Denji took two steps back after knocking to be safe. Mari opened the door slowly, greeting him with a big smile. His heart stopped beating at the sight of her in the frilly pink apron. The apron appeared to be all she was wearing.

"You ready to get started?" she asked.

Was he ever ready to get started but not on homework.

Denji nodded mutely with his mouth hanging open. When she turned her back to him for him to follow her inside, it was then he realized she was wearing a lavender tank top and black short shorts under the apron. He could not help but feel the weight of disappointment nearly crushing him. Then he recalled the lavender silk bra and panties that were hanging in the bathroom last night and wondered if she had those on.

"Dinner will be ready in about an hour. I just put it in the oven," she said, taking off her apron to toss it onto the counter as she passed the kitchen.

"Awww," he whined, pouting shamelessly. "But I'm so hungry."

"Yes, I figured you would be so I put a snack on the table for you," she informed him, pointing to the plate of chocolate chip cookies and glass of milk sitting on the low table.

"What am I? Five?" he muttered irritably, dropping his book bag on the floor between the couch and table.

Mari picked up the plate of cookies .

"Fine then," she sniffed dramatically. "If you don't want them, I'll take them away."

"Hold on now," Denji said, snatching the plate away from her. "I never said I didn't want them."

"Hmph," she scoffed but a grin gradually pulled up the corners of her mouth.

After he took a seat, she plopped down on the second cushion beside him. He had already eaten one cookie, demolishing it in two bites and was reaching for another when she extended her hand to take one. Their fingers bumped as they grabbed for the same cookie. He blushed. She giggled. He snatched the cookie from under her fingertips to cram it into his mouth so she daintily picked up another.

"You like them?" she asked, toying with the one in her hand.

"Uh huh. They're delicious," he mumbled, blowing out crumbs. Taking another before he finished the present one, the pile of a dozen cookies was dwindling fast.

"I made them myself," she said, taking some pride in that fact.

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

Holy crap! She is an amazing cook!, he thought, happily munching on his fourth cookie.

"Slow down. Enjoy them. They're not going anywhere." She placed her hand on his forearm, squeezing the muscle through his uniform jacket. "No one will take them away from you. They're all yours. I made them just for you."

Mari held the cookie she had in her hand to his lips. She smiled when he opened his mouth and took a bite. He never tried to take the cookie from her hand but waited for her to feed it to him, taking one small bite at a time.

When it was gone, she used her thumb to wipe away a smear of melted chocolate chip at the corner of his mouth. Before she could bring her thumb to her mouth to lick it off, Denji grabbed her hand pulling it to his. His eyes remained on hers when he inserted her thumb into his mouth, pressing it to his tongue and sucking lightly.

"Oh," she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed briefly. They flew open wide when his teeth cautiously and lightly bit down on her knuckle. "D-Denji, uh, uhm...we, we should get started."

Since he was still sucking her thumb when he pulled it out of his mouth, breaking the suction made a popping sound.

"I thought we already were," he rejoined, continuing to hold her hand.

He couldn't be more right, her horny inner voice spoke up. But I doubt human anatomy is on the list of subjects to study.

"W-with your school work, silly," she said, pointing at his discarded and forgotten book bag.

"Oh, yeah." He opened it and unloaded all of his books, notebooks, pens, pencils, pencil sharpener, and white block eraser onto the table.

"At least you're prepared," she murmured, picking up one of the books and opening it. Math. Algebra. Yuck. This looks like a good place to start. "What's your assignment?"

"Order of operations," he announced, leaning over to flip the pages. "I have no idea what they're talking about."

"The four basic mathematical operations are addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. You understand that part right?" she asked, glancing over at him.

The blank look in his eyes coupled with his mouth hanging open only convinced her of his capability to catch flies not do basic math and certainly not the more complex calculations required by the exercises on the page in front of her.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, picking up a pencil and grabbing his notebook to open it to a blank page. "We might have a long night ahead of us."

Denji could find nothing wrong with spending a lot of time with her even it was spent studying math.

