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It was a wild, unhealthy obsession.
It was completely unethical, and more than that, the situation was so fucked up that she was sure the boy's guardian, the so-called Tiger of Fuyuki, would tear her limb from limb if she found out. Teacher-student relations were not just frowned upon in this country, they were completely forbidden, and yet here she was going at it like a slut addicted to the only thing that got her going.
So why had she done it, and why would she keep doing it? Because slutty-sounding or not, it was just so damned good.
Despite the inherent risk involved, their rendezvous was always at his house, upon his request. She'd know he was up for it, and vice versa, by a simple exchange of words at the end of the school day, when the most innocuous of conversations became laced with subtle, sexual nuance, when their eyes became deep, lustrous pools of desire that could just melt into the other, when even a small tap on the shoulder held all the connotations of a quick romp under the sheets.
And in the end, romping was the least of what they did, once she came to the Emiya household. Most of the time he would already be there at the threshold of the house, his dick prepped for her like a gun unholstered, and she would eagerly take its warmth into her hands as she'd meet his lips with hers. Or he would push her down by the shoulder, where she took the hint and swallowed his hot meat, still rank with a day's worth of sweat and work, inside her mouth, and she would lavish all sorts of love on it, worshiping his tool, relishing the taste and the smell of his manly essence. And when he'd come, she'd savor that most of all, sucking hard like she were a succubus ready to take his soul, and sometimes it even felt that way as she watched him squirm and grasp, as the vacuuming motions of her mouth and tongue slurped from his lewd fount, his life seed filling her throat until it was fully soaked in his cum.
Other times she would enter the house, and find him waiting somewhere else. The kitchen, for instance, frequently became a scene of copulation if he was ever there, as there was curiously never any food to be prepared when he was there; and it only sufficed, after the initial foreplay, to bend her over the counter or on a chair, or to haul her up and lay her thick, sexy body over the counter; whereupon he'd start breeding her with little disregard for propriety. And she would take it all, squealing like a pig about to be slaughtered, rutted thoroughly and hotly, her juices staining the pristine wooden floor. Then sometimes he'd take her over to the kotatsu, where he'd press her to the table's surface and pin her under his weight, slamming his hips into hers with such frenzied speed that it almost always left an outline of sweat on the table for them to clean.
As an aside, one would have assumed they'd play all sorts of food-related kinks, being in the kitchen and all, but he never did that. At least, he'd always carry her over to the kotatsu, or to up to any of the bedrooms, if he ever decided on a little bit of food play. He'd strip her bare, lay her out-without either of them having taken a bath yet, mind-and then prep her body like a table with lightning speed, putting the dishes, the side-dishes, the dips, the seasonings, etc. He'd then proceed to eat off her and feed her hand to mouth, all the while talking of the day like they were just eating normally. When the food was done, they'd proceed to other things right there. But he never did things like cum on the servings, or dip the food in her juices. He was very respectful of food, and she liked that part of him.
That was not to say that he wouldn't get creative at times, when he wasn't just ruthlessly holding her down, asserting his dominance with loud, wet, pistoning. It seemed he had a turning to exhibitionism, given the many ways he'd insert various sexual games into his normal interactions with her whenever a third party was present. Most of the times it involved the aforementioned Tiger of Fuyuki, who looked askance at their seeming closeness when she seemed to be visiting him almost every day (without having to mention Taiga's own routine). When her fellow teacher was off to the side, watching television while munching on a snack or droning on about some issue or other, he made sure to keep her "occupied". Whether it was a hand down the back of her pants, his fingers endlessly teasing her two holes beneath her panties, or sticking her under the kotatsu from where he encouraged her to worship his cock silently without Taiga noticing, sometimes with her fellow teacher even assuming that she wasn't even there. The very worst of it was when she had wanted to stay the night for some reason or other. Then, when she had gone in to take a bath, he had dragged her over right outside the bathroom door, and fucked her furiously while his guardian, and her fellow teacher, bathed. She was sure he had been splendidly aroused, as his thrusts were frantic, though still masterful, soft, but making just enough noise that Taiga would definitely tell something was up if she'd ever stop singing to herself; his fingers were stuck inside her mouth, massaging her tongue as if he wanted to truly silence her, reduce her breathy moans to low, gasping noises as he claimed her wet, dripping snatch in so many ways that sent her soul flying. At any moment, the door could open, exposing their debauchery to the world; the thrill of that possibility sent waves of perversion through her mind as she prepared to bare it all: her dirty, desperate, slutty self that only begged to be taken by his wonderful cock.
