careful.

“You put me in a bind, you know?” he murmured from the floor.

“And why is that?”

“Because that means you won't enjoy it as much as I will,” Nanami rubbed his forehead. “Heavens… That’s why you seemed so tight…”

“…I’m telling you I’ve already put things inside…!” you grumbled. “Isn't that… isn't that what you men want?”

“Well, yes, but no. I want you to enjoy it, and although tight is good, too tight is bad. I want you to enjoy my cock so much that you are wide open, wet, and slippery.”

“Jeez…” you murmured, surprised. “That mouth, teacher.”

Nanami laughed silently.

In the darkness of his living room, one couldn't see how red his ears were, but the massive bulge between his legs was evident.

“Don’t use that card with me, gorgeous; I’m being polite enough,” he said while his hand squeezed his erection.

Your fingers began to draw circles over your clit.

“Does it seem like good manners to spit on my cunt?” you dared to murmur. “Forcing me to walk with your saliva between my legs?”

Nanami breathed deeply. His patience and restraint were vanishing completely.

To tell the truth, he had waited long enough. He deserved this for having been a good boy.

“But you liked it, didn’t you?” he hissed. “What did you do when you got home from the tournament?”

“I tidied a couple of things and took a shower.”

“And did you masturbate before, during, or after the shower?”

“During,” your smile could be heard through the line. “That way I don't cause such a mess.”

Nanami’s body trembled. His hand gave a final tug at his cock, found the button of his pants, and slipped in over his boxers.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to soak my sheets…”

“Depends on how well you do it, doesn't it?”

Nanami laughed in a grave voice. He got up from the floor and walked to his sofa. He lowered his pants slowly down the muscles of his legs until they pooled at his ankles. Then, he sat on the couch, legs spread open and a huge cock fighting against the restraint of his grey boxers.

“If you want to get me to brag about my skills between the sheets, you won't succeed,” he smiled into the phone, his hand stroking the cotton between his legs. “I’d rather talk about other things.”

“What,” you laughed. “Like the weather?”

“Yeah,” Nanami laughed back. “I want to know more about you.”

“How romantic,” you murmured. “My favorite color is mauve… And I prefer sweet over salty.”

“That’s nice, pretty girl,” he murmured back, making a mental note. “What about fingers? How many do you like to fit?”

You arched your back and smiled victoriously.

“Mine or yours?”

“My fingers?” Nanami raised a curious, naughty voice. “Don’t tell me you've sized up my fingers.”

His hand slid down his clothed shaft to the heavy weight hanging between his legs. He gave them a light squeeze.

“Of course I have,” you purred. “In class, many times.”

This time he didn't answer, leaning his head back with a wide smile, breathing in this bold and playful side of you.

You loved how his deep breathing murmured against your ear. You could only dream of having such a big man so needy for you, yet it was now a reality.

“I noticed you too,” he murmured, squeezing at his tight, heavy balls. “It was hard not to.”

“What did you notice?”

“Everything,” he breathed in as his hand found the base of his erect cock. “You wear your stockings very tight; it seems your skin bruises easily, from the red I’ve seen… I’ve also noticed the habit you have of drawing in the corners of your notebooks, and that habit you have of licking your lips… Have you run out of gloss? You haven't worn it for days.”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll buy you a new one, whichever you want.”

“It’s not necessary…”

“Yes, yes it is necessary,” he breathed.

Nanami was a man of semi-traditional values. As much as he liked women with natural personalities, there were ancient roots he was unable to remove from his mind, like the preservation of femininity. Mr. Kento valued effort before the mirror, the blush and the pink bows. They added another layer of intimacy. He loved the idea of seeing you without them - only him.

He imagined you with smudged mascara. You under his sweaty muscles. Your forehead drenched, hair stuck to it. Eyes watery, black rivers staining your cheeks, flushed face, your foundation pressed down on the pillow covers.

Your gloss, smeared all over your face. The glitter spread around by the tip of his cock.

Sitting on his couch, Nanami his hand moved up and down with care - slowly and patiently - scared of how horny and close he actually was.

You were just as flushed, and in the silence of the line, you gathered saliva and spat on your fingers.

Nanami listened to you with a low, crawling smile. His thumb stroked the sensitive corner of his tip.

“Can’t you wait any longer?” he teased softly. “How many fingers?”

“Two,” you whimpered. “B-but I need your cock… like right now.”

Nanami masturbated with more force, lips curled with nasty need.

“I can’t, gorgeous… But you don’t know how much I’d like to open you up right now… I´d make you come like never before.”

“And you?”

“I can… I can wait,” he lied. “I want to feel how you tighten up when you come.”

You whimpered. You lowered the phone between your legs, the microphone obscenely close to your heat, and let your teacher listen to what only he provoked.

Nanami hunched his back as he listened to you.

Wet.

Dripping wet.

In and out. Playfully wiggling your fingers in your entrance.

He went dry at the mouth, throwing his head back while stopping his hand - too close for his liking.

“Fuck…” he hissed.

You didn't hear, your phone down over your folds.

Nanami imagined you in one of your tutoring sessions.

You, lying on your creaky bed. Your mother in the kitchen. Nanami between your legs, trying to keep it quiet and steady in case of interruption.

Your clothes were on; only one of his hands slid under your shirt to play with your hard nipples. His head was tucked under the skirt of your uniform - blonde hair messy and a tongue too strong.

He imagined grabbing your legs so you wouldn't suffocate him. Eating your juices as if he were starving, enjoying the pain of his cock - locked in his pants - with masochist intents.

“I’m close…” you murmured.

“Let me hear you,” he hissed. “Let me hear you, gorgeous.”

Your fingers worked without shame. You had never been so wet, so responsive.

“There’s a puddle on my sheets,” you laughed under your breath. Your voice became increasingly broken.

“That’s how I want you, dripping wet for me, ok?” he murmured. “Good girl. Now cum.”

You obeyed. Phone on your chest, two fingers inside and another playing with your clitoris.

You imagined yourself small beneath him, with your teacher's venous hands holding your legs open while he put it in you again and again: slowly but all the way to the bottom, making you whine, making you look at the bulge he formed under your belly button. His lips whispering sweetly, remarking on your good behavior as you took him.

It didn't take long.

Your moans sang in Nanami’s ears, who struggled not to come before you. The veins of his cock pleaded for help, longing to fill you until you overflowed.

You arched your back, bit the bedspread, and a squirt made your cunt and your legs tremble.

“F - Fuck, Mr…” you hissed in a blissful pain. “Mhmph!”

Nanami - elegant and eloquent - threw his head back and opened his mouth wide - tongue out - eager to collect your ecstasy.

His hand stayed at the top of his shaft, his hips rolled upwards, his balls tightened, and a thick stream of cum jetted towards his ceiling and fell over his shirt.

He moaned, imagining your belly full of his cum, tightened his grip and thrusted once more, his mind full of your flushed face painted in white in his bed, your bed, the living room, the classroom, the school lockers, the swimming pool… He needed you wasted, blurry and blinded. Wet, innocent and dirty.

Anyone would think that after venturing into the intimacy of your home, Nanami would have unlocked the door to your small interior garden.

