Chapter Text
The thin layer of fabric between her lips and her prize is both infuriating and intoxicating.
A very large part of Yuuji is howling for bare flesh, damp and ripe with need, but an equally large part wants to go slow and savor this, tasting and learning her teacher inch by aching inch until her tongue has been branded a hundred times over by the taste and heat and shape of Gojou’s cunt.
She wants Gojou haunted by the touch of her tongue.
That’s greedy, Yuuji knows that, and she’s not usually like this, she’s not—she just wants to feel good and make people feel good, that’s all.
But this isn’t just someone; it’s Gojou.
Yuuji buries a groan, half frustration and half pure need, in the silky smooth fabric clinging to Gojou’s folds. There’s nothing surprising about the way it grows even wetter. It’s almost soaked through now, even though Yuuji hasn’t done much. It took her way too long to even scrounge up the brain cells to do more than dig her nose and mouth into Gojou’s panties and breathe her in, over and over, and even after she managed to pull back enough to actually use her mouth, that damp heat lingered.
It still lingers, sticky on her skin and hot in her lungs.
Gojou hasn’t made her stop or asked her to hurry along. She hasn’t said anything at all, not after that last shuddering rasp of Yuuji’s name. Her legs tense and untense on Yuuji’s shoulders, without any rhyme or rhythm.
Yuuji sucks in another greedy breath, her own cunt clenching at how Gojou’s scent has grown stronger, riper. She puts her tongue to it again, lapping at the wet fabric until it grows even darker, Yuuji’s spit mingling with Gojou’s slick, and the taste soaks her tongue, a pleasantly sharp bite that turns sweet down her throat.
She dips her head a little, digging her tongue into Gojou’s taint and licking her way up without letting up on the pressure, and when she reaches the cloth-covered clit, Gojou’s thighs try to crush her again, but she eases up before Yuuji has to make her, spreading her thighs so wide that they threaten to fall off Yuuji’s shoulders. She slides her hands under them just in case, and if that lets her keep Gojou spread open just like that, it’s only a bonus.
Yuuji gives the clit a wet, suckling kiss. Gojou’s muscles turn to steel against her hands, and a tight little noise skewers the air.
She’s tempted to linger but doesn’t, mouthing her way to the far side, where the panties are struggling to cover the outer lips of Gojou’s pussy. Yuuji tongues the crease of Gojou’s thigh, tasting mostly sweat—with an unmistakable aftertaste that sinks into her gut. She presses her tongue flat to the edge of the panties, and it’s mostly fabric but there’s skin too. And when she drags her tongue up, the fabric slips to the side.
Smooth flesh greets her tongue. Gojou’s shaved herself here.
Yuuji’s blood rushes in every direction. Her own underwear is starting to stick to her cunt, but god, she feels dizzy, like she’ll die right here in Gojou’s cunt. She’d welcome it.
It’s just—
She never thought about this either, and it’s not like she cares what she finds down a woman’s pants, but something about Gojou having done this—shaved herself, prepared herself—before walking into that bar and finding Yuuji and taking her home—it makes her crazy.
It makes her hungry.
Yuuji sucks flesh and fabric into her mouth, and her own name breaks open in the air above her. Gojou says nothing else, and Yuuji just keeps sucking, her teeth safely tucked away while her tongue laves over her heady mouthful, and when she lets go, it’s just to lick all over it, till there’s not an inch of dry fabric on this side. A bit of Gojou’s pussy is sticking out of it anyway, pink and swollen and wet from Yuuji’s mouth.
She licks at it—and under the panties.
She finds a pool of slick, thin and stringy on her tongue, and when she presses in deeper to feel more, taste more, Gojou spits her name out like a curse.
Yuuji snags the panties between her teeth and tears them off.
“Ah—” Gojou’s hips lift off the mattress, and Yuuji doesn’t know if they’re chasing her mouth or just reacting to that moment of violent pressure, but they settle back down with equal force, denting the thick mattress like they can sink right in.
When Yuuji rears back to spit out the scrap of fabric in her mouth, she finds Gojou looking at her like she’s a god.
There, in that moment, Yuuji feels like one.
