Academy's Pervert in the D Class

The room hung heavy with the heat of their bodies and the faint, lingering musk of sex.

The sheets, twisted and damp with sweat and the spill of their release, clung to Silvia's trembling body, molding to her curves.

She lay on her back, legs weak and splayed, her auburn hair a wild halo fanning across the pillow, strands sticking to her sweat-slicked forehead.

Her glasses, flung aside in the chaos, lay forgotten somewhere on the floor, leaving her hazel eyes—still unfocused, glazed with the haze of pleasure—blinking rapidly as she tried to claw her way back to reality.

Then it hit her.

Her breath caught, a sharp hitch in her throat, as she yanked the sheets up to cover her naked chest, clutching them like a lifeline.

"Gods," she whispered, her voice trembling with horror. "Lor… I… I'm your teacher."

The word came out like a confession, heavy with shame, her eyes wide and darting as if she expected judgment to descend at any moment.

Lor leaned over her, propped on one elbow, his body still half-hard, sweat dripping from his temple to trace a slow path down his jaw.

He smiled faintly, a mix of amusement and something softer, his hazel eyes glinting in the lamplight.

"Yeah. You are."

Her blush deepened, spreading like wildfire down her throat, staining her pale skin a vivid crimson.

"This is… wrong. Completely wrong. I've ruined everything." Her voice cracked, her hands tightening on the sheets, pulling them tighter over her breasts as if they could shield her from her own guilt.

"What if your mother heard us? What if—gods, what am I doing?"

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, as he reached out to brush her damp bangs back from her flushed forehead, his touch gentle but deliberate.

"She didn't. You were quiet enough." His tone was teasing, but there was a reassurance in it, a quiet confidence that eased the panic in her eyes.

Her hands trembled, clutching the sheets even tighter, her knuckles whitening.

"I should have stopped. I should never have asked the Light for this. I've lost all dignity—" Her voice broke, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, a mix of shame and self-recrimination.

"Miss Silvia," Lor interrupted gently, the name slipping from his lips with a reverence that carried just a hint of teasing, grounding her in the moment.

Her hazel eyes flicked to his, wide and vulnerable, searching his face for something—judgment, mockery, anything to confirm her fears.

He leaned closer, kissing her cheek softly, his lips warm against her flushed skin, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, "You're beautiful. And I wanted you just as much."

She trembled, her body betraying her even as her words came weakly, faltering under the weight of her own desire.

"Don't say that… don't make this sound good…" But her voice lacked conviction, her body leaning into his touch despite herself.

"But it is," Lor said, cupping her face with one hand, his thumb brushing her cheek as he tilted her eyes to meet his.

"You're hot, smart, and… clumsy as hell." His smirk widened, a playful glint in his gaze as his thumb traced the curve of her jaw. "And that just makes you sexier."

She let out a shaky laugh despite herself, the sound muffled as she buried her face against his chest, her auburn hair tickling his skin.

Her body was warm, soft, and pliant against his, her shame warring with the comfort of his embrace.

"I'm a terrible teacher," she whispered into him, her voice barely audible, thick with self-doubt.

"You're my favorite one," Lor said easily, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her closer until her bare breasts pressed against his chest, the sheets slipping slightly with the movement.

Silvia melted against him, clinging tighter, her breath ragged, her heart hammering against his ribs.

She'd never felt so ashamed—and never so wanted. The duality tore at her, but his warmth, his steady presence, held her together.

"Lor…" she whispered again, as if saying his name could anchor her in the storm of her emotions.

He kissed the top of her head, his grin hidden in her hair, a quiet satisfaction settling over him. "It's okay, Miss Silvia. No one has to know."

Her body shook once, a half-sob, half-laugh, and then she buried herself deeper into his arms, giving in to the comfort of his embrace.

They lay like that for a long moment, their warmth mingling, heartbeats syncing in the quiet, the world outside their tangled sheets fading to nothing.

But Lor's mind was never still.

His hand, resting innocently on her back, began to trace lazy paths over her skin, fingertips gliding over the damp curve of her shoulder, down the slope of her spine, lingering at the small of her back.

She sighed softly, not noticing at first, too wrapped in the comfort of being held, her body still humming from the intensity of their coupling.

But his hand slid lower, tracing the dip of her lower back, over the swell of her ass.

He cupped one cheek gently, kneading the soft flesh, his grin widening when her breath hitched, her body tensing slightly in his arms.

"Lor…" she murmured, her voice carrying a faint warning, but it was weak, undermined by the way her hips shifted subtly against him.

He kissed her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear, murmuring, "Relax. Just touching."

His voice was soothing, but there was a wicked edge to it, a promise of more.

His hand slid between her cheeks, fingers tracing slow enticing circles around the tight ring of her asshole.

Her entire body tensed in his arms, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as her nails dug into his back. "Lor—no—that's—ahh—"

But he pressed anyway, slow and teasing, the tip of his finger circling the sensitive ring until it slipped past, just a little, breaching her with a gentle insistence.

Her body jolted, her face burning as she gasped into his shoulder, her voice muffled but trembling.

"Gods—Lor—"