"Mhm?" he looked up at her. "Oh. No. No. I’m..." he was lost in her gaze for a mont. "I’m fine, Mrs. Hoshizawa."
His voice was as steady as he could make it, but it still had a slight tremor caused by the emotional storm inside him.
Hana tilted her head, her cheeks squeezed by how happy and wide her smile was. "It’s so good to see you, Renji, I really never expected to miss you this much."
Renji’s brows raised. "Really? You missed ?"
"Of course," Hana replied, her voice soft and full of that motherly affection that had always made him feel seen, her smile widening to reveal perfect white teeth, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
So she missed him?
Hearing that made Renji feel even warr. Special.
"So how have you been?" she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder in a gesture that sent electricity through him.
"I’ve been okay, Mrs. Hoshizawa," he replied, his voice a little breathier than he intended, the crush making his words co out softer. "School’s been busy, but I managed. How about you? How was your weekend?"
"Oh, it was the usual," Hana said. "Taiga and I went for a business eting, and then we did the auctions for the paintings. Did you know that yours sold for over 10 million yen?"
"Woah. Really?"
"Yes," she chuckled. "That’s the highest we’ve ever sold a painting. What about you though? How was the weekend for you? Did anything fun happen?"
Renji felt himself smile. Sohow, it gave him joy to know that he had contributed to the growth of the center.
But about the weekend, he certainly couldn’t tell her everything. Especially not about his sex fiasco with Mrs Endo and Ms Katsura.
So he simply shrugged. "Mhm. It was just an ordinary weekend. Nothing too exciting, just read so comics and worked on my plans for the Art Competition."
"Oh. I heard about that. How’s it coming along?"
Renji nodded. "Pretty good I’ll say. Our Class President, Hitomi, is helping with organizing and stuff. I think I have a pretty good chance at winning."
She smiled warmly. "If it’s the Renji I know, then I’m certain that you’ll win the thing."
Renji couldn’t hold back his smile. "Thanks Mrs Hoshizawa."
The conversation flowed naturally after that, the two of them standing in the main room as volunteers moved around them, the air filled with the scent of fresh supplies and the sound of boxes being unpacked,
Hana’s affection wrapped around him like a blanket, making the crush he now had grow with every word, every smile, every little touch. They talked about a variety of things and when Hana laughed, her laughter was rich and genuine, making her tits bounce slightly under her blouse.
They were interrupted by Hiroshi, the old man who coordinated the Center, his gray hair disheveled, his glasses perched on the end of his nose.
He first approached them to inform Mrs Hoshizawa on so of the activities they had planned, and then he turned to Renji who stood there like a quiet soldier, one hand holding the handle of his backpack.
Hiroshi clapped Renji on the shoulder with a gnarled hand. "Renji!" he exclaid with a playful voice, "back from the weekend wars, eh? We missed you, boy. Excited to see what you paint this ti. Did Mrs Hoshizawa tell you? Your paintings broke the record for the Center. You are our jewel, kid!"
Renji smiled at the old man. "Hey, Hiroshi-san. Yup, she told and I’m excited to be back. Is there a the for the painting today?"
Hiroshi chuckled, his wrinkled face creasing with laughter, his voice full of grandfatherly affection. "Oh, whatever your heart desires, lad. Besides, with your help, we’ve finally been able to afford the new supplies. They just ca in yesterday! Fresh paints, brushes, canvases. Head on into the art hall and do as you wish."
Renji nodded, waving to Hana with a smile. She waved back, her eyes full of that motherly affection that made him lose all his composure.
"See you soon, Mrs. Hoshizawa."
"I’m excited to see what you do this ti!" she said to him.
As he turned and headed to the hall, Hana lowered her face, blushing red.
Renji was just about to enter the hall when a pressure in his bladder hit him like a brick wall.
He winced. When did he get so pressed? His balls were dry from the weekend but his bladder full as fuck.
Turning to Hana and Hiroshi who were looking at him with amused expressions, he excused himself with a quick "Restroom first," and hurried down the hallway.
The restroom was at the end of the hall, a small, single-occupancy space with white tile floors and walls that always slled faintly of lemon cleaner.
He pushed the door open, the hinges giving a soft squeak, and stepped inside.
But the mont he did that, he froze.
"Ah! Ah! Mhm... nghhh.... M—ah! Ah.."
Was that?
Renji’s heart skipped.
Those were moaning sounds in the air. At this point, he was very used to how they sounded. The soft, desperate, feminine whimpers that he had caused many milfs to do.
They echoed off the tiles, punctuated by wet, squelching noises of sothing going inside another wetter, squisher thing.
Now, Renji’s bladder was forgotten in the curiosity. He slowly tracked the sound, taking one cautious step after another.
The moans grew louder, more frantic, coming from behind the stall door at the far end, the one with the loose latch that always rattled.
He reached out, hand trembling slightly, and pushed the door open with a slow creak.
’What the...’
It was Miyu.
Miyu Ishikawa was there, squatting on the toilet seat like a feral animal, skirt bunched around her waist, thighs spread wide, fingers buried deep in her shaved pussy with ruthless thrusts, making wet schlick-schlick-schlick sounds.
A puddle of her own juices was spread on the tile below. In her other hand, clutched like a sacred relic, were his boxers.
The sa boxers he had given her back then, pressed to her nose as she inhaled deeply, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, moaning his na over and over like a prayer.
"Renji... ah, ah, ah! Yes, Renji! Ah. Please fuck ! Fuck like that. Just how you want! Renji!"
The door opened wider, and the creaking sound snapped her eyes open.
She saw him.
"Mrs. Ishikawa?!" Renji exclaid, voice cracking in disbelief, his bladder suddenly twice as urgent from the surprise.
She scrambled, skirt falling, boxers dropping to the wet floor with a splat, her fingers glistening with her own juices as she stared at him like a deer in headlights.
"Re—Renji?"
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