Miyu would wish her night was going to be that exciting.

But no, like every other night, it would be mundane. In her modest house in the quiet suburbs, the building where she and her husband lived.

The smell of steamed rice and miso soup was in the air that night, staples of their unchanging routine. Miyu moved about the space like she always did, her slim figure clad in a loose house dress that hung straight down her body.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused for a moment to admire. What she saw wasn't very admirable.

Some people used to tell her she was pretty. Pretty in a delicate way. They didn't tell her that anymore. And now, all Miyu saw was a lonely woman with long dark brown hair tied back and desperate eyes that no one seemed to notice.

She had just finished preparing dinner: a simple spread of grilled fish, rice, pickled vegetables, and soup, arranged neatly on the low table.

The clock on the wall ticked past 8 PM, and the food was cooling, the steam long gone. Miyu glanced at it with a sigh, her mind wandering to earlier that afternoon.

After another frustrating day at the Sunshine Center, where Renji's presence had teased her relentlessly without relief, she had retreated home early.

Alone in the bedroom, she had pulled out the boxers he had given her. She was worried that other things could affect his scent so she wrapped it up in a plastic bag.

It was depressing, she knew but that was her life now. And because of that, Renji's scent still clinged to the fabric like a drug.

She had masturbated furiously, her thin fingers working between her legs as she imagined his youthful body over hers, his glorious cock filling her completely.

The orgasm had been intense but hollow, leaving her craving more. Now, wiping her hands on her apron, she straightened up just as a knock echoed through the door.

Miyu hurried to open it, forcing a smile onto her face. There stood her husband, Takashi, a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit, his tie loosened and briefcase in hand.

He looked exhausted, his face etched with the lines of corporate drudgery, his eyes distant as always.

"Welcome home, dear," she said softly, stepping aside to let him in. She leaned in for a habitual peck on the cheek, but he merely nodded, brushing past her without a word, kicking off his shoes in the entryway.

After he undressed, they settled at the table for dinner. Like always, dinner was like a prayer.

Silent.

Miyu served him first, ladling soup into his bowl with care. Giving him anxious glances, she tried to spark some life into the evening. "How was work today, Takashi? Anything interesting happen?"

He poked at the fish with his chopsticks, taking a small bite. "Same as always. Meetings, reports."

His response was clipped like she expected but hoped against. Even then, his gaze was fixed on his plate rather than her.

Miyu nodded, forcing enthusiasm. "The team at the center had a good day. We distributed to three places. It's rewarding to see the smiles on people's faces, you know?"

She paused, hoping for engagement, but he just grunted. Undeterred, she pressed on. "How's the food? I tried a new seasoning on the fish."

Takashi chewed slowly, then set his chopsticks down. "It's cold."

"Oh." Miyu's smile faltered, a pang of disappointment twisting in her chest.

This was their life: boring, predictable, void of warmth. No laughter, no shared dreams, just the robotic sequence of existence.

She ate in silence for a moment, gathering her courage. "Takashi, there's something I wanted to ask you. There's this very smart kid at the center. He's incredibly gifted, always helping out with the distributions, quick learner, so dedicated. He mentioned that the company you work for, Vanguard Global Industries, is his dream place to work. He wants an intern position. Uhm… something entry-level, just to get his foot in the door."

Takashi didn't look up, scooping rice into his mouth. "The spots are all taken, Miyu."

Miyu's eyes showed disappointment and panic. "But you're the hiring director," she persisted. "You could make an exception. He's brilliant, really. Top of his class potential, and he's got such drive. It would mean the world to him—m, and to me, since he's been such a help at the center."

Takashi finally met her eyes, and he looked irritated. "I said the spots are taken. We're not hiring extras this quarter. Now eat and leave me alone."

Miyu fell quiet, lowering her head and gazing down at her food. This was her only chance to have Renji. She had lost it.

Dinner ended in that heavy silence, plates cleared and washed without a word exchanged.

Later, they prepared for bed. Takashi insisted on showering separately, as he always did these days, no shared intimacy under the warm water, no chance for closeness.

"You go first," he muttered, retreating to the living room to check his phone. Miyu stood under the spray alone, the water cascading over her flat, slender body, her thoughts drifting to Renji again.

After finger-fucking her horny self, she left for her husband to bath and when they were both done, they climbed into bed

Takashi stayed on the far end, his back to her, the space between them a chasm.

Miyu lay there, staring at the ceiling, her body humming with unmet need. Even after touching herself, she still couldn't help it. She was so horny, desperate.

Her mind was ravaged with images of Renji: the god of pleasure, the man who could swoop in and shatter this monotony. His strong scent from those boxers, his glorious cock that she craved so badly.

She needed him to fuck her, to claim her, to make her feel something real.

Glancing at Takashi's unmoving form, she thought, maybe tonight he could help ease the fire.

Rolling closer, she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, her voice soft and pleading. "Takashi... it's been so long. Could we...?"

He shrugged her off without turning. "Not tonight. Go to bed, Miyu. I'm tired."

"Oh…" Miyu stared at him. Another rejection. From her own husband.

Downcast, sad, and dejected, she rolled away, tears pricking her eyes. Why did her life have to be so bland?

'Please Renji, rescue me from this life and give me one with exploration and adventure. Please, Renji, come fuck me like I'm a toy for your celestial cock to use. Please….'

She was praying to him. But she knew the only way he would answer, the only way to earn that promised fuck, was clear.

She had to get him the intern job.

Miyu narrowed her eyes and dried her tears. To hell with her husband! She was going to get Renji inside the company!

In her first true act of rebellion against her husband, Miyu waited until his breathing deepened into snores.

Once she was certain he was fast asleep, she got up silently from the bed, her bare feet padding across the cool floor as she crept to the living room where his briefcase sat by the door.

Her heart pounded. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this, fear and excitement surged through her.

She clicked it open quietly, the latches giving with a soft snap. Inside, amid folders and documents, she found the hiring list for interns. With trembling hands, she pulled a pen from the side pocket and, at the bottom of the spreadsheet, carefully wrote "Renji Kenshiro, Age 18, School: Seihou High"

For remark, she wrote: "Highly recommended, exceptional potential."

Then she closed the briefcase, returned to bed with a hammering heart, and lay there, a secret smile curving her lips.

Answer my prayer this time, God of Pleasure.

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