Issei's morning routine was a sacred ritual. It involved a specific brand of instant coffee, a ten-minute power nap on the living room couch, and the brisk walk to the gates of Kuoh Academy, a walk that always ended with the sight of Rias Gremory. Usually, she was a vision of crimson-haired elegance as she gave him a smile from the window in the Occult Research Clubroom.
Today was different.
Today, the ritual was shattered by a blast of pale white skin and a skimpy yellow oufit.
He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, his half-empty can of coffee slipping from his fingers and clattering to the pavement. His brain, a simple, often single-minded device, tried to process the input. It was like trying to run a supercomputer on a potato battery.
There she was.
Rias Gremory.
His Buchou.
At the academy gates.
But not in the crisp, sophisticated uniform that commanded respect and fueled a thousand fantasies. No. She was wearing… a cheerleading outfit.
A very tight cheerleading outfit.
The top, a shade of vibrant yellow that should have been cheerful but was somehow positively lewd, was stretched to its absolute limit across her chest. The fabric strained, digging into the soft swell of her magnificent breasts, creating a chasm of cleavage so deep and inviting it could make a philosopher question the meaning of life. The Kuoh Academy emblem, stitched in black on the uniform, was warped and distorted, pulled taut over the curve of her left boob. The sleeves were little more than straps of fabric, leaving her shoulders and toned arms completely bare.
Her skirt was a crime against decency. A flared, pleated thing of matching yellow that was impossibly short, it barely grazed the tops of her thighs. Every slight shift of her weight, every gentle breeze, threatened to send the hem fluttering up to reveal what lay beneath. Her long, pale legs were on full display, ending in a pair of pristine white sneakers and matching yellow socks that rose to her mid-calf.
And beside her, giggling behind a delicate hand, was Akeno. She was in the exact same outfit, a second, equally devastating vision. The white top hugged her own generous figure, her hips swaying with a deliberate, hypnotic rhythm that was already causing traffic accidents on the nearby road. The dark tresses of her hair were pulled into a high ponytail, swaying with every giggle, a stark, beautiful contrast to the bright uniform.
A crowd was already forming. A semi-circle of slack-jawed students, both male and female, had formed a circle around the pair. A pair of second-year boys were physically holding up a third, who looked like he was about to faint. One of the girls in the crowd was blushing furiously, but she couldn't tear her eyes away, her own hand subconsciously smoothing down her own, far more modest skirt.
And at the center of this pandemonium was Rias, who had a smile on her face as she scanned the crowd. Her eyes finally landed on him.
"Ise-kun!" she called out, her voice light and musical, which cut through the murmur of the crowd. She gave a little wave, a gesture that made the entire top of her uniform jiggle in a way that should have been illegal.
He found himself moving, his legs operating on pure instinct, propelling him forward through the parting sea of students. He felt like a pilgrim who had just seen the holy grail, a grail that was currently wearing a skirt so short it barely qualified as a belt.
"B-Buchou?! W-What are you wearing?!" he finally managed to stammer, stopping a few feet from her, his eyes doing a frantic, uncontrollable dance between her face and her chest and her legs and back to her chest.
Rias placed a finger on her chin, adopting a look of mock innocence. "This? Oh, it's just a little something I picked up. There were a few cheerleaders sick today, and with a big game tonight... we decided to take over for them! To support our athletes, of course."
"Of course," Akeno added, her voice a husky purr. She leaned slightly toward him, and the scent of jasmine and something electric filled his senses. "A little team spirit can go a long way, don't you think, Ise-kun?"
Issei's brain short-circuited. Team spirit. Right. He tried to picture Rias Gremory, the Crimson Ruin Princess, waving pom-poms and shouting "Go, team, go!" The image was so absurd, so utterly divorced from reality, that a strange, strangled noise escaped his throat.
"A-Akeno-san, too...?" he squeaked, his gaze darting to her. Her uniform was just as tight, just as revealing. The way the white fabric stretched across her own impressive chest was enough to make him dizzy.
"Mm-hmm," Akeno hummed, giving a little twirl that made her skirt flare up, giving a tantalizing glimpse of her massive, bubbly cheeks. The collective gasp from the watching male students was loud.
Rias watched him, a knowing, predatory glint in her blue eyes. She saw the way his pupils had dilated, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way he was subtly shifting his weight, trying to adjust the sudden, painful tightness in his pants. She was reeling him in, and she knew it.