"Let's begin with the basics. Hmm, how to explain," she muttered, glancing at the plate of cookies. "Okay. If I give you one cookie..." She slid a cookie over to him. "Then give you two more. How many do you have?"

"Three. That's easy," he said, picking up one to start eating it.

"You took one away and you have...?"

"Two left. Duh...they're right there. I thought you were smart."

She jabbed him in the ribs with her forefinger. He yelped and winced because it tickled.

"That's subtraction, smart ass."

"Now that I think about it, I know how to do this." He was quite familiar with these concepts. He had been able to calculate his debt in his head after all; subtracting payments made with organs he sold, multiplying then adding interest, and dividing by the number of years it would take for him to pay it off.

"Let's try a few exercises in the book just to be sure you understand."

Mari leaned against him to begin flipping through the math book in front of him. His arm slid between her breasts as she searched for some basic problems for him to work on. He turned his head to look at her, his nose grazing her cheek she was so close.

Since she was distracted, Denji tilted his head so he could brush his lips across her cheek. When she did not seem to notice, he tentatively raised his hand, skimming his fingertips along the outer curve of her breast. When she inhaled, her breast pushed against his fingers as if pleading for him to touch it more. His hand flexed, cupping her breast.

"Denji," she said calmly, drawing his eyes to her face. "What are you doing?"

Mari did not look angry or surprised. With a gentle smile on her lips, she actually appeared a little amused.

"Well, I...uh, well..." He lifted his hand away from her breast, running his fingers through his hair. "It was right there and I actually didn't mean to touch it. At first. But then I...ugh, dammit," he groaned, hanging his head.

"Let me guess, temptation got the best of you and you gave in?" she speculated, backing up a little to remove his arm from where it was nestled between her cleavage. Before he could answer, she went on. "That's okay. I think we're both facing a lot of temptation at the moment. But before we give in..." She picked up a pencil and extended it to him. "There is something else you need to do right now."

"Yeah," he agreed, taking the pencil from her hand.

When the timer went off for the oven, Denji had just successfully completed his first set of math problems she had made for him proving he could indeed add, subtract, divide, and multiply quite well. Apparently he just needed a bit of perspective to realize he knew how to all along.

"We can get to work on the actual assignment after dinner," she declared, jumping up from the floor to rush into the kitchen. "Do you have any upcoming tests or anything super important in your other subjects?"

"An English test on Friday, but we can study for that tomorrow night," he said, studying her as she pulled on a set of oven mitts designed to look like lobster claws.

Denji could not help but smile. She made him smile a lot. To be a grown woman, she possessed some of the most bizarre and comical childlike things. Tonight she wasn't wearing a headband at all. No bow or cat ears. He liked the cat ears.

Mari placed the rectangular dish on the counter while he took a seat on the other side across from her. It was brown across the top and something red bubbled around the edges.

"What is that?" he asked, inhaling deeply which made him drool. He didn't know what she had cooked but it smelled delicious.

"Lasagna," she answered, stabbing it with a knife to begin cut it into squares.

"I've never had a...a la-la-las-"

"Lu-zahn-ya," she enunciated slowly and clearly for him to follow.

"What is a lasagna?"

She scooped out a large square with a flat turner to place it on one of the waiting plates so he could see the layers.

"It's meat, sauce, cheese, and pasta layered together. See," she pointed at the defined layers. She set the plate in front of him. "Don't worry you'll like it."

"Oh, I was never worried about that." He poked his fork into the middle of the block of food. "I'm not picky anyway, and you're a really good cook. I've just never had anything like this."

He lifted the entire portion skewered on the fork like it was a meat and pasta lollipop. He took a big bite, meat chunks falling off onto his plate and sauce dribbling down his chin.

"That's not how you eat it," she giggled. She served up her own portion, cutting off a bite sized piece with her fork then poking the tines into it. "You cut it like this."

He shrugged, dropping the entire piece back onto the plate with the fork still sticking out of it. Using his fingers, he pushed the lasagna off of the tines of the fork for it to hit the plate with a wet squelch.

"You're so unusual," she laughed lightly, pouring them both glasses of iced tea.

