At the doorway, Miura intended to scold Miko for dawdling but missed her chance as Miko fled. With her gone, Miura dropped all pretense. She pushed the door open, knees clamped tightly, body sinking, face flushed, sweat beading on her forehead. Kagura, seated, noticed tiny glistening droplets trickling from beneath her skirt onto the floor. Yet, the resolute Miura gritted her teeth, waving him off. "Don't… don't help me… I can walk myself…"
Her steps were agonizingly labored, like a student punished with duck-walking but struggling to stand. Kagura sensed she was near tears—her endurance this time far surpassed her previous effort.
"Hah… hah…"
Even closing the door left Miura gasping. Unable to watch, Kagura stood and approached her. Just then, the system chimed.
"Greetings, Lord Kagura. A new bounty is issued. Choose one or skip:
A: Expose your manhood for Yumiko Miura to lick.
B: Pull Yumiko Miura's hair and slap her.
C: Carry Yumiko Miura in a princess hold to another location."
"Tch… C seems most fitting."
Kagura responded to the system.
"N-No… I'm fine… Kagura, I… I can walk!"
"Yumiko, no need to tough it out with me."
He bent down, slipping his arms beneath her knees, and lifted her effortlessly into a princess carry. Skilled with such gestures, he handled it with ease, but for Miura, it was a first. She let out a startled "W-Wah!" and clung tightly to his shirt.
"Hah…"
He carried her to the small desk by the Service Club's window, setting her down.
The system promptly responded: "Thank you for completing the bounty. Rewards: [Retractable Tongue] ability, Triple Recovery Potion x1."
"Retractable… Tongue?"
The name alone intrigued Kagura, perfectly suiting his flair.
"As the name suggests, your tongue can extend and retract at will, up to an additional fifty centimeters. This isn't elastic stretching but true extension, remaining normal unless activated. When extended, it secretes ultra-slick saliva to prevent grasping."
"…Thoughtful, but won't people think I'm Orochimaru with a tongue that long?"
Suspicion aside, he could flawlessly cosplay Orochimaru.
"Rest assured, others won't find your extended tongue abnormal. To prevent self-biting, the extension retracts instantly if you bite."
The system had tweaked perception, which was convenient. Snapping back to reality, Kagura turned to Miura.
She sat, pressing her skirt, legs tightly together, swaying lightly under the desk, ankles twisted, fidgeting. Kagura leaned close, inhaling the rose scent of her hair, whispering, "Yumiko, you've held it a long time, haven't you? This time, you came to me without my asking."
He nipped her earlobe, eliciting a soft whimper. "Tch… That's because…"
Miura clutched her chest, head lowered, blushing deeper, as if resisting his teasing.
His left hand grazed her left thigh, raising goosebumps on her smooth skin, now slightly rough. Unable to bear it, she grabbed his tie, voice trembling with a sob. "Please… I can't… hold it… It's itchy…"
"Can't hold it?" His fingers slid between her thighs, brazenly caressing their soft, elastic inner flesh. His right hand slipped under her skirt, kneading her firm rear against the desk. "Yumiko, please hold on a bit longer…"
"Ugh…" She leaned her head against his chest, sniffling. "You're… bullying me, Kagura… So mean… I trusted you to come here…"
"Sorry, sorry… You're just too adorable, I couldn't help it…" He licked her earlobe and outer ear, unabashedly asking, "Can I take off your panties?"
"Eh…? My panties should…"
She instinctively pressed their edges, fearing he'd snatch them. "Please, Yumiko, I want a good look."
"Ugh… Too embarrassing, I can't…" She shook her head, hands covering her face.
"Not just look—I want to lick them. Can I?"
"That kind of thing…" Miura trembled, muttering, "I wouldn't know…"
"So, Yumiko hates me."
He withdrew his hands, shaking his head regretfully.
"I… I didn't say that!" Seeing his teasing smile, she flushed, eyes shut, flailing her legs in frustration. "D-Do… whatever you want!"
"Then I'll take them off."
"…"
Miura said nothing, giving a barely perceptible nod.
Still clutching her skirt, she didn't resist as his hands slid beneath, tugging her panties' edges, inching them past her hips. She lifted her left hip, then her right, letting him slide the light brown lace panties to her knees.