It’s nice.
She licks her lips, tasting slick and sex, and Gojou’s eyes drop to the motion, growing darker. She’s a vision all over, mostly naked and marked up all pretty and spread wide open. Yuuji drags her eyes in stuttering shifts down the length of Gojou’s body, and her own body grows tight and hot in answer.
Gojou’s breasts are heaving, and despite the air conditioning, there’s a thin sheen of sweat on every visible inch of her skin. Yuuji could lick her all over and never starve, but it’s the blushing pink folds between Gojou’s legs that turn her brain to static.
They’re sopping wet, and the light makes them glisten in filthy invitation.
Yuuji thumbs aside the bits of torn fabric that’re all that’s left of the panties, her breath catching in her throat as a thin trail of slick trickles down Gojou’s taint to vanish into where her body meets the bedding.
“You’re pretty here too, sensei,” Yuuji says breathlessly. “The prettiest I’ve seen.”
She thinks she sees Gojou’s hole contract.
“Is it now?” Gojou says, a bite to her voice that Yuuji has definitely heard before—but only in the classroom. “Then stop sweet-talking me and put your mouth to better use, Yuuji-chan.”
Yuuji beams up at her teacher, her usual irritation at the honorific failing to show. “Yes, sensei!”
Gojou’s expression does something complicated that Yuuji can’t decipher before she’s diving down, pressing herself tongue-first to Gojou’s messy cunt.
It’s a sweet assault on her tastebuds, quickly overwhelming even the lingering milder notes of Gojou’s own slick with a fresher, sharper flavor, and Yuuji tries to slow down and take her time, savoring it like she told herself she would, except every burst of slick on her tongue just makes her more and more ravenous, like all of her organs have shuffled to the side to leave her entire torso a black pit of hunger, and before she knows it, her tongue is buried inside Gojou, as deep as it can get and straining for more, and her face is wet from nose to jaw.
She breathes in deep, the scent as pure as it can get with how her nose is practically crushed against Gojou’s cunt. It claws through her alongside the taste soaking her tongue, their mingled heat coursing down her throat to pool in her chest, her gut, her cunt.
She drags her tongue out just to close her mouth around Gojou’s little hole and suck, and she mostly gets a warm little mouthful of wet, heated flesh, but when she sucks again, hotter and hungrier, slick flows into her mouth with a dirty slurping sound.
A shrill noise pierces the air, killing a silence Yuuji didn’t even register past the rush of her own blood in her ears.
She does it again, sealing her mouth over Gojou at a new imperfect angle and sucking wetly, and it’s still loud and dirty and messy, but her teacher’s taste floods her mouth to the tune of a hoarse, ragged cry.
And Gojou wasn’t silent when Yuuji was sucking on her tits, but she wasn’t loud like this.
Yuuji really likes it.
She could stay like this forever too, gulping down everything Gojou has to give, but she’s achingly aware of the rest of Gojou’s cunt, from the wet folds crushed against her face to the cute little clit she’s barely given any attention to, and she still lingers for a few more seconds, suckling gently on the sides of Gojou’s hole and lapping up its answering gush, but then she drags her face up, rubbing her nose and her lips all over that slick flesh until her mouth is puckered against those delicate folds.
They’re warm and swollen with blood, and when Yuuji presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to that spot, Gojou’s heels make a spirited attempt at breaking her spine.
She lets that pressure sink into her, pressing her mouth—her whole face—more firmly into Gojou’s cunt, rubbing her closed lips over the clit before opening back up. Pressing her tongue against it earns her a guttural groan, followed by steely thighs trying to crush her head, again, and Yuuji peels them apart just like she did the last time, all without taking her tongue off her new favorite spot in the world.
She teases the little hood, prodding its edges with the tip of her tongue. If she could spare a hand, she could peel it back and see the little blood-drunk bulb underneath, maybe put her mouth on that too if Gojou’s the type to like it, but she’s got her hands full with keeping Gojou’s thighs from crushing her skull or slipping off her shoulders, so Yuuji makes do with just her tongue, flicking and rubbing it over Gojou’s clit till the noises coming from the bed become louder and thinner and tighter, telling Yuuji more than words ever could.
