Seiji kept the amulet in his locker all day.
He didn't want to risk it. Not in the crowded hallways. Not while he was sitting in class with Masashi. It was a secret weapon, waiting for the right moment.
The final bell.
Here's the right moment.
The school emptied out. Seiji stayed behind, waiting for his appointment with Ms. Takumi. He went into the restroom, checked the stalls, and locked the door.
He pulled the amulet out. The metal was cold at first. But as soon as Seiji put it over his neck, it began to hum and warm up.
A low vibration reached Seiji's core.
I've missed you.
Seiji tucked his shirt.
He went toward Ms. Takumi's office. The corridors were long and quiet.
He heard Ms. Takumi behind the door. She was speaking with another teacher. Seiji leaned against the wall, waiting.
The door finally opened.
"Seiji," Ms. Takumi nodded.
She looked tired. Her eyes. Actually, everything about her looked tired.
Seiji followed her inside. He closed the door behind him and turned the lock. Ms. Takumi didn't hear the click.
"Take a seat, Seiji," she said. Business-like. Distant.
She looked up at him from her papers. As if something started bothering her.
Seiji sat down across from her. Back straight. Strong eye contact.
Ms. Takumi picked up a folder. She pulled out a sheet of paper—his transcript. She slid it across the desk toward him. She wanted him to see the red ink.
"Look at your marks," she said. "And tell me how you feel. I know how I'd feel if I had to repeat the final year."
You want to hear that I'm ashamed of myself, lady? I am. But you won't hear that from me!
Seiji reached for the paper. As he took it, his fingers brushed against Ms. Takumi's hand.
Ms. Takumi flinched. She froze. She blinked several times. Like she wasn't sure what she was looking at.
"Seiji?" she muttered. "Did you say something?"
Seiji shook his head. Slowly. Looking her straight in the eye.
The amulet was burning against his chest.
Her severe expression started to change.
"I... I was going to say," she began, her tone softer. Uncertain. "I was going to say that you need to study more. Maybe... maybe you'll be able to improve in the time that's left."
She stood up. She walked around the side of the desk. Probably to take the transcript back from Seiji. At least she reached for it. She could've reached over the table, but she came over.
As she reached out for the paper, Seiji caught her wrist.
He held her hand. Firmly. He felt her pulse jumping under his thumb.
Ms. Takumi flushed, a deep color spreading from her neck to her cheeks. She stood before him silently.
"I'm sorry I haven't been studying well," Seiji said. Quietly, but clearly. Steadily.
"Seiji, you should... you shouldn't hold my hand," she muttered. But she didn't move.
"I think I owe you an apology," he said.
He reached out with his other hand. He placed it firmly on her thigh, over her tidy, boring, professional skirt.
Ms. Takumi gasped. Her knees buckled a little.
"Seiji..."
He stood up. He was taller than her. Their faces were inches apart. He could smell her perfume—something floral and very light. She wasn't the kind of teacher to dress nicely or wear a flashy perfume.
But Seiji always felt there was something about her.
Something inside her. Different. Suppressed.
"Let me show you how sorry I am," he said.
He didn't rush. He slowly backed her up until her hips hit the edge of her desk. She didn't fight him. She sank onto the wood, her legs parting naturally.
Seiji reached down and lifted her skirt.
She was wearing simple black underwear.
"You have good taste," Seiji said.
"You can't... not here," she whispered. But she arched her back toward him.
Your body betrays you, teacher.
Seiji unzipped his pants and pushed her panties aside.
"Are you going to—?"
"Yes," he finished for her.
He rubbed his cock against her pussy. She was already wet.
Liar! You're more than ready for me.
He pushed inside in one heavy thrust.
Ms. Takumi's head snapped back. She gasped. A loud, desperate moan. She gripped the edges of the desk so hard it creaked.
Seiji started to move. He wasn't gentle. He pounded into her, watching her face. He wanted to see her shatter. He could see that already did.
She wasn't a teacher anymore. She was a woman. A lusty woman, shaking under him.
"Oh, Seiji..." she gasped. "I haven't had sex... in so long... I forgot..."
Seiji lifted her legs halfway. This way he could drive even deeper. All the way.
With each thrust, Ms. Takumi was convulsing stronger and stronger, her body hitting the desk rhythmically.
"Oh god," she whimpered. "Oh no... Seiji... I… I… Aaaaaaaaaaah!"
She came with a stifled cry, as she clamped down on him. Seiji didn't stop. He kept pounding through her climax. He was angry and he was close.
Take it, you cold bitch!
He exploded into her with a growl. He couldn't stop thrusting.
Deep. Deep. Ever deeper.
He finally stopped. Out of breath.
Ms. Takumi looked completely disoriented. Her hair was loose. Her legs were shaking.
Seiji pulled out and stepped back from the desk.
"That's my apology," he said and straightened his clothes.
Ms. Takumi sat on the desk, blinking. She looked like she had just woken up. She tried to smooth her skirt down. Her hands were shaking.
"So what are we going to do about my mark?" Seiji asked.
"We..." she mumbled. She cleared her throat. She wouldn't look him in the eye. "Of course, something can be done. I'll... I'll fix it. I'll change the records."
"Good."
Seiji watched a thin stream of his cum run down her pale leg. She must've noticed it too because she tried to press her legs together.
"Don't," he said.
Now she looked at him. Confused.
"I like it like that," Seiji said.
Then he turned and walked toward the door.
"See you later, Ms. Takumi."
He unlocked the door and stepped out.
The school was empty. The sun was shining outside.
Seiji felt good. Light. Powerful.
He had solved his math problem.
He headed for the back exit. He didn't want anyone to see him. He wanted to get through the sports storage area, which would be empty at this hour.
He hopped to the bottom of the last stair—
In front of him was Ayame.