"Good unusual or bad unusual? There is a difference you know," he said, cutting through the layers with his fork before piercing it.

"Good, without a doubt," she replied, wiping sauce from his chin with her napkin. "Definitely good."

"If I make a good grade on my English test can I touch your tits?" he bluntly inquired.

Mari sucked in a startled breath, choking on her tea. At least she did not have a mouthful of lasagna. He stared at her with emotionless eyes waiting for an answer to his completely serious question while she coughed and wheezed as if she might hack up a lung. He could be a little too forthright for her own good.

"Well, can I?" he asked when she dared to take another sip of her tea to soothe her raw throat.

"Denji," she sighed, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. They slipped through the strands of light gold easily. He had combed his hair today. "You can't go through life acting like a trained monkey, performing simply for treats."

"What are you talking about?" He pulled her hand away from his head. "Stop doing that. I'm not a little kid. Or a trained monkey."

"Have you ever done anything just because it's the right thing to do not because you had some incentive or ulterior motive?"

Denji's head cocked to the side in the classic confused puppy way.

"Oh, Denji," she sighed, frowning as if he had let her down in some way.

"You're not my mother. I never had a mother to take care of me, and I don't need one now," he growled. He was embarrassed and angry with himself because obviously he had made her sad for some reason - but he did not understand what he had done wrong.

"I know that. And I don't want to be your mother. Honestly, I want to be something else," she confessed, placing her hand over her heart.

"I really don't understand anything you're saying to me. I'm so confused," he said, pushing away his plate.

Somehow she had managed to make him lose his appetite. He couldn't make sense of anything she had said to him in the past ten minutes. Maybe his brain was all scrambled from that stupid math.

"I'm not quite sure what I'm trying to say either," she admitted, growing frustrated with herself.

Mari reached across the counter to touch his hand laying beside his plate. When her fingers brushed across the back, his fingers flexed then bent to form a fist. He dropped his chin toward his chest, avoiding looking into her searching, pleading eyes.

"Hey, look at me," she requested, tapping the back of his hand. "Look at me, Denji."

When he lifted his chin, there was no mistaking the anger in his eyes. She recognized that quiet fury ignited by the scab being ripped of an old emotional wound. Many times her eyes had held the same look as she stared at them in the mirror asking herself how she could be such a perpetual screw up.

Mari pressed her fingertips under his chin to hold it up in case he decided he wanted to dodge eye contact again.

"I never want to use you or manipulate you or lie to you. Never ever," she swore to him. "I won't treat you like some trained dog to go fetch when I give you the order. I won't promise you empty little gestures to motivate you to do something you don't want to do. I want you to want something better for yourself."

Denji's eyes shifted away from hers. Makima had told in no uncertain terms he was her dog, and she planned to use him like one. She added the hints and allegations of sex to make him enjoy being leashed, always fetching whatever devil she wanted.

"I don't want to be your mother," Mari repeated, leaning across the counter. Her lips hovered so close to his he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. "I'm going to give you a test."

"A test? Already? But you just started tutoring me," he said innocently.

"Not that kind of test, silly," she chuckled lightly. "Kiss me. That should tell you what you want to know."

"Kiss you again?" he asked. "Can I have practice kiss first? I didn't realize there would be a test."

"Ah, the man has jokes. Another thing I like about you - your sense of humor," she giggled. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Mari raised up on her toes, pushing herself forward with her palms flat on the countertop for balance in order to bridge the millimeters between them. She pressed her lips squarely to his which remained yielding and complaint.

Tilting her head, moving her mouth over his, she puckered to entice him to return the action. When he pursed his lips, he gave a singular kiss to her top lip. Her front teeth nipped his lower lip which had wedged between hers.

"Mmph," Denji groaned, copying her movement but being extra careful not bite her lip with his sharp teeth.

Growing in confidence, he teased her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. To his great delight, her lips created an entrance for him. Rather than thrusting his tongue into her mouth and down her throat like he wanted to, he reigned himself in practicing uncharacteristic restraint as he ran the tip along the top edge of her bottom front teeth.