Gojou says Yuuji’s name too, the syllables catching in her throat in ways that’d never happen at school.
It’s one of those strangled cries—the first half of Yuuji’s name breaking free of Gojou’s throat with a fury that dies writhing in the breathy gasp that follows—that makes Yuuji decide to stop teasing and really commit, and Gojou doesn’t exactly sound happy when Yuuji closes her mouth over her clit and sucks, but Yuuji’s starting to suspect that Gojou’s just one of those women who wear their pleasure violently.
She suckles gently on the clit and then presses her tongue flat against it, massaging the flesh gently and then not so gently. There’s always something so heady about this—the heat of the flesh under her tongue, the taste that never grows less ripe, the swollen need pulsing under a thin layer of protective skin.
Her teacher’s pleasure is thrumming in her mouth, and it’s the most exquisite thing she’s ever tasted.
Gojou’s scent is also thick in the air, streaming into Yuuji every time she breathes in and lingering even as she breathes out, and in no time at all, it’s like this is all she’s ever breathed—and will ever breathe.
It’s dizzying.
Yuuji sinks into it, all of her narrowing to the soft flesh under her tongue and the rich scent in her cells. It feeds her hunger—a quiet, contained frenzy. She shoves her tongue harder against Gojou’s clit, massaging furiously, and when it grows tired, she just pants wetly into it for a moment, sometimes sucking a little. It’s all a mess, Gojou’s cunt and her own face, and it’s not just slick anymore but spit too, Yuuji making as much of a mess as Gojou is.
That’s also a dirty thrill—her spit warming Gojou’s pretty pussy, mingling with her juices to leave it wet and sopping.
Yuuji groans, and Gojou jolts all over, pushing her cunt up against Yuuji’s face and bruising her back with those strong legs, and Yuuji greedily sinks her fingers deeper into the flexing muscles of Gojou’s thighs and shoves her tongue back against her clit, licking wetly from the slit to where Gojou’s shaved mound sits all baby smooth, and her name lashes in the air, demand or plea or something else, and Yuuji groans again, latching back onto Gojou’s clit.
There are more tight noises, more twitching movements, and the bulk of Yuuji’s focus is on working her tongue against Gojou’s sweet, swollen flesh, but she still feels a surge of appreciation for how loud Gojou is, how present. This is nothing like the woman who limply let Yuuji kiss her and then hung her head afterward. The name spilling from Gojou’s mouth over and over, sometimes butchered with need in the sweetest ways, is a far cry from the way she stopped and stared at Yuuji like she was so surprised to see her here, watching and touching and wanting Gojou.
This is more like the handsy menace in the car, right down to the thighs straining to choke Yuuji for the crime of making their owner feel good.
It’s not the way Yuuji imagined Gojou in bed—maybe Yuuji kinda made a point of not imagining her dangerously beautiful teacher in bed—but it feels right.
A shout shatters in the air, high-pitched and shuddering like no sound Gojou’s made till now, and Yuuji’s almost startled into pulling away, except there’s a hand in her hair right that moment, gripping tight and shoving her down, and Yuuji clues in just in time to massage Gojou’s clit with her tongue, gently coaxing out what she hopes is more and more pleasure.
Gojou lets it happen, sharp nails digging meanly into Yuuji’s scalp—until she doesn’t, that merciless pressure gaining direction just to shove Yuuji’s head to the side.
Yuuji huffs a muffled protest against the crease of Gojou’s thigh, but it’s hard to complain too much about being buried in soft, warm flesh, even if it’s a little hard to breathe.
She kisses Gojou there too, opening her mouth to suck on the skin a little. The fingers in her hair loosen, only to grip even tighter the next second.
Yuuji lets them yank her away from the cradle of Gojou’s thighs.
She finds her teacher with her free arm barred across her face, hiding her eyes. And Yuuji wants to see them very badly, but Gojou’s still a feast from cheeks to breasts. Her flush has darkened all over, making the bruises on her chest and neck stand out even more starkly, and she’s drenched in sweat now, like she’s run a marathon instead of just lying there with her legs spread while Yuuji did all the work. The wrinkled dress clinging to her stomach just makes her look more lewd.