She pressed the skirt tighter, muttering, "It's… chilly… Kagura, what are you doing…?"
He didn't answer, instead removing her panties entirely. Flipping them, he brought the crotch—damp from her private area—to his nose…
Slap! Miura snatched them back, flushed with anger and shame, gripping them tightly, voice shaking. "Don't… smell them… Pervert Kagura!"
She raised a foot as if to kick but only gestured, unwilling to actually strike. She couldn't bear to hurt him.
Kagura mused inwardly: Can't smell panties but can touch her "mango"? Girls' logic is wild.
He'd read doujinshi where married women allowed oral or creampies but forbade kissing. Were real-life affairs like that?
From the club's pile of miscellany, he pulled a non-standard oversized basketball, placing it on the floor before the desk under Miura's puzzled gaze. Before she could protest, he sat on it.
His face level with her knees, she hurriedly stuffed the panties into her pocket, legs clamped, hands pressing her skirt's hem, demanding, "W-What? Kagura, what are you doing?"
"Need I say?" He grasped her calves, hands sliding up her socks to her knees. She pressed her knees, panicking. "W-Wait… This… this is cheating!"
"No good?"
He released her, feigning a pitiful look.
"Ugh… Well…" She turned away, muttering, "Not… completely no… Just a little…"
How can I refuse those eyes?
"Then…" He touched his lips, teasing, "Yumiko, spread your legs yourself."
"How could I do that? Are you an idiot?!"
"Please!"
He clasped his hands, winking with his left eye. "…"
Miura withdrew her right hand from her knee, resting it half-fisted by her lips. Her left hand stayed on her left knee, silently parting her legs three or four centimeters.
Honey-hued sunset light bathed her right leg in a maple-syrup glow. Dim rays from the window reflected off his white shirt, insufficient to reveal her skirt's secrets. But leaning close, he inhaled her rose fragrance, the faint breeze from beneath her skirt tantalizing his nose, utterly thrilling.
"Tch… That's enough, right? I'm super embarrassed."
"You're about to burst, aren't you?"
"Hah…?! You… you're not making me… here…?"
"No, you must hold on." He swiftly pressed her knees, but she was quicker, slamming her legs shut, shaking her head. "No, no, no!"
"Tch…"
Holding her knees, he lifted her right calf, licking from sock to knee. She shuddered, squealing "E-Eh?!" before slapping his head, stifling shame. "Jerk Kagura, what are you doing?!"
"Didn't I say? I want to lick. Please, Yumiko."
"Ugh…" She flailed, avoiding his gaze, but finally looked back, shoulders slumping. "Just… a little…?"
"Thanks, Yumiko, you're the best."
"Shut up, idiot!"
"Let me taste your 'mango.'"
"…You're shameless saying that." Spreading her legs slowly, she grumbled, "Aren't you a piano prince? Is this okay?"
"It's fine, isn't it?"
"What's fine?! Pervert…"
Muttering, she parted her legs to match his head's width. He pinched her skirt's hem, rolling it up.
She didn't resist or stop him, only touching his hair, seeking comfort.
As the skirt rose, she instinctively tried to close her legs, but he shook his head. Forcing down her shame, she spread them wider, letting him have his way.
Soon, her hairless mound, framed by soft thigh flesh, appeared before him.
Her thick labia hid her clit from direct view—visible but subtle. He pressed her abdomen, and she leaned back, hands braced behind, knowingly pushing her tender private area forward as her legs spread closer to his face.
"Gorgeous… These vein-like patterns around your 'mango' are sexy and lewd… Yumiko, you're amazing!" He leaned closer, praising in an admiring tone.
Flustered, she couldn't decide whether to cover up, snapping, "Stop talking! You don't need to report everything!"
"Can I touch?"
"Do whatever…! Stop asking embarrassing questions!"
"Thanks, Yumiko, you're great."
He lifted her legs onto the desk. Her back against the windowsill, legs spread in an M-shape, leaning back, her secret garden lay fully exposed.
From slightly darker beige to faint cherry pink spanned mere centimeters. An elliptical private area, its top held a subtly protruding cherry-colored nub nestled in thick folds. The glistening seam sparkled with her "holy water," some droplets spilling from the lower dip, betraying her strenuous restraint.