Knees brushing, gentle glances, everyday conversation, mismatched glasses, your pajamas, his tracksuit, your delicate little hands, his racing heart… A fairy tale, a hormonal diary, it was everything Nanami had wanted - almost everything - but, once again, life reminded him how small and insignificant he was, a methodical piece in a capitalist puzzle. Two busy hearts, two exhausted bodies, and an entire week in which he barely found time to breathe - and even less to get close to you.

Between exams, school boards, and the preparation for the school sports tournament, Nanami began to think he would never rest again. It felt like a space-time tunnel: one day he was at your dining table studying your tired smile, then he sank into exams, budgets, cold meals, two-minute showers, and four-hour nights, and even though it felt eternal, in the blink of an eye the agony ended as he sat in one of the chairs under the faculty tent at the sports tournament.

The late spring sun shone brightly in a sea of small white clouds. The cicadas were already beginning to tune their song to make way for summer in a month, accompanied by the cawing of crows. The high school was overflowing: parents, grandparents, elder and younger siblings… Every corner of the gardens was painted by the colorful stands of the sports teams; there were wells to fish for your fortune, minigames, and even a betting house. The students had gathered in teams - mostly friends - to compete in different sports with each other.

Nanami had already served as a judge for the volleyball team, and the rest of the events were handled by other teachers and class delegates, so he could finally relax.

To the extent that a man as calculating and prudent as Nanami could be relaxed.

Dressed in a simple blue t-shirt with the word “TEACHER” on the back, his accreditation around his neck, and simple straight pants - neither jeans nor suit - Nanami studied the scene through his glasses, immersed in a pleasant bustle of distant music, laughter, and competitive shouts.

Adolescents conversed with the glow of not knowing the challenges that awaited them, revolutionized hormones, hair wrapped in towels, and that smell of chlorine that - until just a week ago - had gone unnoticed by him, but now made his mouth dry. He saw several boys blushing in the presence of their female friends, exchanges of bracelets and pins, some more timid - with headphones on and their gaze lost in their books, and he also saw a boy from the baseball team marching hurriedly toward the infirmary.

“Ooops…” commented another of the teachers resting under the tent. “Looks like someone got hurt.”

Nanami sat up in his chair, eyes agile as a hawk as he found that boy searching through the first aid kits. The teacher didn't think twice; the protective instinct in his chest pushed him to get up - perhaps by intuition - perhaps because he was just like that, kind-hearted.

He approached the boy, his shadow darkening the entrance to the infirmary.

“What do you need?” he asked in a soft voice. “What happened to you?”

The boy looked fleetingly over his shoulder and shook his head.

“It’s not for me… I’m looking for normal bandages, all of these have an adhesive side.”

“The normal ones are here,” Nanami said, rummaging through the boxes in the second cabinet. “But the adhesive ones are very good, the glue is not harmful and makes them hold better…”

“Do they work underwater?”

The boy's question made Nanami stop dead in front of the shelves; intuition stirred in his chest.

“Who got hurt?”

“MC, from the swimming team.”

Nanami swallowed hard but he didn't let his impulses run toward the pool. There were several reasons why that would be wrong: he didn't want to put you on the spot, or show too much concern in front of so many people, or see you in that dangerous blue swimsuit. There were also several reasons why he wanted more than anything to run to your side, but it boiled down to one: you were his to care for and to hurt in equal measure. No one, not even this kid, had the right to lay a hand on you.

“What happened to her?”

“I don't know,” the brat shrugged. “But she has a nasty cut on her foot.”

“And why have you come for the bandage? Out of everyone?” Nanami's voice cut through the air of the infirmary. The boy frowned with a mixture of confusion and fear.

“W-What?” he stammered. “I was watching the laps a—”

“Go,” the teacher ordered him. “Leave. I’ll take them to her myself.”

The boy didn't take long to high-tail it out of there, fleeing an infirmary that seemed to be suddenly surrounded by clouds.

Nanami stood in the shadow of the shelves, bandage in hand, cursing himself.

Why the hell did he think it was better not to go see you? Was it really better to avoid his own lust and let other men eye you the same filthy way? Had he stopped supporting you simply because he wasn't able to control himself in front of you?

“Shit…”

His steps became long and efficient as he moved through the school grounds, following the wet footprints to the pools, where the splashing of students and arbitrary whistles reminisced of a summer afternoon.

It wasn't hard for him to recognize you among the tide of blue swimsuits running riskily around the pools; to be honest, no one wore it like you.

You had your back turned under the shade of the hydration tent, with one foot propped up while you held onto two friends. Even with your back hunched, your ass had swallowed half of your swimsuit in a suggestive way that reminded h…

Heavens, could he not think of anything else?

Nanami clicked his tongue, circled you and the two girls holding you, and wanted to slap himself upon meeting your face.

You were crying. Not much - just enough to make your eyes shine in the most beautiful way. Your teeth were chattering in a mixture of cold, pain, and anger. Your wet hair stuck to your cheeks and you had goosebumps all over your exposed skin.

You looked at him, clearly distraught, and your teacher's heart sank. He looked down to find your foot pitifully wrapped in a pool towel, with droplets of blood blurring in the chlorine puddles around.

“Hey… Hey…” he murmured, taking you by the arms to stabilize you and release your friends. “Relax…”

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” you stammered nervously. “I don’t like this at all, I don’t like this one bit.”

Nanami clicked his tongue, infuriated to see you like this.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It’s a shit ton of blood,” you said, out of your mind.

“Not at all,” he lied, giving a warning look to your teammates. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry.”

Nanami's hands stroked your forearms, your elbows; one circled your waist, the other stroked the back of your legs as he took you in his arms with a slight grunt.

You clung to his neck, hands softer than ever as you wrapped them over his hard muscles.

Chlorine, coconut lotion, and an intoxicating smell of the natural oils of your body blurred his senses. Nanami's eyes were so close to the rise and fall of your nervous chest, every hair on your goose-fleshed skin, the rigidity of your cold nipples under the swimsuit... His hands felt the pumping of your blood, his arms savored having you, light as a feather to him, delicate, and in this case, wounded.

He didn't mind picking you up in front of so many people. Everyone was more focused on the crimson trail your foot left behind than on the erratic and possessive grip with which Nanami's hands squeezed your flesh.

“What happened?” he asked as he carried you to the small patio behind the locker rooms, where you could cry without being seen by everyone.

“Someone must have dropped a glass, I don't know…” you complained through hisses.

Grand. Tall. Imposing.

Soft.

Nanami handled you in the air without problems, flexing his legs to rest you on one of the plastic chairs gathering dust in the back.

“Let’s see…” he murmured to himself as he knelt before your long naked legs. To tell the truth, the views were stimulating, but your grimace of pain and the blood prevented him from enjoying it. “I’m going to take off the toeel, okay? You’d better not look.”

“I’m not looking,” you nodded nervously, clutching the chair. “I’m not looking.”

“Good girl.”

Nanami was gentle with you; he always would be. With one hand he held your calf in the air, with the other he uncovered your smooth-skinned foot.

“It’s not deep,” he said as he examined the cut. “This will close on its own in a couple of days, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, still visibly upset.

“Do you doubt me?” Nanami said - half serious, half hesitant. “I’m offended.”

“It’s bleeding too much,” you countered.