Yuuji stares for a long moment, committing this sight to memory. She’s not stupid; she knows this might be the only time she’ll have this.
Then she asks, “Did you come, Gojou-sensei?”
There’s a wheezing laugh. Gojou’s mouth curves in a way that snags every iota of Yuuji’s attention.
“Sure did,” she says. “You little beast.”
Something about that strange phrase—endearment?—squirms under Yuuji’s skin. It’s not unpleasant.
She grips Gojou’s legs a little tighter. “But you want more, right?”
Gojou finally takes her arm off her face, and the eyes underneath open slowly. Thin slivers of blue fix on Yuuji.
“You do,” Gojou tells her. “And you’ll take it, hm?”
Yuuji swallows, the click of her throat too loud in this new, strange silence. Gojou’s eyes are unwavering. Every time Yuuji breathes, the smell of pussy assaults her nostrils. There’s slick and spit drying all over her face, and the taste is still fresh and warm in her mouth.
“Yes,” she breathes, falling back into Gojou’s cunt.
And she holds that narrowed blue gaze for as long as she can, but it’s only a moment before wet, glistening pink takes over her vision instead.
She cleans Gojou up first. She tries, at least. Slick dissolves on her tongue and trickles down her throat, its taste overwhelming everything else, but Gojou doesn’t get any less wet with it. Yuuji sure doesn’t want her to.
She’s careful around the clit at first, not wanting Gojou to be sensitive in a bad way, but it calls to her, the furious blush of it under that pale, hairless mound, and when she gives it a bit of testing suction, Gojou—
Gojou cries out, her voice as high and wrecked as it was when she came.
The pleasure is also the same, just a little rawer around the edges.
Yuuji sucks harder, and there are more familiar reactions—nails scraping her scalp, heels digging into her back, thighs trying to crush her skull. The noise Gojou makes is a little softer this time, but it also sounds more breathless and no less desperate.
But she’s not pushing Yuuji away. She’s not even making her bleed. Her flesh is a hot pulse under Yuuji’s mouth.
Yuuji gives in with a groan, sucking hard on Gojou’s clit.
Gojou cries out, loud and shocked.
Yuuji doesn’t stop, hollowing her cheeks and breathing clumsily through her nose as she keeps sucking and suckling, and she’s not made to stop either, even though Gojou’s hand wanders roughly across her head and neck and shoulders, nails catching on hair and scraping down skin but never settling, not even to dig bloody gouges into her flesh. Her thighs keep trying and failing to snap shut around Yuuji, but the way they tremble and twitch against her hands says that maybe they don’t want it too badly, especially when her heels are so much more honest down below, burning new bruises into Yuuji’s back.
It’s sloppy suction, drool filling Yuuji’s mouth and dripping past her tiny mouthful, and it’s got nowhere to go except Gojou’s cunt, already so damn wet from her own slick, and that just makes Yuuji hungrier, her mouth watering and her gut clenching, and every time she lets go of Gojou’s clit just to latch back on at a newer, better angle, their flesh parts with a wet noise.
She’s swelled back up in Yuuji’s mouth too—or maybe it just feels like that, with all this rough suction sinking into her like a bruise.
Suddenly, Gojou’s legs grow violently tense all over, threatening to clamp around Yuuji’s head with her hands still stuck between them, and she’s still loud, never stopped being loud, but her voice suddenly spikes into a fever pitch, breaking open on Yuuji’s name—
Warm liquid splatters on her jaw, her throat. Gojou’s clit throbs under her tongue.
The rest of her muscles also twitch and flex, damn near convulsing.
Then her legs go limp. Her flesh is still swollen and hot in Yuuji’s mouth, but when Yuuji presses her tongue a little harder against it, Gojou strains away from it, her hips digging into the mattress like she can sink into it for safety.
Gojou’s fallen quiet, but there’s a quality to it that’s louder than any scream. She’s panting too, every breath a wet little thing that trembles in the air—and in Yuuji’s bones.