Thanks to the [Pure Spring] item, Kagura knew this was pure water.
Licking his right index finger, he announced, "I'm touching," and pressed it near the top of her thick seam, sliding right.
The flushed seam parted, revealing a short cherry-colored ridge, thinly veiled, extending just over two centimeters from the top, its left edge visible. His index and middle fingers "knelt" on the seam, pinching the delicate ridge, sliding down to grip most of her clit.
"Ow…"
She flinched, legs twitching.
Her sensitivity made his direct touch painful. "Sorry…" He released it, hands fully pressing, thumbs gently parting the mid-lower seam.
The pink seam flipped open, lips splaying, forming a peach-heart shape. Miura's flesh was thicker than most (thicker than Ai or Kawasaki), giving a layered look. The inner short pink petals, forced apart, exposed two small openings: the tight upper one for "holy water," the lower for pleasure.
Thumbs pressed further, spreading the petals, revealing the elastic pink honeypot, contracting from shame and pleasure. Unlike the anus, it couldn't fully close, each dilation offering a glimpse of intricate pink folds forming interlocking C-shaped rings, visible near the entrance, slowly contracting.
"Looks delicious… Yumiko, let me taste." He licked his lips, salivating.
"It's… been in panties all day, sweaty, smelly… and I leaked…" "I want to lick. Please let me."
"…Fine."
She bit her lip, glancing at the nearby window.
No one was watching—only her right leg on the desk would be visible.
True to his word, he straightened, burying his face between her thighs.
Her skirt, held up, fell over his head. Feeling an intrusion, she reflexively clamped her legs, but only trapped his face, unable to stop him.
His tongue first lapped the spilled droplets, then slid upward into the seam, circling the writhing honeypot's entrance.
The taste differed here—excited female folds and outer lips secreted lubricating mucus, the outer part carrying an arousing hormonal scent but little taste. Probing the entrance, he tasted a faintly salty, astringent, indescribably lewd flavor.
Miura adjusted, scooting outward, freeing her hands. Nervously yet eagerly, she gripped his head, scanning the room, eyes on the unlocked door. Pleasure surged like faint currents up her spine, radiating to her nerve endings.
Her womb writhed, feeling his slug-like tongue slither through her lewd seam, lapping, sucking, teasing her cherry lips, leaving saliva, sweeping her seam's juices, then flicking the now-deep-pink, engorged nub like a dragonfly skimming water.
The first to see her private area was Kagura; the first to lick it, him too. He'd parted her thick, shameful lips, exposing her pink, lascivious flesh, gazing from her writhing lower hole to her depths, as if her womb itself was watched. Yet it felt no shame, only excitement, contracting eagerly, as if yearning to bear his child.
He didn't linger on her clit, moving elsewhere. Normally, he'd stir with his tongue, but now he pressed his face fully, lips horizontal against her vertical lips, sucking gently to draw her left petal into his mouth, tongue sliding along its edge, pulling it out, then repeating with the right, wrinkling, smoothing, tugging softly. Pressing fully, he pushed both petals to the center, sucking the gap like extracting a snail from its shell, drawing both into his mouth.
They slipped from his lips, slick with saliva and her mucus, as her private area twitched. As they escaped, he pressed his lips, sliding his tongue up and down the deep-pink seam, from the smooth, slightly firm pink pearl to the breathing, twitching hole, not sparing the tightly controlled upper opening. Coating her flesh with saliva, he licked voraciously, as if to devour her.
Miura couldn't hold back, gripping his hair, shaking her head incoherently. "No, no… I… I'm… Lift your head… I can't hold it!"
She'd reached her limit—Kagura felt goosebumps on her thighs. She begged him to stop, but her legs clamped his head tighter, ears aching, trapping him.
Unfazed, he intensified, making lewd "slurping" sounds, amplifying the water noises to fray her nerves. As she leaned to clutch his head, trembling, his tongue breached her tight honeypot, the retractable tongue plunging into her lubricated depths, reaching her firm cervical ring, stirring her climaxing hole, sweeping every pink fold's lewd mucus, relentlessly teasing her sensitive depths.