Her mouth opened wider, inviting him in a little further. One of his large hands pressed along her jaw. The gentle pressure of his fingertips laying against her cheek encouraged her to angle her head a little more to offset their lips as if he was giving her life giving breaths rather a kiss. Maybe he was giving her life again, resuscitating something in her she thought had died a long time ago.

Denji explored her mouth with his tongue. The bumpiness of her tongue. The ridged surfaces of her teeth. The flavors from the red sauce in the lasagna revisited his taste buds in a weird but not entirely unpleasant way.

There were other parts of her body he would love to discover with his tongue. Her neck. The curve of her ear. That little hollow in her throat. The space between her generous breasts where his arm had been earlier. Hell, he spent most of his day fantasizing about getting his hands on her gorgeous triple Ds rather than paying attention in class.

Mari reluctantly sank back onto her heels, breaking the kiss.

"Did I pass?" Denji asked, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath.

"Oh, yeah, with flying colors," she puffed. "Now, you should eat so we can get back to work on that math."

Denji not only finished the serving on his plate but also ate every last morsel of lasagna in the 9x13 dish. She couldn't imagine where he was packing all that food in his slim body. But he did have an awful lot of muscle packed onto him. Smooth and strong rather than bulky, built like a gymnast.

"You must have a hollow leg," she tease him, taking the empty pan to the sink.

"No. I don't. If my leg gets cut off in a fight, it just grows right back," he explained after taking her joke literally. "I can grow any body part back."

"Really?" she gasped, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah. After Pochita saved me, I even grew back the right eye I had sold."

"Wait...you sold your right eye?"

"Well, I had to pay off my Dad's debt to the Yakuza somehow. And a guy's got to eat."

Mari's mouth dropped open in shock. Before she could fully process that startling information, he stood up from the bar stool, grabbing his crotch.

"I sold one of my balls too, and it grew back. I'm sure I have two kidneys again. I've had devils rip out all kinds of organs actually so yeah, everything grows back," he murmured thoughtfully, scratching his chin.

Mari toddled around the counter on unsteady legs. He had been so desperate for money to pay a debt that was not even his, he had been forced to sell body parts. Hearing this broke her heart. She had no idea exactly the hell he had been through. Sliding her arms around his waist, she hugged him tightly.

"I'm so sorry all of that happened to you," she sniffled, tears welling up against her lower eyelid.

"Mari, why are you always apologizing?" He pulled her head back to look at her face. "Especially for things that aren't your fault. I don't understand."

"I don't, I don't know."

A few tears broke free from the pools in her eyes. Denji watched the droplets zigzag down her cheeks to drip from her chin onto her chest. He pressed the tips of his fingers to the spots of wetness glistening against her skin just below her collarbone. The tears had grown cold, but her skin was warm.

A bizarre curiosity overcame Denji while watching fresh tears flow down the tracks already marking her face. When he cried, his tears were always so salty and bitter. It was as if the acidic flavor of his misery had been distilled in them. Did everyone's tears taste that way?

Dipping his head toward her face, he stuck out his long tongue. He heard her inhale sharply, but she did not pull away when his tongue pressed to her chin to catch a tear before it fell. He felt her fingers gripping his white school shirt at his lower back when he ran his tongue up her cheek. Her tears were only a little salty. His tasted like the ocean.

"I never know what you're going to do next. You're so strange, Denji," Mari remarked, resting her forehead on his chin. "But I like you."

"I like you too, Mari." His arms slid around her shoulders to embrace her. It seemed like the natural thing to do.

His hands glided down her shoulders. He could feel the straps of her bra through the thin fabric of her cotton tank top. His fingers drifted along the wide strap spanning the width of her back. Toying with the metal hooks through the material, he wondered how difficult it would be to undo them.

"Uhm, we really should be getting back to your tutoring session," she reminded him.

"Yeah, okay." He reluctantly withdrew his arms from around her. Taking a seat on the cushion, he waited for her to join him.

Mari explained each step slowly in the simplest terms possible. She patiently repeated each part as many times as she needed to for him to understand. With her help, he actually began to comprehend.