Fortunately, the tiger enjoyed its bath too much, having slept at the tub, and thus accruing quite a cold the next day that had her bedridden, to which he would scold his guardian; though she didn't know if he was secretly glad for Taiga's lapse or had gotten even more aroused that they definitely would have been caught otherwise. The thought horrified her, and, to her mortification, aroused her.
In speaking of near-exposures and the thrill of being caught, her tastes seemed tame by comparison. She liked just a bit of bondage, not the more hardcore ones she read about, but cuffs, ropes, and other assorted bindings were things she introduced into their couplings. Thankfully he took the hint about her own perversions, even going so far as to encourage it, ultimately leading to the choker he bought her as a gift. It looked like a collar one placed on a pet, and would have been humiliating to wear. But for her, even laying her eyes on it had made her wet, and actually putting it on, and fitting the leather around her skin gave her a mini-orgasm that he quickly turned into a full-blown one in moments. She wore it proudly, and to the rest of the world it was her independent spirit that turned away all questions, turning assumptions into rumors for which she cared nothing; even if the real implication was her binding to a soul whose cock she worshiped.
Their tastes culminated one day, this very moment, into a celebration he'd proposed a few weeks back, and to which he'd agreed only after making him promise that he would never get Taiga or anyone else involved.
And so one day she called in sick, while she lay naked and greased with a full nights' worth of sex on the futon. She almost made him late for school by taking too long at the bath. Then she tidied up for much of the morning, after which she prepped herself. She inserted various tools and toys into her lower orifices, handcuffed her wrists and ankles, then inserted herself into a complex network of ropes he'd prepared beforehand; which, after pulling on a convenient lever, contrived to wrap around her body, and suspend her from the ground, such that she looked like a trussed up piece of meat at a market stall, her wrists and ankles tied together at her back, her boobs sagging through the restraining rope like a pair of cow's udders, her hands blissfully unable to access the settings on the toys inside her, which was rigged to increase in vibration settings after a few minutes.
As such, for the rest of the afternoon, she hung there, her pussy speared through with a vibrating tool that kept her on the edge of agony as she came huge, smelly dollops onto the floor, which joined with the pools of sweat and drool that dripped freely from her mouth. The temperature inside the room was warm, so her skin had quickly taken on a sweaty sheen, the sight of which she knew made him hard. Adding to that the helplessness of her current position, and she was sure there'd be loud, explosive sex when he came home from school.
But that day came a surprise; a surprise she had not anticipated at all, but which, upon reflection, she should have expected when it came to him.
He'd brought Taiga.
Her heart literally froze when she heard the telltale creak and rumble of the house's walls when the loudmouthed tiger made its presence known. And there was his voice right beside it, unmistakable. It was impossible that he'd forgotten, which left-
She put it together a mere second after she heard Taiga. This was it. This was the play. She could well imagine the hard-on he concealed skillfully as he talked with his guardian over whatever the fuck it was that made the teacher go home early, but she was sure he was behind it. He knew where she was, and it only sufficed to bring Taiga in close for her to hear the tell-tale buzzing of the toys jammed up her holes. And turn the knob and presto she'd see the truth at last.
Her whole body trembled, a portion of it from actual fright. She'd never actually considered the ramifications, but at best she could protect him by making herself out to be the harlot crazed out of her mind, whose mind had finally snapped and had led her to tie herself up like this. But she knew he wouldn't allow her to do that. That wasn't his way.
"I don't see her in the bed, is she out?" came Taiga's voice, sounding perilously close to the door.
A murmur of sound. A rumbling, of footsteps running in the corridor outside.
"Oh dear, she sounded really sick," came the bastard's voice, and sounding like it was supremely concerned. "Let's check all the rooms. There's trouble if she collapsed somewhere..." Taiga made a murmur of assent.
Doors being opened, slid open, turned open. And right on fucking time, the dildos pushed a bunch of nerves to climax for the umpteenth time, and she gritted her teeth, clenched her fists against the orgasm she sensed mounting through her body. She'd opted not to wear the ball gag, which meant that this orgasm would be as loud and obnoxious as ever.
"Not here, not here, not here..."
She whimpered, her throat choking on the lascivious sighs demanding to escape her perverted throat; her mind focusing on little else but the noises outside grew ever louder as the toys edged her closer and closer to her explosive release.
"Ah! What about this room?" came Taiga's voice, and to her distress it seemed to come from right outside this very room.
That pushed her right over the edge. Biting her lips, a wordless, keening scream came out of her mouth, like steam wheezing from a boiling kettle. Her fluids leaked from her body, streaming down and spattering over the floor in great, steamy rivulets. Her mouth opened and closed, gasping like a drowning fish, as her lust-glazed eyes watched the doorknob turn, as light spilled through the opening, revealing her hanging, shameful self, locked in relentless orgasm, to the one who waited beyond the threshold...
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