"Ughhh… Ugh—!"
A string of shameful whimpers, a choked pause, then a muffled high-pitched cry erupted. Her right hand, like a rigid hairpin, dug into his hair, pinning his head between her thighs. Her left hand covered her lips, body pressed down, hair shielding her face, compressing her overfull abdomen. Under this multi-point assault, she convulsed uncontrollably, climaxing.
Her water-retaining sphincter gave way in the full-body spasms, unleashing a day's worth of "holy water" in a clear torrent into his mouth. Thanks to [Pure Spring], it was merely rose-scented pure water. Her climax surged more tides from her cervix, sticky, slightly salty, warm, lewd fluids flooding from her depths, soaking his tongue, mingling with the pure water along his curled tongue, flowing into his mouth.
Gulp—Gulp—
He drank eagerly, deliberately stirring her honeypot, stimulating her post-climax. She sobbed, shaking her head, shrieking, "No—!!"
Her "no" wasn't rejecting his licking but herself—another climax so soon would blank her mind, turning her into a fool.
Half a minute later, his chest soaked with her water, Kagura stood beside her. Miura, eyes rolled back, collapsed, legs shamelessly spread, pink tongue lolling like an anesthetized cat. Her short skirt bunched at her abdomen, the hem beneath her rear drenched dark, dripping along the desk's edge, pooling on the wooden floor. Her licked-open lips still oozed a faint clear stream, further wetting the skirt.
Sweat glistened on her forehead, her abdomen contracting, each spasm coaxing more faint spurts from her lips, weakening until they merely trickled from her honeypot, clinging to her skin.
She breathed heavily; he suppressed his own, admiring the lascivious scene. From the distant window, Hayato played forward on the soccer field, oblivious to his usually compliant Miura's depraved display.
Whatever—Hayato shot goals with a ball, Kagura with his tongue. Same difference.
He snapped over ten photos with his phone—full-body, half-body, and close-ups of her private area. He had no cuckold fetish; these were for his collection.
His home PC and private cloud held thousands of Ai's lewd photos, some from when she was eight or nine, a maid in a garter skirt sans panties, lifting her hem to show her mound—criminally provocative.
"Don't… don't…" Miura tried covering her face but gave up, shyly warning, "Don't show anyone…"
"I swear on my honor."
He leaned to her face, gripping her shoulders, kissing her lips. She hesitated—his mouth had just been on her private area, drinking her water—but since he'd done that, what was there to refuse? Like a drifting raft, she let him kiss her dizzy.
During the kiss, his hand slid between her thighs, thumb pressing her nub, index and middle fingers gliding through her seam, lubricated by water and fluids, caressing relentlessly.
Knock, knock, knock! A crisp, forceful knock jolted Miura. She scrambled off the desk.
With lightning speed, Kagura cast "Cleanse," erasing the scene. The Service Club's this busy today? It's usually deserted!
Miura, panty-less, stepped away, arms crossed, leaning against the bookshelf. Kagura calmed himself, calling, "Come in."
Barely three seconds passed since the knock.
Creak— The door opened, revealing Kawasaki, back in her Sobu High JK uniform and loafers.
(The shoes were Kagura's gift, bought because he found them prettier than her sneakers, though they made her taller, intimidating shorter boys.)
Her jacket tied around her skirt, she slung her bag over her shoulder, eyeing Kagura, then squinting at Miura. "Oh… Seeing you here's unexpected."
What's Yumiko Miura doing here? Another Kagura seeker? Whatever, I'll do my job and avoid meddling.
"Hah? What's that mean?"
Panty-less, Miura's voice wavered, guilt-ridden after their illicit desk antics.
"Nothing. Think what you want. You done? I've got business with him."
Kawasaki leaned on the doorframe, unfazed.
Height-wise, Miura was tall, but Kawasaki taller, with a larger bust—Miura's C+ paled against Kawasaki's D. A clear loss.
"First come, first served. I'm not done."
Miura toyed with her curled hair, bristling. "Heh, hearing 'I' from someone like you is nauseating."
Kawasaki rolled her eyes.
"Oh, back in uniform loafers? Weren't those tacky sneakers fine?"
"Don't lump me with you. I've got stuff to do—don't waste my time."