Nanami bit the start of the bandage and pulled to extend the gauze. Carefully he wrapped it around your foot, his fingers stroking you like an elusive animal with mystical powers.

“You know full well why it’s bleeding so much,” he said, his voice deeper and full of honey. “Miss Straight-A Student in biology.”

“I haven't studied biology in two years” you murmured. Your body was relaxing under Nanami’s care, your hips melting onto the chair, opening for him. Your skin was still bristling, as were your nipples, but you had already let yourself fall against the back of the chair while your teacher's hands carried all the weight of your leg.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Nanami murmured, a timid smile as he wrapped your foot in the bandage. “I know how smart you are.”

You dared to look down now that the blood was hidden, and under Nanami’s small smile you laughed shyly and rolled your eyes.

Ah… How he loved that arrogance you hid under layers of kind innocence.

“Come on…” he said while biting the gauze. “Tell me, why is your foot bleeding so much?”

You made a move to think twice, but you were incapable of disobeying him. You threw your head back, your hips forward - toward him - and huffed.

“The feet are in constant motion, so they have a very dense network of blood vessels…” you recited in a monotonous voice. “Also, being at the lowest point of the body, gravity increases the pressure… and this pressure, well, makes it difficult for the vessels to close on their own, meaning… it bleeds more profusely.”

Nanami shuddered at the delineation of your body, so close to his face, so open to him, with the line of your stomach exposed, as well as your ribs, your breasts, your cunt… But what made him feel a tickle between his legs the most was that ease of quoting your books, that intelligence that made you superior to the rest, and that obedience you always showed him.

After all, you were his good girl, the best of all.

“You’re brilliant, MC.”

With both hands applying pressure, Nanami held your foot high to stop the bleeding under the bandage.

You looked down at his face, kneeling between your two legs… What a great fucking view.

“Brilliant enough to get into Tokyo University?”

“Any place you walk through the door of, will be privileged to have you,” Nanami replied, almost offended by that question. “At your age, I wasn't even half as smart.”

“But did you get in with a scholarship?”

Your question made Nanami reflect.

“N- No, but…”

“Right,” you interrupted him with disappointment. “Right.”

Both of you fell into silence.

You were correct. A brilliant student was limited to how much they could pay for tuition, or how much competition there was for the few scholarship slots. Even if Nanami's words were true and you were even smarter than him, with the computer you had, you wouldn't even reach the university's home page.

“I’m not going to let you fail, MC,” your teacher's voice made your skin crawl again; suddenly you were very aware of how open you were before him. “I’ve already promised that to your mother.”

Your eyes met, you took a breath, your cheeks caught fire and you had to look away toward the high school gardens.

You had really tried to handle Nanami's unexpected visit to your house with normality, but you had been unable to.

How could you forget the natural scent of your teacher when it had left your living room permeated? How could you pay attention in his class when you could now form an idea of what he hid under his suit pants? Heavens… You wanted to think that hardness was a normal reaction to your pitiful attempt to dry his crotch, but there was something more; the looks in class, the softness in his voice, the sighs he gave only when you crossed paths in the hallway, the gentleness with which he now bandaged you… You didn't know why, but something had changed in your mind - now flooded by warm and wet dreams - and you were beginning to believe that something had also changed in his.

Although you knew fully well that Nanami would never cross that line.

Perhaps the fun - the excitement - was, in reality, wanting but not being able to.

Still kneeling, Nanami secured the bandage with medical tape and rested your foot over his shoulder. You shrank back as you noticed how your lowerlips opened under the swimsuit.

Nanami's mouth went dry seeing how your groin welcomed him, a bit reddened by the rub of the swimsuit. He cleared his throat and repositioned his knees on the floor.

“Does it hurt?” He murmured with his gaze fixed on your face. It was either that, or looking at the delineation of your cunt and planting a kiss on it.

“What does?” you said, a bit dazed by your exposure.

“The foot.”

“No… Hardly at all.”

Nanami tilted his head toward your foot and sighed. Why did you insist on having everything under control? He couldn't form an idea of how much pressure you were supporting at your young age. Fatherless, with a disastrous mother, disciplining your brother and trying to get one of the most prestigious scholarships while maintaining yourself as the best swimmer in the prefecture.

He could give you the stability you needed, if you allowed him.

The drops from the pool evaporated on your skin and under the sun. The silence that fell between both of you left you alone with the murmur of the festival, the laughter, and the music. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but one loaded with a lot of things you couldn't say to each other.

You observed how Nanami’s blonde fringe shone and fell over the lenses of his glasses. He observed how the hair on your leg stood up every time his fingers ran over it. His hand - which had been drawing circles around your ankle to calm you down - went up your shin and then down behind your knee, where the tingling made you stir in your plastic chair with a shy laugh.

Nanami's lips parted in a feline smile.

“Are you ticklish?”

Good heavens, what a filthy way to talk to you and what a silly way to make you wet.

You didn't dare speak for fear that the little control you had before him would show, although to tell the truth, the way you had stretched out in the chair for him - legs open and with your chest swollen and pointed - was more than enough to betray you. You limited yourself to nodding and hiding your mouth behind your hand.

Nanami looked around.

There was nothing wrong with improving your student's mood after going through an unpleasant upset… Right?

Basically, he was desperate. The more time he spent near you, the harder it became to slow down.

His hand squeezed your knee to make you squirm again; both of you laughed; then he drew small circles up your knee - his smile altered, a bit nervous about how you might react.

You filled your lungs and held your breath. You looked to one side, at the bushes covering the periphery of the pool, and then to the other, the walls that gave a bit of privacy to the locker rooms. You could hear the voices of your teammates through the ventilation grill, but you weren't doing anything wrong…

Nanami studied you with fear as his hand continued upward at an agonizing pace.

After checking your surroundings, you looked at him, he looked at you, and you dedicated the most powerful gesture of your life to him; turning your knee to open your leg further.

A silent invitation.

The image of your crotch - swollen and locked in the swimsuit - forced Nanami to swallow hard. His ears flushed red; his eyes danced nervously between your face, your cunt, and your surroundings.

“MC…” he sighed with desperation, as if he were trying to cling to the little moral discipline he had left.

You didn't speak, frankly too horny to form coherent words.

How was it possible that Nanami had so much power over your feelings? How? He had barely touched you, and you were already visibly aroused like an animal in heat.

He felt suffocated by such an image. You, so innocent, breathing with your lips parted and clutching the plastic chair while you waited for him to touch you.

“I am your teacher,” he said with a broken voice, but his hand did not stop, rising until it completely circled your thigh.

“I know.”

“Then you must know that we shouldn't… That I shouldn't…”

You opened your legs further; Nanami licked his lips, shook his head again, but reached your hip and grabbed you with a trembling force, punishing you for the suffering you were causing him.

“I - I don’t want you to think I want something in return for helping you… Okay?”

You nodded, increasingly desperate.

Nanami looked around again; he didn't have much time; in fact, he probably had no time at all.

“Surely your teammates are looking for you,” he murmured. His hand slid over the mound of your pelvis and you whimpered like a wounded animal. “You are aware that I don't have time to do everything I want to do to you, right?”

“What do you want to do to me?” you murmured with a voice too filthy for the innocence of your lips.