"Try this one by yourself," she said, pointing to the next set of numbers. "If you need help just ask. Okay?"

"Okay." He began writing the numbers and symbols on his notebook paper.

Mari studied his face as he worked. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head from the effort. He poked his tongue out slightly, biting down on it lightly as he concentrated. The only sound to be heard was the scratching of his pencil on the paper.

"Do you need help?" she asked in an exaggerated whisper.

"No," he replied curtly without looking up from the page.

"If don't understand - "

"I got it," he cut her off. Then his eyes widened as he stared at the page. "I got it!"

Mari snatched the paper out of his hand to check the answer. It was indeed correct.

"Oh, my God! You got it!" she exclaimed excitedly, shaking the notebook until the pages flapped as if it might fly away.

Denji grabbed the notebook, tossing it aside. He seized her, wrapping his arms around her body, trapping her arms by her sides for a rib crushing bear hug. When he felt her hand slapping his side and hearing her wheezing inhales, he instantly relinquished his grip on her.

"Congratulations! You did it, and you did it all by yourself. I knew you could," Mari said, pressing her palm to his cheek while he grinned broadly at her. "I'm so proud of you."

His smile faltered then disappeared entirely. He suddenly looked so sad. She would swear tears were forming in his eyes.

"What...what is it? Did I say something wrong?" she asked, holding his face between both of her hands. She could feel the skin of his cheeks heating under her palms.

"No one has ever told me they're proud of me. Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do."

"Can I touch your boobs?"

"You goofball," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "You are truly relentless."

Covering his face with her palm, effectively facepalming him, she gave him a playful push. He swayed back, bobbing back up to lean in close to her; so close he almost headbutted her.

"I'm serious. Can I?"

Mari huffed, keeping a steady pensive gaze on him the same way she had when he asked to taste the wine. Denji's hands formed fists as he stared back her, keeping his eyes on hers rather on her breasts. At least she was considering his request.

"Sure you won't regret this like you did the wine tasting?" she asked, folding her arms under her breasts which did catch his attention and pull his eyes downward.

"Oh, I am sure."

"Okay then," she sighed, dropping her arms down. "You did work hard tonight. I guess there's nothing wrong with a reward."

Denji raised his hands, palms up, reaching for her with grasping fingers.

"Nah uh," she snapped, gently slapping his hands away.

"What? But you said - "

"Not like that. God, they're not squishy toys."

Oh, yes they are, he thought but did not say the words out loud.

"How many times have you felt a woman up?" Mari asked.

"Really? We're doing this now?" he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"I'm just curious. How many times?" she persisted stubbornly.

"Power allowed me to do it three times." He stared down at his palm. "Makima took my hand and placed it on her tit. I didn't even grab it myself. I just squeezed after she placed it there."

"That's it?"

"That's it," he confirmed, sighing dejectedly. "Why? What difference does it make?"

Mari shrugged, puckering her lips as if she had been sucking on lemons.

"I just want it to be something meaningful for you," she explained.

"What makes you think it wouldn't mean anything to me? You mean something to me," he said earnestly.

Mari bit the inside of her cheek to ward off the tears when they burned the backs of her eyeballs. She did not want to cry in front of him again tonight. Taking hold of the hem of her shirt, she snatched it over her head.

"I knew it!" he shouted upon seeing the lavender bra.

"What?"

"Nothing. What are you doing?" he asked when she reached behind her back.

"Well, you want to touch them don't you?"

"B-b-b-but," he stuttered. "They only let me touch their tits over their shirts and bras. Power's even had extra padding. I didn't get to actually touch her breast at all until one of the pads fell out."

"Well, I'm not them. Just think of this as part of your education," she stated matter of factly.

Placing one arm across her breasts to hold up the bra and avoid revealing them yet, she used the other hand to pull the straps down her arms. Mari would be hesitant to admit she was enjoying watching his eyes grow bigger and bigger with anticipation.

She ceased all movement, waiting for his eyes to flicker back up to hers. When they did, she pulled her arm and the bra away to bare her breasts to him. His eyelids separated so far she feared his eyeballs might roll right out of his head.