"We'll be cheering tonight, Ise-kun," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper that only he could hear. She took a step closer, invading his personal space, the warmth of her body a palpable presence. "For the whole academy to see. Every student crammed into that sweaty gymnasium, all their eyes glued to us."
Her breath was warm against his ear, and a shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the morning air.
"Can you imagine it?" she murmured, her lips practically brushing against his earlobe. "All those boys. The basketball team, the soccer club, the entire student body... every single one of them, staring. Staring at my breasts bouncing in this top. Staring at Akeno's legs. They'll all be hard, Ise. Every last one of them will have a boner. Thinking about us. Wanting us."
A strangled, choked sound came from Issei's throat. His cock, which had already been straining against his zipper, now felt like it was trying to drill its way through the fabric. The image she was painting was a masterpiece of arousing torment. A packed gymnasium, a roaring crowd, and at the center of it all, Rias and Akeno, objects of pure lust for every male student he knew. The two women that Issei lusted for so heavily, and that he both desired and idolized, would have their bodies on display for everyone.
"The gym is going to be packed to the rafters," Rias continued, her voice a silken poison, "But not because of the game, silly."
She pulled back, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. She gave him a quick wink. "They'll be coming for us. For the show."
The wink was the final straw. It was a private, shared moment in a very public space. It was an acknowledgment. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and she was loving every second of it.
"Imagine it, Ise-kun," Akeno added, stepping up on his other side, sandwiching him between them. Her fingers lightly traced a path down his arm, a feather-light touch that made the hair stand up. "All those eyes, all that desire... all focused on Rias and me. All those hot, sweaty boys, thinking filthy, delicious thoughts about the two women you care for most."
Issei's vision swam. The world narrowed to the press of their bodies, the scent of their perfume, and the unbearable, pulsing ache in his groin. He could feel his cock twitching violently, a frantic, trapped beast. He was drowning in a sea of yellow and white fabric, of pale skin and knowing smiles. The faces of Matsuda and Motohama flashed in his mind—he could only imagine the comatose state they'd be in tonight. They would all see. Everyone would see.
"Ah..." was all he could manage, a pathetic, breathy whimper.
Rias let out a soft, teasing laugh, "You see? You understand. I'm sure you'll get a huge power boost tonight, Issei-kun."
She reached out, not to touch him, but to give the front of her own cheerleading top a little tug, adjusting the already straining fabric. The gesture was small, but it sent a fresh wave of lust through the crowd and through Issei.
"Now, we'll be wearing this until the game," she said, her tone bright and businesslike, as if they hadn't just been discussing the imminent public sexual arousal of the entire male student body, "It's too bad you're not in any of our classes, Issei-kun. I guess the other boys will just have to enjoy us wearing these all day..."
She gave him one last, long look over her shoulder, a look that promised more, so much more, before she and Akeno turned and sauntered away, their hips swaying in perfect, devastating sync, which only caused Issei's cock to throb painfully. The crowd parted for them like the Red Sea, a flock of worshippers following their goddesses. The bell for first period rang, a distant, irrelevant clang.
Issei stood frozen, a statue in the middle of the walkway. The crowd slowly dispersed, boys and girls alike shaking their heads as if to clear them. He looked down. His pants were tented so prominently it was almost comical. He quickly grabbed his backpack, holding it in front of him like a shield as he scurried toward the school building.
He had no idea what was going to happen tonight. But he knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that it was going to drive him wild.
Scene Break
"Hey, Issei! Did you hear?! Apparently, Rias-sama and Akeno-sama were walking around in cheerleading uniforms today!" Matsuda asked Issei with a large grin.
"Grah, those damn lucky third years! We didn't get to see them at all!" Motohama sighed, slumping next to Issei as they sat in the crowded, very crowded rafters in the gymnasium. The bleachers were groaning under the weight of the student body.
Issei shifted, the hard wooden bench doing him no favors, as he couldn't bring himself to answer his friends. His cock was already a throbbing, insistent pressure against the zipper of his jeans. All day, he'd been tormented by snippets of conversation, by second-hand descriptions, by the lovestruck, dazed expressions of his male classmates. Now, he was about to see it for himself.
"Quiet down, you guys! They're coming out!" A student a few rows down yelled.