Nanami smiled from ear to ear and his chest reverberated with a dark laugh.

“Don’t ask me those things.” His smile disappeared. “You’re not ready to know.”

His hand - venous and thick - acted with haste. His thumb pressed against the small little bump that marked the beginning and end of your cunt - that little mound of nerves that only he knew how much you liked to have rubbed - and stroked it from top to bottom with the perfect pressure.

You arched over the chair and hissed, horny as hell. Nanami responded to your reaction with a murmur of satisfaction.

After recording in his mind how you moaned for him, he looked to the sides again and decided to steal one last souvenir from you before having to - unfortunately - return you to reality.

Three of his fingers dug under the fabric of your swimsuit, grabbed it firmly, and pulled it aside. The mild air tickled your entrance - pinkish and shiny.

“Fuck…” Nanami hissed as he took in your swollen sight.

If it were up to him… he was already ready to get inside you - his cock hard as iron longed to impale itself in those plump lips. Heavens, there was no measure that defined all the time Nanami wanted to spend between your legs.

But at least one of the two of you remained aware of reality, because although you seemed ready for him to fuck you relentlessly and regardless of the amount of people around, Nanami knew it was impossible to have you today - probably ever.

He only needed a taste to keep him going the next following days.

Kneeling before you, he leaned forward and you sank your hands into his blonde hair. Nanami stuck out his tongue and went even lower - between your butt cheeks -, with the tip of his nose threatening your cunt’s little hole. He inhaled your most intimate perfume; his whole body trembled, and then with a single lick, he gathered all your juices and your flavor.

You whimpered with pleasure, but Nanami - far from continuing - pulled away from your cunt as fast as he arrived.

“N-No… p-please,” you stammered.

Nanami shook his head. He couldn't give you what you both wanted, not here, not this way; he had to make a gap in his schedule.

He swallowed your remains, but his hand kept your swimsuit pulled aside and your cunt exposed. It took him a few seconds, moving his cheeks as he watched you - recording you in his memory. He sucked in his sharp cheeks, approached your cunt again, and with the most possessive look in the world, spat on your cunt before putting your swimsuit back in place.

His warm, dense saliva was caught between your lips, running through the interior of your folds in a mocking way, leaving you wanting more.

The elastic of your swimsuit had barely snapped against your cunt when footsteps were heard around the locker room.

“Sit up straight,” he ordered you harshly.

You whimpered, the wetness of his saliva not letting you think clearly, but you obeyed and sat with your legs closed.

Nanami took your foot and placed it on the floor just before two of your teammates and your swimming coach appeared around the corner.

“How is she?” asked coach Nagoya.

Nanami remained crouched to hide his erection. His hands clutched your ankle, giving you little taps of attention. To tell the truth, you were looking shameful: flushed, eyes moist, and nipples harder than a mountain.

“A bit dizzy,” Nanami smiled innocently. “She can't stand the sight of blood.”

Your coach approached you, touched your forehead, and had the audacity to comb your wet hair. Jealousy stirred inside Nanami.

“Your mother can't leave work; Mrs. Shin has offered to take you home,” Nagoya said. “Mei and Loira will help you change, okay?”

“Mhm- h,” you nodded, dilated pupils fixed on Nanami. You seemed caught in a mixture of drugs, sadness for not being able to finish what you had started, and anger because Nanami had mocked your cunt that way. But above all, you were happy to know that your speculations were true, and as your friends accompanied you into the locker room, you looked back - at the tall, blonde teacher who followed your every move and had left a trail of spit down your legs - and smiled victoriously, knowing that at some point, you would have the gentleman of your dreams making you beg for mercy.

It was the first time Nanami had broken his strict schedule for another person. Upon leaving the gym, instead of returning home for dinner, his route changed drastically.

Dressed in a black hooded tracksuit, with a silver watch gleaming on his wrist, Nanami left his gym bag in the trunk of his white Mercedes Coupé and started the engine with a roar that made him one of the most sought-after men among the women at the gym - though he didn't realize it, nor would he care.

As he entered your address into the navigator, the neighborhood you lived in caught his attention. Perhaps it was elitist on his part, but given your refined education, he never expected you to come from such humble streets.

His car drew attention as it made its way under the light of the dim streetlamps. He parked a couple of blocks away - out of caution - put on his hood, and began to walk.

You lived in a small apartment complex with walls stained by humidity, straight on the ground floor - for a lower mortgage price.

Nanami, nervous but determined, stopped in the shadows and took out his phone. To his disappointment, you weren't live. But it was already too late to regain his sanity: he needed to see you, in whatever way possible. He needed to wrap himself in the secrecy of your intimacy again.

Just a peek, he promised himself…The morally acceptable minimum… Even though you had already made him lose his fucking mind.

He skirted the windows cautiously; most of the interior was blurred by curtains, but he was able to familiarize himself with the humble layout of your home. There was no one in the living room even though the light was on, and a rattling of plates could be heard from the kitchen.

With silent footsteps, he rounded the exterior of the apartment and came to a dead stop - petrified - when his eyes found you.

Illuminated by a small, rusty lamp, your beautiful, serene face fluttered its lashes before several school books. Dressed in fluffy dark green pajamas with your hair loosely tossed to a side, and with your little brother sitting on your lap. He was drawing; you were studying.

Your books were new thanks to the school’s book bank - but the computer before you looked ancient: thick and full of cables.

Nanami’s heart stopped at the sight of you.

He realized then; you truly were the good girl he thought he knew, the student with the perfect smile and even better behaviour. You hadn't been deceiving him; he had simply discovered one of the deepest layers that made you human.

Just like him, you didn't have time to socialize in the most natural way, and you had resorted to webcamming as the most efficient way to cover both your monetary and sexual needs.

You were a girl devoid of money and affection.

His chest trembled.

In that moment he forgot all the lust that had ignited his body and found himself wrapped in a need deeper than sex, more agonizing and desperate. The need to protect you, to cradle you, to ensure a tear never rolled down your soft cheeks. To dress you in gold and feed you silver.

He watched, immersed, as you wrote in your notebook, as you typed on that old keyboard while the murmur of your voice tinkled against the window.

Your room had minimal decoration, painted a sober white with posters from recycled magazines, an old wooden bed, and a desk full of scratches. Nanami’s heart sank seeing how someone with such a colorful soul was forced to live in such austere conditions.

“Come on… you son of a bitch…”

Your huff caught his attention. You tapped the computer twice and breathed impatiently.

“Mom!” you shouted, covering your brother's ears.

“What!”

“Has the wifi gone out again?!”

“I don't know, honey! I’m in the kitchen!”

You sighed, rubbing your face in desperation; you set your brother on the floor and disappeared through the bedroom door.

Nanami retraced his steps toward the entrance of the house, trying to track you through the curtains, but he didn't find you.

Instead he found himself alone, hooded, and creeping on the intimacy of a home.

Reality slapped him all at once.

What the hell was he doing?

Neither all the butterflies in his stomach nor the love that scene might have provoked were excuses for this erratic behavior. He realized then that if he continued letting himself be carried away by his obsession with you, he would break the curated stability of his life.