For what felt like several long minutes, Denji stared at her chest without attempting to touch her. Her breasts were huge and pendulous, teardrop shaped. The brownish pink areola covered a large area but the nipples had shrunk and tightened into wrinkled little nubs.

"Denji."

When he did not respond to his name being called, Mari touched his upper arm, making him flinch. His glassy eyes met hers. The pupils were so dilated there was barely any brown iris visible. She slid her fingers down his arm, feeling the hard muscles flexing through his sleeve. The sinewy muscles of his forearm tensed, goosebumps rising along the path of her fingernails scraping across his skin.

She grasped his hand in preparation to lift it to her breast. But he said Makima did that. She lifted her hand away from his. He should touch her as he wished.

Denji could not believe what he was seeing. There they were in all of their glory. Naked and free. Her humungous honkers.

He felt as if his lungs had been ripped out of his chest. He could not breathe despite the fact his heart was clearly beating, slamming into his ribcage as if trying to break free. His hand shook as he lifted it. The fingers that reached for her trembled.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, he asked himself, gritting his teeth. However, he knew exactly what was wrong with him. This was the first time he would ever get to touch a breast without clothes in the way and without conditions. She was willingly offering her body to him to fondle as he pleased.

His fingers grazed her nipple when she inhaled deeply. His breath caught in his throat. Using both hands, he cupped her breasts holding them in his palms. He lifted and squeezed to feel their weight and texture. They were heavy, firm but pliable at the same time as he needed them with his strong fingers. He rolled the flesh through his fingers, noting the lighter creamy color of her breasts in comparison to the tanned skin of the rest of her chest.

When a strangled whimper escaped her, he froze, glimpsing at her face. Her eyes were closed. A light pink blush colored the tops of her cheeks. Her breathing was shallow and rapid through her slightly parted lips.

Denji pinched one of her nipples. A moan rolled from her throat. He thought he might cream his pants right then and there. That was enough for tonight. When he lifted his hands away, her eyes opened.

"Is something wrong?" Mari asked in a throaty voice. Her eyes were glassy and half closed. She looked drunk.

"No. Everything is great. Really great," he replied without a hint of a smile. If he enjoyed it, he should really let his face know. "I just think I should, uhm, go home."

"Are you disappointed?" She chewed on her lower lip, her tummy turning anxious somersaults.

"Oh, hell, no. Not disappointed at all. But...I..." He handed her the tank top she had discarded onto the floor between them. "I should go."

Denji turned away from her to pick up his book bag. He stuffed the notebooks inside followed by his text books. He needed a minute to calm down. At the moment, getting to his feet would be an impossible task with his raging erection.

"Thank you," he said without looking at her.

"For what?" She pulled the tank top back on without bothering to put on her bra.

"For everything. The food. The math lesson. For letting me touch you," he added in a soft voice.

"You don't have to thank me for that last one. I wanted you to touch me, Denji," she confessed.

"Really?" He glanced at her with eyes full of doubt. No woman had ever wanted him to touch her except to get something in return whether it was to amuse herself by ridiculing him or to convince him into taking on some lethal task. She had said she would never do those things, but he didn't really believe her.

"Really." Scooting over to kneel beside him, she assisted him with packing his book bag. "You'll be back tomorrow night?"

"Uh huh. Definitely."

Mari followed him to the door. When he turned back to give her one last yearning look, her heart wanted to cave in from those big pleading puppy dog eyes. Although she did not want him to leave her, she did not ask him to stay the night. Soon, but not tonight.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him forward to give him a kiss - a quick but forceful peck on the lips.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Sweetheart! A tingly sensation spread from his chest throughout his body making his fingers and toes prickle as if they had gone numb. He licked his lower lip as if to taste her kiss again after she disappeared back into her apartment.

As much as Makima had excited him, driven him to the edge of his sanity with the desire for her, his feelings for this woman were much different. Everything about her, from her touch to her food, was warm, comforting - downright delicious. And he hasn't even gotten to taste some of the best parts yet.