Yuuji pulls back a little, letting out a ragged breath of her own. She didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing. Something warm and wet trickles down her neck, tracing an electric path all the way down to where her top is wrapped around her chest. A few more follow, most melting into her own sweat before they reach that far down.
Yuuji sticks her tongue down her chin. Slick singes the underside of her tongue.
But that’s not what’s coating her a little further down, thrumming hotly on the underside of her jaw and even on her throat. She uncurls a hand from Gojou’s thigh and wipes at a patch of wetness on her neck. The fluid’s thinner but still so warm. When Yuuji sucks on her fingers, there’s not much of a taste—only a ripe aftertaste that’s already sunk into every inch of her mouth.
There’s a soft, strangled noise. Then a curse, quiet but forceful.
If Yuuji looks up, she’ll find Gojou watching her, and that’s what she plans to do, but when she draws herself up, her eyes fall to Gojou’s pussy, snagging on the slick folds. It’s so wet. And twitching, that little hole clenching around nothing over and over.
Gojou’s hips are flush with the edge of the bed, her cunt pretty much hanging out, and Yuuji’s sure she’ll find scattered droplets on the floor below or maybe streaking the grey bedsheet where it’s tucked in along the side.
“You came a lot, sensei,” Yuuji says breathlessly.
Gojou just curses again, but it catches in her throat, coming out as a low whine.
Yuuji finally looks at her, and it’s familiar by now, the sight of her teacher’s heaving tits and flushed face, but it still hits Yuuji like a freight train, made worse by the dark, dazed look in Gojou’s eyes. When she blinks, it seems to take her a good few seconds to focus on Yuuji, and when she does, she just curses again, both vicious and pathetic somehow.
Yuuji doesn’t look away as she slides her thumb along Gojou’s cunt, just feeling how wet it is. Her flesh is hot to the touch, yielding so sweetly at the slightest pressure. Yuuji strokes her puffy lips and dripping slit, and she doesn’t even really mean to do it, but the tip of her thumb finds Gojou’s hole and just…tucks itself inside.
It’s so easy that she wonders if Gojou can even feel it, except that doubt dies as she watches Gojou’s expression shatter into something that makes all of Yuuji howl.
She bends back down and shoves her tongue in beside her thumb. Gojou’s muscles flutter wetly around her. She says something too—something loud and sharp that doesn’t penetrate the clamor of Yuuji’s thundering heart. The hands fisting and twisting in her hair aren’t a surprise either, but when they pull, Yuuji pushes her tongue and her whole face more firmly into Gojou’s cunt, and this time, the thighs that close around her head and the heels that brand the sides of her spine all feel like they’re keeping her there.
She laps up the mess Gojou’s made for her, her tongue growing hot while her lips and jaw get soaked. The taste and the scent seep into her, ripening her flesh before burrowing in deeper, filling her bones with blistering heat.
This is why Yuuji doesn’t need to get drunk at the bar. Alcohol will never match the fever of the flesh.
“No,” Gojou says when Yuuji chases the swell of her flesh back to her clit. “No, no, Yuuji, don’t—”
Her hips jerk convulsively, and Yuuji presses them back down against the mattress with her mouth, sucking slow and hot on the throbbing clit, and Gojou makes her pay for it, clawing up her shoulders and squeezing her head, but her cunt’s so sweet under Yuuji’s mouth, twitching all over as it grows wetter and wetter, soaking Yuuji’s tongue and heating her jaw, and Gojou gets so loud and vicious whenever Yuuji circles back to her clit, but she also whines like a wounded thing when Yuuji pulls away to suck and lick her folds.
And Yuuji’s amused and surprised and just plain pleased about this being the kind of person her teacher is in bed, but all those emotions are distant, only their edges lapping at her past a gaping chasm of howling hunger.
She sucks on Gojou’s clit till she screams again, and there’s no warm splatter of fluids this time, but the mad writhing of Gojou’s hips like she’s trying to unlatch Yuuji from her cunt is a hundred times hotter.
Yuuji tries to soothe her, but when she licks at the clit, Gojou cries out like she’s been shot, and Yuuji’s attempts to clean up the safer, less sensitive parts also just earn her wounded whines and clawing fingers.