He stepped away from the windows and returned to the sidewalk, ready to go back to his car. He took off his hood so as not to look like even more of a pervert, but just when he had convinced himself that his obsession must pass, the apartment building door opened.

Nanami stopped, and a little boy came running down the asphalt path toward the sidewalk - trash bag in hand.

It was your brother.

“You should have done it sooner!”

The teacher looked up at that unmistakable stream of a voice. Beyond the asphalt, your recognizable figure was holding the building door while scolding your brother.

You looked up, and your shoulders relaxed as you recognized that man with the tall, imposing silhouette who had stopped walking in the presence of your little brother. A mixture of calm and excitement took hold of you. It was the best coincidence to end the day.

“Mr. Nanami?” you asked from the door.

“Who…?” he feigned.

Before he could help it, his legs were already walking in the direction of your building, pulled by an invisible thread of need - only this time it wasn't carnal.

As he approached, he saw you under the dim light of the doorway - warm and inviting; you looked comfortable but tired, makeup-less, the most vulnerable way he could see you - admire you.

Upon seeing him, although your cheeks flushed slightly, your shoulders relaxed.

Mr. Nanami's skin was glowing, and his blonde hair, always gelled back, now fell casually over his forehead. He looked younger, more reachable, and the soft smile he gave you as he took over and held the door for you made your chest tickle.

“MC… Good evening.”

His gaze was fleeting; and you missed those hazel eyes when he looked away. You had forgotten about your little brother, who was still running toward the bins in the darkness of the night, but instead of shouting at him, you stood mute, watching how your teacher made sure nothing happened to your him - taking over your duties.

You couldn't take your eyes off that blonde fringe, off the way his hollow cheeks gave Nanami a jawline worthy of Greek statues. You had never seen his neck so exposed; gone was the tight-collared shirt; now his hoodie allowed you to see the straight lines of his neck muscles and how they met at a sharp collarbone. Although the nerves of being before him outside of school hours urged you to ask all sorts of stupid questions, you refrained from asking what he was doing there; the drops of sweat soaking his nape, the flush of his cheeks, and his black tracksuit gave you the answer.

You shouldn't have, but you imagined him exhausted after a workout session, lazily taking off his clothes - leaning against the bathroom sink and flexing his abs - and you wished with all your might to be there to help him, to ask him to sit down so you could undress him with all your best behavior, massaging his shoulders while he whimpered in pleasure; you wished to have such a large man melting between your fingers…

You were about to imagine how - during the massage, the contour of his growing erection would greet you under those joggers with joyful bounces - when the echo of your brother's running brought you back to reality.

With a strong heartbeat in your chest, you took a gulp of air to dispel those horrible thoughts and gave your brother a playful smack on the head as he ran between the two of you.

Nanami’s laughter forced you to blink several times, dazed.

“Are you alright?” he asked with kindness in his eyes.

“Yes, yes…” you wished he couldn't read your mind. “Yes, sorry… It’s just that for a second I didn't recognize you, I thought they were going to kidnap my brother.”

“I’m glad it was me, the hooded man passing by,” Nanami laughed silently, the wrinkles around his eyes becoming prominent. “But promise me that next time he’ll take it out at a more decent hour.”

“He’s the one who should promise that!” you laughed, mimicking a small tantrum in the middle of the doorway. “The trash bag was at the entrance for four hours!”

Nanami had to laugh to hide how this carefree side of yours left him breathless. He threw his head back to take a breath and placed a hand on his abdomen. You had him absorbed - unaware of his own body's reactions.

“I’ll make sure to pass by here more often then,” he sighed with a broad smile. “Lest your brother doesn't learn from this one.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head in defeat. Frankly, it was exhausting playing the role of a mother.

“You have a tired little face,” your teacher’s voice made your hair stand on end. “Were you studying?”

Fuck, could he read your mind?

And shit, did you look that bad?

“I was just finishing,” you murmured while smoothing your hair to hide behind it.

“You mustn't overdo it,” Nanami said, still holding the building door. “All the teachers know what you are capable of; it’s okay if you take a break.”

Your eyes lit up with admiration, your heart skipped a beat, your legs weakened. In the chaos of your home, in the recriminations and the demands, you had never been spoken to with such compassion before. You could taste the sweetness of his words.

Nanami - on the other hand - sought a thousand and one ways to keep his eyes from shaping themselves with too much longing, to keep his legs from taking another step toward you, and to keep the strong beat of his chest from being heard in the echo of your doorway.

The words wouldn't come.

You both stayed in silence.

He smiled, and you smiled even more.

He took a breath, you tilted your head and smiled again.

In response he scoffed, bit his lip and let the air out through his nose.

Just as Nanami made a move to try and say something, your apartment door opened behind you, startling both of you.

“Who are you w…?” your mother peeked from under the doorframe. “Oh! Mr. Nanami, what a pleasant coincidence!”

The teacher straightened up elegantly, swallowed hard, and put a hand in his pants pocket.

In his mind, you had already slid down the entire length of his cock while he sat on his sofa; you were crying into his neck, leaving a trail of drool while you bit his shoulder, and he had one hand massaging your hip and the other combing your hair while he whispered how well you were doing.

So yes, your mother’s interruption - though necessary - couldn't have happened at a worse moment.

“Mrs. Sohma, good evening.”

“I thought he was going to kidnap Lee,” you laughed, nervous.

“I was running through the neighborhood,” Nanami pointed to the street. “I’d better continue before I catch a cold.”

“Wouldn't you like to come in for dinner?” your mother proposed.

You tensed up. You didn't want Nanami to see the hovel you lived in, nor did you want to spend the whole dinner trying not to turn red while your mother embarrassed you.

“Oh, thank you for the invitation, but I should get g…”

“It’ll be quick! I promise,” your mother insisted, sinking you deeper and deeper.

Nanami's gaze danced between you and your mother. He shouldn't risk it while wearing such loose clothing, but he couldn't help it; every time he met your eyes he felt the need to dive into them, and the longer your mother spent with the door open, the more the smell of your home intoxicated him - so much yours, innocent but secret.

He looked at his silver watch, but it had been twenty four hours since you had messed his schedule forever. And although he wasn't sure that your body's nervousness was a good sign, he abandoned his moral compass once again and took a step inside the doorway.

“A quick dinner,” he nodded, taking you by the wrist to close the door. “May I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your dining table was too small for four people. Nanami’s legs barely fit between the wooden legs and the plates bumped into each other. The dining room light was a dim orange, with one of the bulbs flickering on the verge of burning out; but it was strangely cozy.

Nanami did not regret having accepted your mother’s invitation, but as he followed the host's orders and sat waiting in the small dining chair, he could hardly bear to watch you rushing through the clutter of your house in an attempt to make it presentable. He hadn't even noticed the mess; he couldn't care less about it.

You had laundry spread across the sofa while it dried with a dehumidifier, and you fought against the clock as if Nanami hadn't already been there to see it. He hated seeing you like this - frowning, jaw tense, and with the slight gasp of your indignant breath - but although his knuckles were white from clenching his fists, he was forced to keep up the conversation with your mother, who was preparing dinner beyond the kitchen door.

"We spent five months without salary before they fired us all…" she said amidst the clinking of plates. "But now this new company seems to be doing well!"