A hush fell over the gym, a wave of collective anticipation that was so thick it was almost audible. Then, the doors at the far end of the court swung open. The school's official cheerleading team trotted out, a line of spirited girls in white and blue uniforms. They did their routine, a series of high kicks and synchronized claps that, on any other day, would have been the center of attention.
Tonight, they were just the opening act.
And then, they appeared.
It was like watching two suns rise in the middle of a high school gym. Rias and Akeno stepped out from behind the team, and the entire world seemed to tilt on its axis. The garish fluorescent lights of the gym caught their outfits, making the yellow and white blaze with an almost holy light.
"Th-There they are..." Matsuda choked out, his hands flying up to grip the seat under him as if he needed the support. "My god... It's real! Their uniforms..."
Rias moved with a languid, confident grace that was completely at odds with the bouncy energy of the other cheerleaders. Her crimson hair was pulled back into a high, swaying ponytail, and every step she took seemed to be a deliberate act of seduction. The yellow top was a crime. It was painted on, the black "KA" of the Kuoh Academy emblem stretched so taut across her left breast that it looked like it was about to rip. Her magnificent rack, which he knew so intimately, was on display in a way that defied physics. The fabric barely contained them, pushing them up and together, creating a valley of cleavage so deep he felt he could fall into it and never be heard from again. With every slight movement, with every subtle sway of her hips, her breasts jiggled, a hypnotic, mesmerizing rhythm that had the entire male population of the gym in a trance.
"And Akeno-sama..." Motohama breathed, his glasses fogging over instantly. "The... the skirt..."
Akeno was a vision of pure, unadulterated sex. While Rias was a confident queen, Akeno was a playful, teasing goddess. She skipped ahead a few steps, her movements light and athletic, and the pleated yellow skirt flared up with each skip. The glimpse it offered of the high curve of her ass, of the toned muscle of her thighs, was a promise of more, a tease that was driving the crowd wild. Her own rack was a spectacle, the white top clinging to her curves, the dark nipples clearly visible as hard points against the thin fabric. She had a mischievous glint in her violet eyes, and she knew exactly what she was doing to every person in the room.
"They're... they're not even doing the right moves," Matsuda stammered, his eyes glued to Rias. "They're just... swaying. And it's better than the entire routine!"
It was true. Rias and Akeno weren't performing the sharp, precise movements of the other girls. They were just swaying their hips, raising their arms, arching their backs. Every move was designed to show off their bodies. When they raised their arms, the tops of their uniforms lifted, giving tantalizing glimpses of the undersides of their breasts. When they bent over to touch their toes—a move they both did with agonizing slowness—their skirts rode up, and a hundred boys in the audience sucked in a collective breath.
"Look at them! Those outfits are so small, I can see Akeno-sama's ass when she moves!!" Motohama whispered reverently, staring with wide eyes, "It's a miracle!"
Issei didn't need his glasses to see that. His vision, hyper-focused on the two of them, caught the clear, unmistakable flash of bare skin. He could feel his cock already twitching desperately.
The commentary from the rest of the male students was a constant, low-level roar around him, and a wave of lust that he was drowning in.
"Holy shit, look at the rack on Gremory-senpai!"
"I'd kill to see those tits bounce without that top on."
"Her ass... did you see her ass? I wanna feel it soooo badly..."
"Akeno-senpai's legs go on for days..."
"I'm so hard I think I'm gonna pass out."
"Dude, same. I can't help it... the two Great Onee-sama are really in cheerleading uniforms!"
Every word was a fresh knife twist of jealousy and arousal. These were his Buchou. His women. The objects of his most secret desires, the fuel for the power that now coursed through his veins. And they were performing for a crowd of hundreds, putting on a show for every person in the academy. His teeth clenched, a low growl building in his chest.
Rias and Akeno finished their little pre-game show, their pom-poms resting on their shoulders as they stood there, breathing lightly from the exertion. Their gazes swept across the crowd, then, as if guided by a homing beacon, their eyes found him, and they smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile. It wasn't a cheerful "go team" smile. It was a slow, synchronized, predatory smirk. It was the look of two lionesses who had just spotted their favorite zebra and were debating the best way to play with their food before they ate it.
Issei's breath hitched. His cock, already a throbbing beast of steel and denim, gave a violent lurch, a frantic, painful pulse against his zipper. The message was received, loud and clear. This was all for him. The crowd, the game, the uniforms—it was all to drive him crazy as the entire student body lusted after them.