She does it anyway. Gojou’s not really trying to pull her away. And Yuuji can give her what she wants, even if she curses Yuuji for it.
It’s when Yuuji sucks the hot, swollen clit back into her mouth that Gojou’s shaky gasps shudder into something louder and wetter—
“Please.”
Yuuji freezes, her mouth growing slack around Gojou’s flesh. Her tongue, hot and a little numb, is still flush with the clit.
“Please,” Gojou says again, her voice a strained whisper, its edges slurring. “No more—I can’t anymore, Yuuji—”
Yuuji squeezes her thighs together, slamming a hand against the bed to keep it from unbalancing her. The motion still pushes her face more into Gojou’s cunt, and Gojou lets out a soft, shuddering sob.
Fire erupts between Yuuji’s legs, all her pent-up need roaring to life.
She peels away from Gojou’s cunt, with its shapes and secrets already stamped on her face, and there’s naked relief in the noise Gojou makes when Yuuji ducks out from underneath her legs. She closes her eyes too, all of her limbs growing limp—arms thudding against the mattress, legs dangling past the edge of the bed. Yuuji watches her breathlessly as she strips off her jeans, cussing out the tight fit in her head. She can’t bring herself to actually speak. The silence feels sacred.
Gojou, splayed on the bed with her eyes closed and her breasts bare, is sacred.
She doesn’t open her eyes even when Yuuji clambers onto the bed. But her mouth is open, pink lips parted around a pinker tongue. It’s perfect.
Yuuji positions herself above Gojou’s face, careful not to dig her knees into any stray strand of hair.
Then she sits down.
Gojou’s eyes fly open, and a shocked noise splatters against Yuuji’s cunt.
“Fuck,” Yuuji gasps, bearing down against that noise.
Gojou turns her face away.
“Sensei!” Yuuji laughs, shocked and a little scandalized. “That’s so mean.”
“I—” Gojou rasps. Her hands come to rest on Yuuji’s hips, weirdly hesitant. “Yuuji, I—”
Yuuji reaches down, sliding her hand between the mattress and Gojou’s cheek. For a few precious seconds, she just holds it, marveling at the smooth softness of Gojou’s skin. Gojou moves a little too, tucking her face into Yuuji’s hand like a big, lazy cat.
And Yuuji really wouldn’t mind just petting her forever, but her clit’s going to burst if she keeps this up.
Gojou whines when Yuuji tugs her face back into place, but the next moment, her mouth is open and hot and wet, and it’s a word that she buries in Yuuji’s cunt, her name or maybe something less nice, but it’s the heated air kissing her folds that lances through her cunt and up into her gut, and Yuuji grinds down for real, dragging her cunt against Gojou’s lips.
They open and close against the swollen flesh there, the tongue coming out to play.
And it’s nice. It really feels good. Gojou’s mouth is hot and sweet both.
It’s also…kinda useless.
Clumsy, really. Her lips mostly just smear against Yuuji’s folds, and her tongue barely catches the clit. The sounds are the best, those tight little whines that sound almost hurt, as if Gojou’s not lapping at Yuuji’s dripping cunt like she’s trying to drink her there, but a few cute sounds aren’t going to make Yuuji come.
Right, Yuuji remembers, helplessly endeared despite the building need between her legs, she’s drunk.
That has to be it. She’s sure Gojou knows how to use her mouth better than this. A woman who acts the way she does, a woman who looks at Yuuji the way she does—no way she doesn’t know how to please.
But it’s alright if she can’t, right now. Yuuji’s always been happy to do the work.
She brushes a few pale strands off Gojou’s forehead, sinking her fingers into the thick mass of her hair. The artful mess has turned into a real one, that updo half unraveled and the results splattered all over Gojou’s face and the mattress. Gojou makes another very cute noise when Yuuji grips tighter, but the groan that bursts open against Yuuji’s cunt when she tugs Gojou’s head up is hotter and rawer.