"Well, that’s a relief," Nanami answered in a monotonous voice. His eyes didn't leave you, overwhelmed as your little brother did his thing by undoing the piles of clothes.

"Lee, stop it, please," you huffed between trips back and forth.

"You studied economics at the University of Tokyo, didn't you?" your mother spoke from the kitchen.

"Yes, that's right."

"Heavens... It’s every student's dream... Right, MC?"

With laundry in your arms, you lifted your head above the shirts - disheveled and flushed - to answer your mother with an annoyed huff.

"MC is studying hard to get the scholarship to the University of Tokyo," your mother commented from the kitchen. "We couldn't afford the tuition, but it would be the way to ensure a good future."

Your cheeks burned with shame. With a pile of clothes in your lap, you headed toward your room, but your little brother had other plans - bored and impatient with hunger - so he ran toward you, imitating the sound of a plane, his hand impacting the pile of clothes and knocking them to the living room floor.

The thread of your patience snapped.

You took a breath, but before you could scream at your brother, Nanami's chair creaked against the dining room floor.

The teacher stood up, tall and imposing. The lines of his face sharpened under the dim light, and his eyes darkened with an annoyed grimace that made your brother stop in fear.

Nanami didn't say anything to him. He knew very well it wasn't his place to discipline someone else's child, and although annoyed, it wasn't your brother he cared about.

He pushed him aside gently; his hazel eyes met yours - surprised and expectant - and then he crouched near your face, so close you could hear his deep breathing, until he was kneeling before you.

It took you a couple of seconds to register that he was picking your clothes up from the floor.

"Mr. Nanami, p-please..." you stammered nervously, embarrassed, but he didn't give you the chance to protest.

"Sit down," he demanded with a strangely gruff voice. "Please."

Your whole body responded in the most visceral way, straightening like a soldier and lowering your chin submissively.

You couldn't say no to him, never, but especially not when you had him on his knees before you.

It was a reminder of what you were, of what you would always be: a teacher and a student.

You, always seeking his approval.

He, always looking out for your best interest.

So, you obeyed without question, moving away from the clothes and taking a seat at the dining table.

As much as he would have liked to, Nanami was not bold enough to venture inside your room. His mind was not in that dark crack where he remembered your silent moans, nor was he imagining your swollen lips; no... but he didn't want to risk going in and seeing your uniform folded over the bed. He already had enough picking up your bra from the floor. He wanted to have dinner in peace, he wanted to focus on you, and the help you seemed to be screaming for within these four chaotic walls.

He limited himself to leaving the pile of clothes back on the sofa. Then, he approached the dining table, and only needed to point to one of the chairs for your brother to run and sit down with his tail between his legs.

Unconsciously, you bit the inside of your cheek.

That moment was a confirmation, you liked men with initiative, in command. Men like Nanami: authoritative but without arrogance, elegant but with an air of dominance that left you pleading and thanking.

You didn't realize it, but you were staring at him too much.

"If what your mother says is true..." Nanami circled the table toward his seat, and with one of his large veiny hands, he stroked the crown of your head before sitting down. "...the most important thing for good academic results is a good rest."

You simply smiled softly, your cheeks a little pink. You were starting to feel like you were in a fever dream... until your mother appeared with the dinner trays.

"Isn't that right?" she laughed. "I always tell her... it's not good to stay awake until late hours."

Your chest tightened.

Your teacher's did too.

"Do you go to bed very late, MC?"

"Not always," you answered quickly while serving yourself rice. "Only in exam season."

"Oh, what a liar..."

"Mom, stop it."

Nanami’s breathing became deeper.

Underneath the table and the cotton of his joggers, his cock didn't seem to forget you. He had you right in front of him; beautiful, innocent eyes and lips shiny from the water you kept drinking. Disheveled hair, pajamas permeated with your scent, hydrated face, and a coconut body lotion that had certainly not gone unnoticed by him. He had you right in front of him... How could he not imagine you?

Spread open in front of the camera while your mother slept.

Surely you liked to show yourself on all fours, with both little holes tilted up for good access.

"Your mother is right, you must rest," Nanami cleared his throat and fixed his pants. "But I must admit it is normal and necessary, for a young woman with such a demanding schedule, to enjoy your own time for your hobbies."

You took a ball of rice to your mouth and fluttered your lashes at your teacher's attentive gaze in silent gratitude. It seemed he always had your back.

Nanami shifted in his seat, stretching to relieve the burning between his legs and clear his head. Yes, he needed you in the filthiest and most forbidden way there was, but he also desired to become your guardian angel. He had to make a good - clean - impression.

And if in the process he could get closer to you... well, it was all a plus.

"I still have the reports that got me into the University," Nanami commented between bites. "I imagine they'll be a bit dated... but the methodology remains the same."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but it was your mother who stood up - victorious that her tactic had worked.

"Could you share them with MC?"

"Of course," he nodded with apparent calm. "If you have time at some point in your busy schedule, we could review them."

"O-Of course," you stammered while slipping out of your chair and running to your room in search of your planner. "Tomorrow... Wait, no, i can't tomorrow, I have an algebra exam the day after and I'll have little time to study because of the sports festival preparation, and I also promised Mei I'd help her decorate her baseball cap for the tournament."

Nanami turned all his attention to you as you leaned toward him at the table, showing him how full the pages of your planner were.

Having you so close - you and that gods dammed coconut lotion - tensed every muscle in his body. Before he could restrain himself, he wrapped one hand around your back and forced you to lean against his forearm - making sure you didn't fall off the chair.

You arched your back at the subtle contact; your eyes sought Nanami's like a frightened puppy, but when he smiled softly and pointed with his chin to your planner, you accepted his permission and leaned on his arm, allowing his hand to grip the padding of your hip.

He - so polite, elegant, and gentlemanly - maintained a serene and exemplary grimace while, under the table and under your mother's oblivious gaze, his erection bounced against the confines of his tracksuit.

"I understand Mei is going to be the main pitcher," Nanami murmured in a pitiful attempt to keep his feet on the ground.

"She's super excited," you nodded with a smile.

"Perhaps we should leave it for after the sports tournament," Nanami said as he stroked the pages of your planner. "This is very tight; I don't think it would fit."

Hazel eyes fixed - locked onto yours.

The silence between your faces became suffocating and heavy.

Neither of you knew it, but in that instant, the same burning and throbbing thought crossed both your minds.

Would Nanami fit?

Your stomach turned just thinking about it. If your teacher's cock followed the proportions of his tall body, you were sure you wouldn't be able to swim for the entire season.

Nanami, who had already seen your small entrance, went one step further. Yes: he would make it fit. Slowly, carefully, stroking your abdomen and drawing small circles on your clit while encouraging you with those sweet and dirty words he reserved only for his best student.

"F-For after the tournament, then?" you nodded, moving away from his chair.

"Very well," he nodded back, straightening up. "That way I'll have time to find them all and review them."

Your mother clapped - absorbed and frankly hypnotized by Nanami’s polite bearing.

"Thank you so much, Mr.! Heavens... Surely with your help she'll be able to get the scholarship."

"You're welcome, Miss Sohma..." Nanami nodded, noticing how the flush on your cheeks had expanded to your ears.