Rias turned away from him, her ponytail swishing like a crimson whip. She raised a megaphone to her lips, looking out at the audience.
"Kuoh!" Her voice, amplified as it boomed through the gymnasium, "Are you ready to win?"
The crowd roared in response, a deafening wave of sound that vibrated through the wooden bleachers.
"Good," she purred into the megaphone, her voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone that still carried to every corner of the room. She let her gaze sweep over their own school's basketball team, a group of suddenly very nervous-looking boys. "Because Akeno and I... we have a special reward for the winning team."
Akeno stepped forward, a picture of innocent seduction. She batted her eyelashes, a small, coy smile playing on her lips. "That's right. A very... personal... reward. From the two of us. After the game. Just for you."
The gymnasium exploded. It wasn't a cheer. It was a collective, primal scream of purelust. The players on the Kuoh team, a collection of average athletes, suddenly looked like they'd been injected with steroids. Their eyes were wide, their chests puffed out, their jaws set with a sudden, desperate determination. They were no longer playing for school pride. They were playing for a night in heaven.
Issei felt a surge of something dark and bitter rise in his throat. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the bench. He should have been rooting for his school. He should have been cheering them on. But all he could think about was them. Them, with their hands on Rias. Them, seeing Akeno's smile up close. Them, getting the reward that should have been his.
The game started, and it was a massacre.
The Kuoh team, fueled by divine hormonal motivation, played like men possessed. They moved with a speed and ferocity that no one had ever seen from them. They stole the ball, they sank impossible three-pointers, they dribbled past their opponents like they were statues.
But that wasn't the real reason the other team was being obliterated. The real reason was standing on the sidelines, two smiling, swaying, impossibly sexy demons in yellow and white.
Every time the opposing team managed to get the ball and start moving down the court, a new form of torture would begin.
"Defense! Defense!" the other cheerleaders would chant, their voices high and enthusiastic.
Rias and Akeno would simply start to move.
It was subtle at first. A little extra sway in their hips. A slow, deliberate arch of their backs as they raised their pom-poms. But the effect was immediate. The opposing player with the ball would stumble. His eyes would dart to the sidelines, drawn by an irresistible force. His dribble would falter, the ball would roll away, and it was a turnover.
"GOOOOOO, KUUOOOOH!" Rias would cheer, jumping up and down. The motion was a catastrophic event for physics and for the sanity of every male in the room. Her breasts, barely contained by the flimsy top, bounced with a wild, liberating energy that defied gravity. They were two glorious, pale supernovas in a yellow top, each jump a fresh explosion of pure visual bliss. The crowd roared, not for the stolen ball, but for the bouncing.
"Come on, boys, you can do it!" Akeno would coo, bending forward to give a particular player a clear, uninterrupted view down her top as he tried to pass. The poor boy would stare, transfixed, for a crucial half-second before a Kuoh player would easily snatch the ball from his numb fingers.
It was a systematic deconstruction of athletic ability, fueled by raw, unfiltered desire. The opposing team wasn't just being beaten; they were being psychologically dismantled, one hard-on at a time. Their coach, a portly man, was no exception, as he had a visible hard-on as he tried shakily to call out encouragement to his team. Rias would give him a special wink, then, causing him to go quiet as he watched her bouncing breasts with wide eyes.
Issei watched it all through a haze of jealous agony. He saw the opposing players' faces, their expressions a mixture of youthful confusion and dawning, primal lust. He knew what they were feeling. He felt it too. But they were the enemy. The rival. The obstacle.
And yet, every failed pass, every fumbled dribble, every missed shot they made because of Rias and Akeno's… distraction… sent a forbidden thrill through him. A sick, twisted part of him was rooting for them. He was rooting for the team that was actively trying to win the right to touch his Buchou.
The score climbed to a humiliating 50-12. The other team was falling apart. They'd given up trying to score and were just trying to survive the game without publicly embarrassing themselves, which was a battle they were already losing.
Then, one of their players, a tall, lanky man with glasses, was fouled. He stood at the free-throw line, looking pale and exhausted. The man took a deep breath, bouncing the ball. He focused on the hoop, trying to block everything else out. He raised the ball to shoot.
"Hey, number seven!" Rias called out casually.
The boy froze, his head whipping around to the sidelines.
Rias stood there, one hand on her hip, a small, wicked smile on her face. With her other hand, she slowly, deliberately, reached down and hooked her thumb under the hem of her yellow top.
