The apartment door clicked shut with a finality that echoed through the silent space, sealing the three of them inside like a secret that could never escape.

Kaori stood there in the entryway, her soaked lace panties tangled around her ankles, thighs slick with her own arousal, trembling like a leaf in a storm.

Her pencil skirt was hiked up around her hips from Renji's earlier assault, exposing the pale curves of her ass and the glistening folds of her pussy.

She could feel the cool air of the living room brushing against her overheated skin, a stark contrast to the burning shame and unwanted heat pooling between her legs.

How had it come to this?

Her own home, invaded not just by a burglar—who she somehow suspected was Renji himself—but by this twisted tableau of desire and dominance.

And how could a woman like Sergeant Miyako Endo be involved in this? Was Renji also fucking the daughter of the former commissioner? How? He was an ordinary school boy.

Kaori's eyes shyly glanced in Miyako's direction. She was perched on the couch like a desperate slut, her hand trailed absently down her own thigh, fingers pressing into the fabric of her pants.

She was forced to watch while wanting to indulge.

It was like Renji was her master and she had no other choice but to obey.

Kaori felt Renji's hand.

It was still on her lower back, firm and possessive, guiding her forward with a gentle push that felt anything but gentle.

"Move," he commanded, his voice low and laced with that infuriating confidence, the kind only a teenage boy with unnatural power could wield.

"Into the living room. Let's get started, Teach."

Kaori stumbled slightly as she stepped out of her panties, leaving them discarded on the floor like a symbol of her crumbling resistance.

Her heels clicked unevenly on the hardwood, each step sending jolts up her legs that mingled with the lingering ache from his fingers stretching her earlier.

She wanted to run, to scream, to call for help—but who would come?

The police were already here, or rather, one of them was.

Besides, she didn't really want to do any of those things. She just liked the feeling of wanting to do them because that made this feel so much better.

It was a twisted desire.

Kaori was ashamed admitting it to herself. But at least Renji won't know. He won't know that she really wanted him to fuck her like she'd seen him fuck Haruka.

Renji steered her to the room and he dragged a single armchair to the center, upholstered in soft gray fabric.

It was her reading chair, a place of solitude and peace, but now, it was about to be defiled.

"Sit," he ordered, pressing down on her shoulders until her knees buckled and she collapsed into it, her skirt riding up further to expose her completely from the waist down.

Kaori's hands instinctively moved to cover herself, but Renji was faster, grabbing her wrists and yanking them up above her head, pinning them against the back of the chair with one strong hand.

She gasped, her chest heaving, her full breasts straining against the thin blouse that was already damp with sweat.

"Renji, please," Kaori whispered, her voice cracking with a mix of fear and something darker, something she didn't want to name. "This is insane. You're my student. We can't—"

"Oh, we can," he interrupted, stepping behind the chair so his body loomed over her, his free hand coming down to cup one of her breasts through the fabric.

He squeezed, hard enough to make her arch her back involuntarily, a sharp moan escaping her lips.

The sensation shot straight to her core, her pussy clenching around nothing, already aching for more.

Why? Why did his touch feel like fire, like electricity, overriding every rational thought?

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight it, but her body betrayed her, nipples hardening instantly under his palm.

Renji chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through her. "Look at you, Teach. Moaning like a whore already, and I've barely started. This is your punishment for stressing me out all day. Making me run around, thinking, worrying about you reporting me to the principal."

He squeezed her angrily, thinking about how he'd been so scared for his future. "You almost gave me a freaking panic attack."

Kaori whimpered. A weak apology.

"How dare you try to turn me in for fucking a teacher when you've secretly wanted this all along? Admit it, Ms Katsura, you've always wanted me to fuck you, haven't you?"

Kaori shook her head frantically, her long hair whipping across her face, cheeks burning with humiliation. "No! That's not true! I never—ahh!"

Her denial dissolved into another moan as he pinched her nipple through the blouse, twisting just enough to send a wave of pleasure-pain radiating through her.

"Stop lying, slut," Renji growled, leaning down so his breath was hot against her ear. "Your body's telling the truth even if your mouth won't. You're dripping for me, Teach. You love how this feels, don't you?"

He gave her breasts a good spank through the fabric of her clothes. She moaned louder, head whipping backwards. "Renji. Please…. This isn't ethical. It's wrong."

"You've said that already. Just admit that you can't resist. It's wrong, so fucking wrong, but your pussy doesn't care. Everything in that prim little soul of yours is screaming to fight back, but your body? It wants it. Craves it. Because deep down, you belong to me now. No matter how hard you try to deny it."

She whimpered, thighs rubbing together slickly, the friction only heightening her torment.

But she knew Renji was right.

She couldn't understand it; her mind recoiled at the idea of her student using her like this, dominating her in her own home while a police officer watched in silent hunger from the couch.

But such was the power of the Milf Note.

Its magic pulsed through Kaori's veins like an invisible aphrodisiac, rewriting her desires, making every touch amplified, every command irresistible.

Her soul fought, but her flesh surrendered, and the conflict only made the pleasure sharper, more unbearable.

Renji released her wrists just long enough to grab the hem of her blouse. "Hands stay up, Teach. Don't make me spank these your comically fat breasts again."

With a moan, Kaori obeyed, arms trembling above her head, as he yanked the blouse up and over, tossing it aside.

Her bra followed, unclasped with a flick of his fingers, exposing her full, heavy breasts to the cool air. They bounced free, nipples erect and begging for attention, the pale skin flushed with arousal.

His hands descended immediately, cupping both breasts fully, kneading the soft flesh with deliberate slowness.

Kaori moaned relentlessly, the sound filling the room like a symphony of defeat. "Oh God, Renji... why does it feel so good?" she gasped, her head falling back against the chair.

He touched her further, playing with her soft round boobs.

But the more he fondled it, the more he noticed something. She was reacting heavily to everything he did.

Her body. He saw her many times react so visibly, so intensely.

Every squeeze made her hips buck, every brush of his thumbs over her nipples drew out a fresh, throaty cry.

Her skin pebbled with goosebumps, and she was panting, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Renji's brows lifted. Could Ms Kaori have a sensory overload kink?

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