Dinner proceeded successfully, although Nanami ended up exhausted. From start to finish, you had him in a swing between eroticism and strangeness; the way your legs brushed under the table, the way you laughed with a bright smile, how you made sure his glass was never empty, and how you licked your lips after every bite... You were the most addictive torture of all.

And on the other hand, he wasn't far behind: always filling your plate with more food, covering the corners of the table every time your brother stood up, and cutting your food into small pieces.

Perhaps to outside eyes it might seem like Nanami was trying to fill the void of your father, but they were wrong; it wasn't your mother whose body he wanted to mark with the path of his cock.

Forty minutes of agony later, you all stood up to clear away. Thank God, you hadn't done anything suggestive in the last five minutes, and Nanami's erection had gone back to sleep.

Your mother was the first to get up with the trays and disappear into the kitchen. Your brother Lee, typical of him, stood up from the chair with too much energy - imaginary plane in hand - and as he jumped in his imagination, he caused one of the glasses to spill across the table.

Directly toward your teacher's lap.

Nanami startled back; you exhaled - annoyed and embarrassed - grabbed a handful of napkins, and ran to his side.

"Damn it... Lee!" you snapped. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm sorry."

Your hands rested on your teacher's lap - soaked right between leg and leg. You tapped with the napkins, applying pressure lightly on a surface that was becoming harder and harder.

"It's okay..."

Nanami's voice was pathetic.

He couldn't even feel the cold water; he only saw - felt - you.

Messy hair over your face, flushed cheeks, one hand resting on his knee, the other pressing directly onto his cock - with an innocent delicacy that he was longing to ruin and worship in equal measure.

Nanami bit his lips, heard the clinking of dishes in the kitchen, and allowed himself to brush the hair away from your face to tuck it behind your ear. You flickered your lashes at him, suddenly very aware of your proximity.

"It's nothing, MC," he whispered gently.

"I'm so sorry, now you're going to have to go home all wet," you murmured, still trying to dry him. "You'll catch a cold."

With a huge, enveloping hand, Nanami grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. With the other hand, he wrapped around yours and pressed you down, toward the massive erection you had provoked.

He watched your reaction closely - the way your pupils dilated and your mouth parted as if you were ready to devour him.

You shuddered, your hand locked between your teacher's hand and a hard member throbbing beneath it. It certainly wasn't going to fit, but you were dying to try it.

"It's okay if things don't turn out perfect," Nanami stroked your knuckles, his cock bouncing against your palm. "Okay? Don't worry so much, leave that to me."

"O-Okay."

"You have a nice home," he nodded, still whispering. "Okay?"

"O-Okay."

"And you don't have to be ashamed before me," he hissed. "Okay?"

"Y-yes..."

"Good." His hand stroked yours one last time, his hip rubbing against your hand like a purring cat, his thumb caressing your upper lip, and then he let you go. "Good girl."

You stood up from the table with trembling legs and ecstasy in your head.

¿Was your imagination playing games?

You felt the need to act normal, unable to look into his eyes again.

It burned. Your whole body ached with need: lustful, warm and hardhitting.

You forced yourself to help your mother with the dishes.

Nanami remained seated, awfully quiet and straight.

Swallowing.

Swallowing the tension that had sparked, the lustful actions he had commited, and the ultimate dirty little secret you both had unveiled.

He had shown you in the upmost honest way how much he wanted you; erect, thick, probably already leaking.

And you, shivering lips and dilated pupils, had answered to his plea with an even more evident face; flushed, thirsty and needy.

The silence after the table cleared was deafening, only interrupted by your mother’s oblivious remarks. Far from uncomfortable, you could tell both of you were trying to decipher what could this mean moving fordward.

Needles yo say, that night, all ropes of thick cum that stained your teacher’s sheets belonged to you. No porn needed.

At dawn, Nanami woke up as if he had a hangover: regretful of his actions, ashamed of the filth that had crossed his mind, and distressed by the effect you had on his body. He had to take a cold shower to wake up from that trance, and he scrubbed his body as if he wanted to renew his sinful skin. While making breakfast, he repeated to himself over and over that nothing had happened. While eating breakfast, he nodded, believing his own words to draw a thick veil over it. By the time he put on his suit his heart had returned to a normal speed. And when he arrived at school, you – though persistent – hid in his mind behind all his responsibilities.

He had exams with two classes, and two other exams to grade. The principal was counting on him to prepare next week’s sports day, and he had to meet with the rest of the teacher staff to evaluate a problematic student’s file, so he didn't have time to think again about the affairs of a student who – frankly – wasn't hurting anyone.

Until it was time to teach you.

The sun shone through the windows of the high school corridor, drawing rectangles of warm light on the wooden floor. On the way to your class, Nanami made the floorboards creak with his elegant steps. He wasn't nervous, and he made it known by politely greeting all the students he crossed paths with. He wasn't nervous, but the grip on his briefcase had turned his knuckles white, and he adjusted his tie knot every five seconds. He wasn't nervous, but when he reached your classroom door, he inhaled sharply to see if he could catch your coconut perfume mixed with the pool chlorine.

Damn it.

Nanami spun on his leather shoes, and the racket of his students slapped his senses. He walked toward the platform with his eyes fixed on the window, trying to remain serene, but every polite teacher greeted his students, so he adjusted his tie once more and faced the class.

The sun was shining directly on you, perfectly seated at your desk, legs crossed like royalty to avoid revealing what was hidden under your skirt. While you read your notes with a satisfied smirk – stroking the pages delicately – your friends chatted with laughter and whispers around you, one of them braiding your hair.

You were an angelic creature, a rose in a field of daisies – sweet, soft, and alluring. Nanami’s eyes were unable to tear themselves away from you once they found you, and while he saw you glowing, polite, and intelligent, a crack tore on his mind and took him to a dark underworld of swollen lips, sticky fingers, your trembling legs while you rubbed against him, your beautiful and innocent face painted by the white of his thick ropes of cum…

All the students noticed their teacher's tense gaze and followed his eyes – turning around in their chairs – to you. When you looked up – somewhat puzzled and worried that you had done something wrong – Nanami snapped out of the trance that had stirred the member in his pants, blinked away, and began the class.

It was pure torture. How could you be so filthily good? Your voice sounded like the tinkling of a fragile bell, yet he had seen you…

Heavens. While explaining, Nanami had to keep a sharp eye on the bulge in his pants, and although it wasn't very large at the moment – simply less flaccid than usual – he thrust his hand into his pocket to avoid raising suspicion.

Once he finished explaining the theory, it was the students' turn to complete the worksheet. Nanami took a drink from his water bottle, sat in his teacher's chair, and took a deep breath as he prepared to grade exams.

He barely managed to grade a few. Still hidden under the hand with which he held his forehead, Nanami's hazel eyes drifted upward – like a shipwreck survivor seeking the surface – over the computer screen, until they found you.

Your semi-bare legs were covered by long socks that circled below your knee, and you had the habit of resting the tips of your loafers as if you couldn't reach the floor. With one hand you made your pink pencil dance – with a Vaporeon eraser on the back tip – and with the other hand you tucked your hair behind your ear. Unlike how he saw you yesterday, you were now hunched forward.

You looked up at your teacher several times, causing a lightning bolt of electricity every time your eyes met.