Issei's blood turned to ice. He knew what was coming. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, terrified drumbeat.
Rias pulled.
The top, already stretched to its limit, slid up with ease. First, it was the flat, pale expanse of her stomach. Then, the gentle curve of her ribcage. And then, in a single, breathtaking motion, she pulled it all the way up, exposing her breasts to the entire gymnasium.
They were perfect. Magnificent. Two creamy, round globes of flesh, crowned with rosy, hard nipples that stood at attention under the fluorescent lights. They were a vision, a masterpiece, a testament to everything pure and holy in the world of oppai.
For a split second, the entire gymnasium was silent. Then, there was chaos.
The boy at the free-throw line, number seven, his mind completely and utterly shattered, did the only thing he could. He threw the ball. He didn't aim. He didn't follow through. He just flung it forward. It flew with all the grace and accuracy of a wet paper bag, missing the entire backboard and clattering off the wall five feet to the left. It was possibly the worst airball Issei had ever seen.
The home crowd erupted, not in cheers for the miss, but in a primal, deafening roar of victory as they had seen the holy grail.
Rias, her job done, simply pulled her top back down, adjusting it with a casual, unconcerned shrug as if she'd just fixed a stray hair. She gave a little wave to the shell-shocked boy on the court, a final, fatal blow to his dignity as he stumbled back to play defense.
But the real chaos was happening in the stands.
Issei heard a choked, strangled gasp from beside him. He turned, and his eyes widened.
Matsuda was sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide and unseeing, staring straight ahead at Rias. His face was contorted in a mask of pure, agonized bliss. His right hand was jammed down the front of his own pants, moving in a frantic, jerky rhythm.
"M-Matsuda?!" Issei yelped, jumping back as if he'd been electrocuted.
But Matsuda wasn't the only one. As the roar of the crowd subsided, a new sound emerged. A wet, rhythmic slapping sound. It was faint at first, but it grew louder, more distinct. All around the gymnasium, boys were shifting in their seats, leaning forward, their bodies taut. Hands were in laps, hidden by backpacks or jackets. The air was thick with the scent of hormones and the desperate, frantic energy of a hundred barely-adult men losing all control at once.
Motohama's glasses were so fogged up that he was practically blind. He just stared in the general direction of the court, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, his own hand moving rhythmically in his pocket.
"Beautiful..." he whimpered, over and over again. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen..."
Issei felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He was in the epicenter of an outbreak of mass public masturbation. His own cock, a forgotten, throbbing entity in the chaos, gave a painful, desperate twitch. He was so hard it hurt. The sight of Rias's bare breasts, the memory of it seared into his retinas, combined with the sight of all these other men, all these rivals, all these strangers, pleasuring themselves to his Buchou...
It was a perfect storm of jealousy, shame, and a dark, forbidden arousal that was so powerful it felt like a physical force, crushing his chest.
He had to get out. He had to leave before he… before he…
He stood up, his movements clumsy, and turned to scramble away.
And that's when he saw her.
Rias was looking right at him.
Through the chaos, through the roaring crowd and the spectacle on the court, her piercing blue eyes had found him in the rafters. She was smiling. Not a happy smile, not a cheerful smile, but a slow, triumphant, predatory smirk that made his blood run cold and his cock leap in his pants.
She raised her empty hand to her chest, the pom-pom forgotten. Then, she made a fist. Slowly, deliberately, she began to move her hand up and down, in a crude, unmistakable gesture.
It was a command.
The last frayed thread of Issei's self-control snapped. The shame, the desire, the jealousy—it all coalesced into a single, overwhelming imperative. He sank back down onto the bench, his hand flying to the button of his jeans. He fumbled with the zipper, his fingers clumsy and trembling. He didn't even bother to be discreet. He didn't care about Matsuda beside him, or Motohama on the other side. He didn't care about the hundred other guys doing the exact same thing.
He yanked his pants open, his cock springing free, hard and weeping with need. He wrapped a trembling hand around it, the touch a bolt of pure lightning. He looked at Rias, and their eyes locked. She was still smirking, still making that gesture with her own hand, a silent, private conductor to this symphony of depravity.
He started to stroke.
It wasn't a gentle, exploratory motion. It was a frantic, desperate, punishing rhythm. He was chasing release, chasing oblivion. His whole world narrowed to the sight of Rias's face, the memory of her breasts, and the knowledge that all these other men were sharing this moment, this shame, this ecstasy with him.
