Academy's Pervert in the D Class

Chapter 238: Mothers



She exhaled sharply, focus unbreakable even as her body gleamed with exertion.

Lor's cock twitched harder, a jolt of heat shooting through him.

"Oh, gods," he breathed, pressing himself back against the tree, his grin widening like a thief who'd just found an unlocked vault.

"Jackpot."

Two mothers.

One soft, lush brunette with curves that could swallow him whole, her body a promise of warmth and surrender.

One hard, tomboyish amazon with a physique built to dominate, to squeeze him dry with raw power.

His heart pounded, excitement coursing through him like wine, heady and intoxicating.

He bit his lip, his eyes darting between the two houses, his mind racing with possibilities.

He shifted, his trousers tight against the growing hardness, his grin sharpening as he weighed his options.

If he played this right, if he spun the web carefully, he could have them—both.

Think Lor Think.

You are a genius when it comes to things like these.

The thought sent a thrill through him, his cock throbbing as he stepped out from the shade, his boots soft on the grass.

His mind raced, a whirlwind of calculated risks and primal desire.

He couldn't just barge in and demand their surrender; they'd chase him out with a broom and a call to his mother before he could blink.

He had no lust magic, no enchanted apples, no arcane tricks up his sleeve.

But he had observation—sharp, predatory.

Women like them—curvy, mature, alone—had needs, unspoken hungers that simmered beneath the surface.

All they needed was a push, a subtle nudge to tip them over the edge.

And Lor was a master of giving pushes.

He darted low across the yard, his boots silent on the grass, crouching below the window ledges to avoid detection.

His heart pounded, adrenaline and arousal a heady mix as he glanced through the crack in Myra's curtains.

Maris was still at the sink, humming faintly, her blouse clinging wetter now, the damp fabric molding to the swell of her breasts, her brunette hair sticking to her flushed cheeks.

Across the fence, Vela had set down her weights and was stretching, bending low until her shorts tightened over her muscular ass, the fabric straining with every movement.

Lor licked his lips, his cock twitching harder.

Time to act.

First step: atmosphere.

He plucked a small stone from the ground, rolling it between his fingers, and tossed it through the open window of Myra's house.

It clinked off the counter with a sharp, deliberate sound—not loud enough to alarm, just enough to startle.

Maris jumped, the plate slipping from her hands into the soapy water with a soft splash.

She cursed under her breath, then laughed at herself, a low, nervous sound that relaxed her posture, her cheeks flushing deeper as she wiped her hands on her skirt.

Good, Lor thought, his grin widening.

The laugh softened her, opened her to suggestion, her body already primed by the morning's heat.

He crouched lower, grabbing a stick and scraping it against the barrel of the rain gutter.

It moaned—a low, vibrating groan that carried through the air, suggestive and primal.

Through the crack in the curtain, he saw Maris pause, her chest rising higher, her breath quickening.

Her thighs pressed together unconsciously, a subtle shift that made Lor's pulse race.

Oh, yes, he thought, you're alone, doing chores, and a sound like that will of course scare you.

Across the fence, Vela straightened from her stretch, sweat gleaming down the valley of her chest, her sports bra straining against her full breasts.

Lor grabbed another stone and flicked it at the frame of her window, the thunk sharp.

Vela's head snapped toward Myra's house, her green eyes narrowing with curiosity.

Right on cue, Maris leaned out her window, brushing damp strands of brunette hair from her face, her blouse clinging to her curves.

"Vela?" she called, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and unease.

Vela smirked, wiping sweat from her neck with a towel, her movements confident, almost predatory. "Yeah?"

"I swear… I hear strange noises today. Almost thought someone was in here with me." Maris's laugh was light, but there was a tremor in it, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

Vela's laugh was low, confident, a sound that vibrated with unspoken promise.

"Maybe you just want someone in there." Her words hung in the summer air, heavy and suggestive, a spark thrown into dry tinder.

Maris froze, her laugh faltering, then chuckled nervously, her fingers fumbling with the top button of her blouse.

"I've got dishes. Can you come over for a while.," she said, but her tone softened, her eyes lingering on Vela's toned form across the fence.

"Coming!" Vela tossed her towel aside, her muscles rippling as she crossed the yard with a purposeful stride, her boots crunching softly on the gravel.

Lor crouched lower, his breath shallow, eyes wide with anticipation. When Vela knocked on Maris's back door, it opened almost instantly, Maris's flushed cheeks glowing in the morning light.

And just like that, Lor's plan began to weave itself into reality.

Inside, they moved to the kitchen, the air warm with steam and the faint scent of soap.

Maris fiddled with her blouse buttons, loosening the top ones, the fabric parting to reveal the delicate lace of her bra, the swell of her breasts glistening with sweat.

Vela leaned against the counter, arms crossed, her sports bra straining against her chest, her green eyes sharp and teasing as they lingered on Maris's neckline.

"You work too hard in the mornings," she teased, her voice low, a playful edge that carried something deeper.

Maris swatted her towel playfully, but her hand lingered on Vela's shoulder, fingers brushing the corded muscle.

"You workout hard every morning too," she countered, her eyes flicking to Vela's toned arms, a faint flush creeping up her neck. "Honestly, you're going to scare off men with those."

Vela snorted, her smirk widening. "Scare them, or make them beg?" Her voice was rough, confident, a challenge thrown into the space between them.

Maris laughed, a short, nervous sound, and turned back to the sink, her hands plunging into the soapy water with a faint splash.


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