Miyu's eyes were widened to saucers, shock exploding across her features like a bomb.

Strikingly different to how they had been a second ago, her fingers were frozen, stuck inside her pussy. Renji saw a fresh gush of juice drip from her cunt to join the puddle on the tiled floor.

Plat.

The sound echoed in the quietness.

She stared at him. Not merely because she had been caught, but because she was surprised that he was the one who caught her.

Her mouth fell open further, face draining of color beneath the flush, her hand still buried inside herself, the boxers tumbling from her grasp to her lap.

"Renji?!" she repeated with a cracking voice, pulling her fingers out with a wet pop, her skirt falling haphazardly over her thighs as she tried to stand.

Renji didn't even know what to say so he just watched.

Her knees wobbled like a newborn fawn as she took her feet, one hand grabbing the stall wall for support while the other wiped desperately at her mouth as if to erase the evidence of her sniffing.

Renji's shock lasted only a second more before it finally turned to amusement.

He'd almost forgotten that Miyu was still enveloped with the Milf Note's magic, leaving her completely enchanted by desire for so many days.

It must have been really unbearable for her.

A dark chuckle bubbled up from his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, his bladder still aching but the scene too delicious to interrupt.

"Well, well, Mrs. Ishikawa. Sniffing my dirty boxers while fingering yourself in a public bathroom? That's a new low, even for you."

Miyu's cheeks burned crimson, her eyes darting to the boxers and back to him, hands fluttering like birds as she tried to smooth her skirt, the puddle spreading under her feet making a soft sloshing sound as she shifted.

"I—I can explain, Renji-kun, it's not what it looks like—"

Renji's laugh was sharp, mocking, stepping closer until he loomed over her. He was so close he could smell her simple perfume and her horny scent, while she could smell his youthful, masculine energy that rewired her thoughts.

"What do you mean it's not what it looks like? What else could it be? Hah! I can't believe you've kept my boxers all this time. Didn't even wash them, did you? Just sniffing my cock scent and sweat like a desperate junkie. That's pathetic, Miyu. Absolutely pathetic."

She backed against the stall wall, tile cold against her back, eyes wide and pleading, her skirt still rumpled as tears of her pussy juice trickled down her thigh.

"You have to understand, Renji, please. I couldn't help it, I needed to keep it to satisfy me. I can't control what's happening to me—"

Renji reached down and snatched the boxers from her, holding them up between two fingers like they were contaminated.

The fabric was stiff and stained, and the scent wafting up even stronger now.

"You kept it dirty on purpose, didn't you? Sniffing my balls-sweat while you finger-fuck yourself. What would your husband say if he knew his wife was such a pervert?"

Miyu's knees buckled slightly, but instead of backing away, she surged forward, hands grabbing for his shirt, eyes wild and desperate, voice a broken whisper.

"Renji, please, let's not talk about my husband. I understand now! I understand everything. I understand the lesson you were trying to teach me."

Renji raised an eyebrow. "Really? What exactly do you understand?"

"You see? I know who you are! You, Renji, you're the reincarnated god of pleasure! That's the only explanation!"

Renji's raised brows clenched. "Huh?"

"It makes sense! I don't see how I couldn't see it before. It's only you, you're the only one who makes me feel this way, no other man, not my husband, no one! I can't get you out of my mind, it's torture, every day I think of you using me, fucking me, breaking me. Please, god Renji, use me as you desire!"

Renji held her back with one hand on her shoulder, shock rippling through him as he looked down at her.

'What the hell is this crazy bitch talking about? Why does she always act so extreme and make up stuff?'

Look at her face. It was twisted in obsession, eyes glazed with something that went beyond lust. It was mania. She looked like a junkie on withdrawal, shaking for her fix.

Her body was trembling, sweat beading on her upper lip, fingers clutching his shirt so hard the fabric tore slightly.

But her eyes were kinda cute. They way they were looking at him with a vibe of worship. Like she really did believe that he was a god. A god of pleasure.

Pfft. That was ridiculous.

But it was just like Miyu to exaggerate, to overreact in her dramatic way.

However, this was something else entirely. She looked possessed, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her thighs pressing together as if to soothe the ache between them, her whole body leaning toward him like a flower to the sun.

He pushed her back gently but firmly, calming his voice while teasing her, a smirk playing on his lips as he held the boxers just out of reach.

"Whoa, slow down, Mrs Ishikawa. Calm down. Alright, alright, you've discovered my true identity. But you can't tell anyone I'm the reincarnated god of pleasure, okay? That's our little secret."

She nodded frantically, eyes locked on the boxers like they were holy relics, her breathing slowing slightly but still ragged, her fingers twisting in her skirt. "Yes, yes, secret, I promise—"

"But fucking any woman is something they have to earn," Renji continued, his voice dropping to a teasing growl. "My cock is a godly treasure so If you want it…"

Miyu fell to her knees instantly, hands clasping in front of her like prayer. "Please, please, Renji-kun, I want it so bad, I need it, I'll do anything, anything for your cock, it's all I think about, please fuck me, use me, break me, I need it so badly—"

Renji's smirk widened. "Well then, this is what you must do. Get me an intern job at Ayame Sada's company. I know your husband works at Vanguard Global Industries. That's the big company you bragged to me that your husband works at, isn't it?"

Miyu nodded eagerly.

"Good. I want an intern weekend job there. Get me one through your husband and I'll fuck you as much as you want. I'll finally give you my celestial cock."

Miyu's eyes glittered. "It will be difficult but nothing will stop me from doing it for your sake, master! I'll make him get you the job, just please forgive me for my sins against the god of pleasure and fuck my unworthy body to stupor."

Renji couldn't help the smile on his face. "Get it done then. And don't fuck this up."

He turned to the toilet, unzipped, and started peeing with a strong stream that hit the water with a loud splash.

Miyu stayed on her knees, staring at his cock with biting lips, her hand slipping between her thighs to finger herself lightly.

She watched him piss quietly, moaning once, eyes glazed with hunger. Renji wondered if he should have peed on her rather.

He shook off the last drops, zipped up, and petted her. "Good girl," then he left the bathroom.

Hah! He couldn't believe it! She really thought he was some kind of god. A god of pleasure. Miyu just can't give it up with all her crazy theories.

Okay maybe the Milf Note was some kind of magic, but that didn't make him a god though.

He paused, squinting his eyes.

Hold on. Did it? Did it make him a god?

He pulled out the Note from his bag and stared at it. 'Really though. I have to ask this question. Where did you come from, Milf Note?'

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