Nanami feared being too obvious, but he couldn't help it; you were like an endangered species whose memory he didn't want to forget: wet, tight, naughty, and stealthy.

What he never expected was that, when you made eye contact again, you stood up – pencil and notebook in hand – and navigated through your classmates' backpacks to your teacher's desk.

He straightened up as best he could before your small figure reached his side.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in a falsely calm voice.

You leaned over his desk, your hair falling with a mesmerizing movement. You rested the notebook on the teacher's exams and pointed with your pencil to one of the questions.

“Is the wording correct?” The whisper of your voice gave him goosebumps. “The calculation isn't working for me.”

Nanami's lips turned into a soft, gentle smile. Of course you would doubt the wording itself before your own skills.

With this proximity, your perfume seemed to violate your teacher's senses and, under the table, his cock twitched with a disgusting need.

“Show me how you do it,” Nanami murmured, pointing to the paper. “Show me the mistake.”

You obeyed without question like the good girl you were. Nanami watched you closely, and for a second, it seemed to him that your eyes dropped indecently to his lips - leaving him stiff as a board. Then, you leaned down even further – with your ass unconsciously arched – and began to write.

Nanami listened intently, and to his satisfaction, you were right.

“Good… Very good, MC,” he nodded with an elegant smile. “You are a brilliant girl.”

Like someone placing bait before a school of fish, Nanami leaned in closer for privacy from your classmates, and rested a hand – somewhat risky depending on who saw it – on the back of your knee.

“How do you do it, MC?” he asked with a glint in his eyes. “How do you do it to exceed all expectations? I mean… classes, clubs, swimming… I imagine you get home tired and without any desire to study; I imagine you don't have time to do anything else.”

To Nanami's surprise, you blushed with an innocent smile and leaned toward him, accepting the contact of his hand on your knee – a paternal gesture, not at all ill-intentioned. At least, that's what you thought.

Seeing your positive reaction, Nanami's hand settled, circling your entire calf in a grip that you felt deep inside. It was strange, but oddly comforting.

“I don't have much time, honestly,” you laughed softly. “But the reward is always worth it.”

“I see, I see…” Nanami nodded, his fingers finding the elastic of your socks and playing with it. Your legs weakened at that playfulness, but you prevented the dirty thoughts clouding your vision from affecting the good relationship you had with Mr. Nanami.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know how dirty his student was.

The last thing he wanted was for you to see him as an old fossil. He had to test the waters, even if only once.

“What would you like me to give you as a reward for finding this mistake?”

Nanami's voice barely stirred the air, silent and treacherous to his moral compass.

You tilted your head innocently.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there something you want… something I can give you in exchange…?”

Nanami's hand began to move up the back of your knee, slowly and meticulously. You stopped like a deer in headlights; your breath caught, and you looked at your classmates, all unaware of what was happening behind the teacher's desk.

“W-well…”

When Nanami's hand reached the top of your leg, his long fingers gently squeezed the circumference of your thigh and you jumped with flushed cheeks. Nanami looked at you with such calmness… It was obvious he didn't know the effect he had on you, that those paternal caresses didn't bring peace, but instead made your panties wet.

Heavens… You couldn't let Nanami down this way.

You didn't realize it, but just as Nanami's finger was about to stroke the cotton of your underwear, you took a step to the side.

“Nothing, Mr,” you said nervously, pulling away just before the droplets of moisture from your pussy touched Nanami's hand. “It's not necessary, really.”

A sigh of resignation escaped Nanami, his hips involuntarily thrusting against the air.

“Very well then,” he said with a fake smile. “You may sit down.”

With a dull ache in his balls, Nanami alerted the class to the error and spent the rest of the hour grading exams with his head held as low as possible.

He couldn't believe what kind of monster he was. His hand burned, as if touching you were worthy of divine punishment. What the hell had crossed his mind? At what point would a young girl like you be interested in him?

Heavens…

As soon as the bell rang, he left the classroom without even being able to see the damp residue you had left on your chair. Still with his semi-hard cock within the confines of his suit, he entered the teachers' lounge and sought a spot at the large table where he could take refuge among adults and cold blood. He took out the exams and began to grade.

“Professor Nanami,” a female voice startled him. It was Min, one of the foreign language teachers. She was a couple of years younger than Nanami, with smooth skin and large, dreamy eyes.

“How is the preparation for the sports tournament going?” she asked.

Nanami swallowed hard. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about how he would have to endure seeing you in that swimsuit… He wondered how many times you had managed to come during the whole stream. And his ears turned red as a tomato thinking that, among all the puddles around the pool, some belonged to you.

“Mr. Nanami?”

“What,” he startled. “Yes, yes, the sports tournament… Good, the students are putting a lot of effort into the fundraising banners.”

“I’m so glad… I’m sure th—”

He didn't even stay to listen to her. His mind had expelled any external noise or image, and he could only think about how – surely – you would stream again tonight.

He slammed his briefcase shut, stood up dragging the chair, and fled the teachers' lounge. A few meters away and with a trembling hand, he grabbed the knob of one of the doors that had no glass in the window, looked both ways, and slipped inside.

The school archive served more as a memorial than anything else since all reports were now done electronically, but important documents about all the students who had stepped foot in the school were kept there just in case.

With a mixture of shame and desperation, Nanami searched through the filing cabinets with an erection that seemed to grow more and more – anticipating the madness he wanted to commit.

Muttering nonsense while he searched, he pulled out the file for your grade, rested it on the floor, and knelt down to turn the pages. His cock throbbed upon finding your file; his balls rose and fell with need.

“Fuck me…” he muttered as he recognized what he was about to do.

He opened the iron rings of the binder and stole your file. Kneeling, he studied it as if it explained the origin of humanity.

It listed your date of birth and the hospital, how many siblings you had, your parents' custody, your food preferences, and - most importantly - where you lived.

Nanami ran a finger over your photo; you were even younger. At first, he wasn't aware, but so much anticipation and so much sudden movement – so much thinking about visiting your house, about peeking through your window while you touched yourself among pink stuffed animals – had triggered the most shameful of reactions.

He felt a bolt of lightning run down his spine. Suddenly it became very hot. His hips thrust at the air and his balls retracted.

He was going to come in his pants.

“F…!”

Nanami raced against the clock, undid his zipper, lowered his underwear, and leaned forward to avoid staining his clothes. A desperate groan escaped him. His cock jumped out – red, veiny, and full of precum – and he came with a single strong jet that soaked your student file and left small white pools on the floor.

Nanami's entire body trembled, and he had to lean on the floor to catch his breath. He heard the footsteps of his students on the other side of the door, but clouded by ecstasy, he felt the need to grab his cock to milk himself to the end. He put the tip of his cock over your photo and rubbed it while small spurts painted your innocent smile.

His dirty little secret… His dirty little girl… He knew you’d love to taste him. And, if penetration was not for you, if vibration was your thing - like you had showcased in last nights stream - he could always rub his cock in your clit for as long as you wanted.

When the chill passed, he took a deep breath, stood up slowly, tucked his dirty cock into his underwear, put your file in his briefcase, and went to his next class with a desperate need to end his working hours and pay you a visit.

If you want to be notified when the next chapter drops, just leave a comment below or send me an ask!