Down on the court, the game stumbled to a finish. The Kuoh team, now playing on pure autopilot, scored a few more meaningless points. The final buzzer sounded, a shrill, irrelevant clang that no one really heard. The opposing team didn't even look disappointed. They just looked shell-shocked, their faces pale, their bodies slack. Some of them had their hands in their pockets too. They had been utterly, completely defeated.
Rias and Akeno didn't even wait for the cheerleading team to congratulate them. They stepped out onto the center of the court, the polished wood gleaming under the lights. They stood there, two golden goddesses in a sea of panting, spent bodies. The gym, which had been roaring just moments before, fell into a hushed, expectant silence.
Rias was handed a microphone by a dazed-looking faculty member. She brought it to her lips, her smile wide and triumphant.
"Thank you! Thank you for your incredible support tonight!" she announced, her voice echoing through the silent gym. "You were the best audience a team could ask for!"
A weak, scattered cheer came from the audience.
"And in recognition of your… enthusiasm," she continued, her eyes glittering with mischief, "Akeno and I have decided that you all deserve a little reward, too."
A murmur went through the crowd, a wave of renewed interest. The hands, which had slowed or stopped, began to move again with a fresh, desperate energy.
Rias looked at Akeno, who gave her a sly, knowing nod. Then, together, they turned their backs to the audience.
Issei's breath caught in his throat. He saw the two perfect asses, clad in the tight, pleated yellow fabric, presented to him like a sacrament. Slowly, they both reached down, and then pulled up their skirts as they showed their large, fat, juicy asses to the audience.
Rias looked over her shoulder, a final, wicked smirk on her face, and brought the microphone to her lips one last time.
"Cum."
The word was a gunshot in the silent gym.
It was the trigger. The final, definitive command.
Issei's body exploded. He let out a choked, strangled cry, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony and joy. His hips bucked violently, slamming up into his own fist as his cock erupted. A thick, hot jet of cum shot out, splattering onto the wooden bench in front of him, a sticky, white mess on the polished wood. Another spurt followed, then another, the pleasure so intense it was painful, a blinding white light that seared through his mind. He was dimly aware of Matsuda beside him, a loud, guttural groan escaping his lips as he slumped forward, a dark, damp patch rapidly spreading across the front of his pants. Motohama let out a high-pitched whimper, his glasses fogging completely as he shuddered, his own release soaking through the fabric of his trousers.
But it wasn't just them. It was everyone. The sound was a wave, a collective, animalistic release that washed over the entire gymnasium. A chorus of groans, gasps, and strangled cries filled the air. Dozens of boys slumped in their seats, their bodies going slack. The air, already thick with the scent of sweat and hormones, now grew heavy with the musky, salty smell of a hundred simultaneous orgasms. It was a mass, synchronized surrender, a debaucherous symphony conducted by two women in yellow skirts.
Issei stared, his vision hazy, his body still twitching with the aftershocks. He stared at the two perfect asses on display. Rias's, full and proud, the pale skin flawless. Akeno's, nearly as wide and just as fat, flexed slightly as she held the pose. They were works of art. And they had just caused the single largest mass orgasm in the history of the world.
He came back to himself slowly, the world filtering back in through a fog of post-orgasmic haze. He looked down at the mess on his pants, at the sticky white fluid on the bench around him, and then his eyes went wide as he saw his Sacred Gear was present again, with the gem glowing brightly.
"U-Uh, Issei? What's that..." Matsuda trailed off, still slightly hazy from his orgasm, as he looked at the guantlet. Issei froze, not sure what to say, but was saved as Rias simply snapped her fingers on the court. Matsuda's eyes were hazy for a second, as did everyone in the stands, as her magic shifted their thoughts to ensure both the guantlet and the mass-orgasm was considered normal to them.
"Now, for the winning teams' reward!" Rias continued, and Issei's eyes went wide as he turned back to the court, where she was giving him a mischievous grin, "We'll do it right here so you guys can enjoy it too!"
As Rias and Akeno both turned to the resting, wide-eyed, and lust-filled basketball team, Issei felt his cock twitch back to life again as it hardened. His breathing quickened as he realized what the two women were about to do in front of everyone.
But, even as shame filled him, he felt more excited than he ever had before.
Chapter End
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed. There are 5 more chapters on Subscribestar.adult/Nappar