Kawasaki closed in, nearly chest-to-chest with Miura.
Oddly, Kagura saw them as two stubborn bulls locking horns.
Saying that would earn me a punch from each, right?
"Huh?"
"Hah?"
Their heads inched closer—Kagura mused a nudge would make them kiss. But either would probably gag.
"Alright, enough. Miura-san, your business is done, right? If not, please leave. Give me face—don't fight in the Service Club."
Miura: "…Fine, whatever."
Kawasaki: "I don't want to fight…"
They spoke simultaneously, glared, and turned away. Miura, twirling her hair, left first.
Fearless in haunted settings, she strode out alone. Kawasaki was brave too—unless you called it a ghost house, she'd breeze through.
"Hah… So, what's up?"
Kagura perched on the desk Miura had occupied, asking.
"Two things…" With Miura gone, Kawasaki softened, shyly scratching her cheek, clutching her bag. "First… career shadowing… What's your plan?"
"Oh, sit, let's talk."
He gestured to the sofa.
"No, I'll talk and go," she refused, shaking her head, turning away. "Shadowing… Have you picked your group?"
"Sorry," Kagura guessed she wanted to join him, shaking his head apologetically. "You might've missed the blackboard. I wasn't doing shadowing, but Hikigaya and Kato convinced me to join them."
"Oh… I was gonna ask where you're going, but never mind…"
"My place. One wants to be a househusband, the other a housewife, so they'll learn from my trainee butler 'Hasaka.'"
"Hasaka…" Kawasaki blushed, covering her rear, coughing. "What… what should I do for shadowing?"
"You haven't decided?"
"What, like it's not your problem?" She glared, face flushed.
"Uh… sorry," he waved. "Besides me, any groups you want?"
"…Even with you, I'm one short. Do I look like I have friends here?"
"Ah—" He faltered, then pointed outside. "How about Miur—"
"Absolutely not!!"
She stomped, resolute.
"You can't skip. You're aiming for university, right? Shadowing credits matter!"
"I'd rather skip than group with her."
"Sigh… Miura's not bad." He stepped forward, clasping her left hand, "oily" stroking until she got goosebumps. "Please, I'll ask her. If she needs someone, join her? I'd love to see you two as friends."
"…Is this an order?" She pouted, displeased.
"Kinda…?"
"Fine… Ask. If there's space, I'll try." He called Miura.
Her answer: Absolutely not!!
"Please, Miura-san, do me a favor! Don't you need one more?" He wielded his trump card.
After much hemming, Miura slumped, reluctantly agreeing. She and Ebina Hina had teamed up, but no other girls dared join.
"Thanks…" Kawasaki turned, blushing, thanking him, sneaking glances. "You busy tonight?"
"Hm? Not really…"
"I told my family I work at your place, but they don't believe me. Could you visit to clear it up? My siblings are annoying. I'll cook whatever you want, treat you to a meal. It's sudden, I know… If you don't want to, I won't push…"
The system chimed: "Greetings, Lord Kagura. A new bounty is issued. Choose one or skip:
A: Reject Saki Kawasaki's invitation.
B: Accept Saki Kawasaki's invitation.
C: Ignore Saki Kawasaki's invitation."
"B feels right."
Kagura responded, returning to reality. "No problem, I'll come."
He patted her head, pulling her forward, kissing her lips lightly.
Kawasaki worked Friday afternoon to Monday morning, with ample rest and simple tasks—mostly fetching what he needed. Earning 300,000 yen monthly for such ease was cushy, no wonder her family doubted.
The system chimed again: "Thank you for completing the bounty. Rewards: [Expanded Semen] ability, Female Sensitivity Boost Potion (5%) x1."
"Expanded Semen??"
The system's abilities grew odder.
"Yes, you already possess [Sustained High-Volume Ejaculation], but they're compatible. With [Sustained], you tire after roughly 100ml per session. [Expanded Semen] allows your semen to self-replicate, expanding up to 2,000 times, adjustable at will during ejaculation."
"Two thousand times…"
Kagura calculated—a terrifying prospect.
At max expansion, 1ml became 2 liters; 100ml, 200 liters…
Good grief, enough to fill a bathtub for a semen bath.