Dark, drunken eyes blink up at her. Under them, Gojou’s mouth is a mess, smeared with both slick and lipstick. The gleaming streaks of red should be dirty, but something about it all makes Gojou look younger and more innocent than she really is.
“It’s okay, sensei,” Yuuji tells her, stroking Gojou’s face with her other hand. “I’ve got it. You can just lie there, okay?”
Gojou blinks wetly up at her. “Yuuji?”
“That’s me,” Yuuji says cheerfully and puts her cunt back on Gojou’s face.
And her mouth is still useless, but Yuuji helps herself this time, pressing two practiced fingers to her aching clit, and the pressure is heavenly, especially after those teasing flicks of Gojou’s tongue. She wasn’t even trying to tease, Yuuji’s sure. But she’d probably be good at it when she does—frustrating and thrilling all at once, the kind designed to make Yuuji snap, violently.
She pictures it, and it’s so easy, between the pressure of her fingers and the fumbling tongue further down, and Gojou makes choking noises sometimes when Yuuji shoves her hips down too firmly or yanks on her hair too roughly, but her mouth and tongue stay busy, kissing and lapping and sometimes just gasping muffled nonsense into Yuuji’s cunt, and Yuuji rubs herself furiously to every touch, every sound, the slick slide of her fingers winding her up tighter and tighter and tighter.
“Gojou-sensei,” she gasps, burning from her cheeks to her thighs, the core of it lashing between her legs, “gonna come.”
Gojou doesn’t react, probably didn’t even hear Yuuji, but it doesn’t matter. Yuuji presses down just right and shoves herself over the edge, riding that pretty, useless, lipstick-stained mouth through every twitch and pulse of her orgasm.
She stays there through the aftershocks, her fingers pressed viciously to her clit. Gojou keeps mouthing at her. It’s very sweet. Now and then, Yuuji hears her swallow, and her insides clench warmly.
Then the exhaustion starts to creep in, threading through the afterglow in a way that isn’t exactly unpleasant. Yuuji wouldn’t mind luxuriating in that. But she’d like to do it lying down.
Gojou doesn’t put up a fight, her hands and her mouth both letting Yuuji go easily. But she does make this noise—something quiet, almost lost.
“Just lying down, sensei,” Yuuji assures her, stretching herself out beside Gojou. Well, mostly beside Gojou, what with how half of Gojou is still dangling off the bed. Guess that’s Yuuji’s fault, technically.
But Gojou doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to lie down properly, and Yuuji’s too boneless right now to haul her up. She’ll do it in a bit. For now, she makes herself comfortable—this is probably the comfiest mattress she’s ever been on. She curls her hand around Gojou’s arm, tucking her fingers into the space between her bicep and her chest.
The view’s nice from here. Gojou’s tits would be pretty from any angle.
Yuuji moves her hand, gently squeezing a full breast. Gojou makes another soft noise, like she’s chiding Yuuji but also kinda happy about it. Yuuji leaves her hand there and starts rolling her neck this way and that. A few knots of tension make themselves known.
Worth it.
She’s trying to stretch out a particularly irritating crick when she sees it—a single picture frame on the nightstand beside Gojou’s bed.
It shows two girls, arm in arm. They’re wearing high school uniforms.
One’s clearly Gojou. Even as a teenager, there’s no mistaking that face. Or the hair. Or the eyes. Or anything about her. Her hair is a lot shorter though, barely reaching her shoulders. Its ends are spikier, and the fringe scattered about her forehead makes her look as wild as she’s pretty. She’s smirking, and a long, lacquered nail is pushing up a pair of round sunglasses to show off one burning blue eye.
It takes Yuuji a long moment to shake off the unexpected shock of seeing her teenaged teacher and look at the other girl.
She’s also pretty, just in a more traditional way than Gojou is. Dark hair, dark eyes, a demure smile. Both of her ears are pierced. And she’s looking at Gojou rather than at the camera.
“Who’s that?” Yuuji finds herself asking, the words slipping past a strangely urgent sense that she shouldn’t. “Your…sister?”
Gojou huffs, a quiet little noise. Her skin is very warm under Yuuji’s hand. Their bodies are both spent and limp.
Gojou says, “My wife.”