Academy's Pervert in the D Class

Eva had thought about him too many times to count.

Thought about him bending her over her own desk at the academy, fucking her until the books scattered to the floor, pages fluttering like startled birds.

Thought about him cornering her in the back room of the shop, whispering orders in that voice he used when he pretended to channel the Light, his breath hot against her neck.

Thought about him seeing everything—her secrets, her shame, her need—and still wanting her, his hands claiming her in ways her toys never could.

And now… he did know.

The guy who filled her fantasies, who made her sneak touches in class, who left her trembling at night in her bath—he knew her secret.

He'd seen through her, not with judgment, but with that calm, curious gaze that made her heart stutter.

Eva pressed her hands harder against her lap, her thighs squeezing tight around each other as if to hold in the flood of shame and heat threatening to overwhelm her.

Her face burned, but beneath the embarrassment there was something else, something sharper, brighter.

Relief.

The secret was out.

She didn't have to hide it anymore, not from him.

He knew.

And instead of recoiling, instead of laughing, he'd only looked at her with that spark in his eyes—intrigued, not repelled.

Her heart hammered, loud enough she was sure he could hear it in the quiet room.

Maybe she'd craved this all along.

Maybe part of her had wanted to be caught red-handed, exposed in all her messy, desperate desire.

And if it was Lor who caught her… maybe that was exactly what she needed.

.

.

Lor sat cross-legged on the floor.

His heart thudded with anticipation, a low, steady rhythm that pulsed in his chest as he watched Eva rise unsteadily, her skirt brushing the tops of her thighs with a soft rustle.

She crossed the room to her polished dresser, her movements hesitant, her shoulders taut with nervous energy.

Her fingers trembled as she opened a drawer, the wood creaking softly in the quiet room, and for a moment she froze, her breath hitching as if reconsidering the path she was on.

Then she turned, her arms cradling an array of treasures that made Lor's pulse spike.

Wood polished to a silken sheen, each piece shaped with unmistakable intent.

Long rods, some thick, some slender, some ridged with intricate carvings, others smooth as glass.

A curved handle that gleamed faintly with the residue of oil, its contours designed for precision.

A string of beads carved from pale maple, their surfaces worn slightly darker from use.

All of them nestled in her palms like guilty secrets laid bare under the flickering candlelight, the warm glow casting soft shadows across their curves.

She set them down between them on the floorboards, the sound of wood against wood sharp in the stillness, like a confession given form.

Her cheeks were scarlet, the flush spreading down her neck, but her chin lifted with a shaky defiance, her green eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment.

"These are mine," she said, her voice firmer than her trembling hands betrayed, though it wavered at the edges.

"They… help me. When I'm stressed. When I need release."

Lor widened his eyes, leaning forward slightly, his expression a carefully crafted mask of curiosity and surprise, as if he hadn't already pieced together her secrets by now.

He reached out, his fingers brushing along the smooth shaft of a slender rod, tracing its contours, feigning bewilderment.

"And… How exactly are these used?" he asked, his voice low, each word dripping with innocence, like a scholar puzzling over an ancient artifact. "I've heard about them but I have never seen anything like these before."

Eva's breath hitched audibly, a soft, sharp sound that cut through the quiet.

Her hands twitched in her lap, then fisted in the hem of her skirt, bunching the fabric against her thighs.

Her blush deepened, spreading like wildfire across her collarbones, her skin glowing under the candlelight.

"They're…" She faltered, swallowing hard, her throat bobbing as her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible.

"They're for… pleasuring. For… putting inside."

Lor tilted his head, his gaze steady on her flushed face, holding the act of innocence with practiced ease.

"Inside? These go inside? How?" He let the word hang, heavy with curiosity, his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. "Show me."

Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, her entire body taut with embarrassment, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

When she opened them again, resolve flickered in her green eyes, shaky but undeniable, like a spark refusing to die out.

"I'll… I'll show you during the process," she said, her voice trembling despite her attempt at composure.

"It's… hard to explain in words."

Lor nodded slowly, suppressing the grin that threatened to curl his lips.

He leaned back on his hands, letting the silence stretch between them, the toys gleaming on the floor like forbidden fruit, their presence charging the air with unspoken promises.

Then Eva reached for the buttons of her blouse.

Her fingers shook as she worked them open, one by one, the soft pop of each button releasing a quiet tension in the room.

The fabric parted slowly, revealing the soft swell of her cleavage, her bra—a simple, cream-colored piece with a faint lace trim—straining against the fullness of her breasts, the fabric taut over her hardened nipples.

She slipped the blouse off her shoulders, folding it with care and setting it neatly beside her, her movements neat despite the tremble in her hands.

Lor's breath caught despite himself, a low heat stirring in his core as he took in the sight of her, the candlelight painting her skin in warm, golden hues.

Her skirt followed next, her fingers fumbling with the clasp at her waist until it gave way with a soft click.

She pushed it down, the fabric sliding slowly over the generous curve of her hips, catching briefly before pooling at her knees.

She stepped out of it, leaving her in just her bra and panties—thin, cotton panties that clung to her, the faint dampness at the center betraying her arousal, the fabric outlining the delicate mound beneath with agonizing clarity.

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, a subtle motion that only heightened the tension coiling in Lor's gut.

She stood there, half-naked under the candlelight, her skin flushed pink, the oversized bow in her hair trembling faintly as she fought to hold her ground.

She tried to mask the shame in her eyes, standing tall with her shoulders back, as if daring him to judge her.

But the way her toes curled against the wooden floor, the way her breath hitched with every shallow inhale, told Lor everything—her vulnerability, her desire, her defiance all tangled together in a way that made his cock ache.

He followed her lead, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, baring his lean torso, muscles taut from the day's labor, a faint sheen of sweat catching the light.

He undid his trousers slowly, letting them drop to the floor to reveal the bulge straining against his briefs, the fabric tented with his undeniable hunger, the outline of his erection clear and unapologetic.

Eva's eyes flickered down, catching the shape of him for a fleeting moment before darting away, her blush flaring deeper, a scarlet wave that painted her cheeks and neck.

Her breath quickened, a soft sound in the quiet room.

For a moment, they just stood there, half-naked, the heat between them a living thing, thick and pulsing in the air.

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows that danced across their skin, amplifying every curve, every tremble.

Then Lor closed the space.

Their lips met awkwardly at first, a clumsy collision of breath and teeth, her lips warm and soft but hesitant, unsure.

Eva's breath came hot and uneven against his mouth, her hands hovering uncertainly before settling against his chest, her fingers brushing the heat of his skin.

But the awkwardness melted quickly, replaced by a growing heat that spread like wildfire.

Her lips softened, parted, her tongue shy but eager as it brushed against his, tentative at first, then bolder, a soft moan vibrating in her throat.

Lor groaned into her mouth, the sound low and raw, as he slid a hand up her side, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, savoring the warmth of her skin.

His hand found her breast, cupping it through the bra, his thumb brushing over the stiff peak of her nipple, teasing it through the fabric.

Eva gasped against his lips, her body arching involuntarily into his touch, pressing herself closer until her breasts grazed his chest, the contact electric.

Her hands clutched at him now, gripping his shoulders as if to anchor herself against the tide of sensation.

Their kisses grew wetter, hungrier, the faint sound of lips and tongues mingling with their ragged breaths, filling the quiet room with a rhythm that was almost primal.

Her nails dug into his skin, a soft sting that made him groan louder, his hips shifting instinctively closer.