Tick-Tock...
Tick-Tock...
Tick-Tock...
Renji stared at the clock that hung on the far wall.
It was a nice clock. Fancy with golden leaves framing the square shape.
The ti was twenty-two minutes past ten. Renji stayed still, waiting.
He wasn’t waiting for a particular ti or anything like that. He just couldn’t decide on when was the right ti to pull out the Note and scribble down Miyako’s na.
He could hear Haru playing a video ga from his room. Renji wondered if he had already told Kaito and the rest that he was in his house.
Sothing made him doubt it. Haru would obviously be too ashad to let them know his mother invited the broke nerd into their house.
Renji wondered what he would think when he finds out that his mother also invited Renji into her wet cop milf pussy.
A devious smile tore below his nose. He looked away from the clock for a minute and stared at the ceiling.
All those months of relentless bullying. Pushing him down the stairs, breaking his glasses and his pens, spilling his bag, shaming him for being a fan of the peak hentai trope: MILFS.
He was going to show them starting today. They were going to be characters in his own MILF hentai.
Where were they going to do the deed? Renji thought.
Here? The guest room’s bed?
It wasn’t bad. Renji sunk his palm inside to feel. It was pretty soft, the crisp white linens were also cool and smooth beneath him.
He turned to look at the headboard, it was padded and ready to be a silent witness to his depraved activities.
The dinner had been perfect. Miyako laughing at Kenoji’s dumb jokes, Haru seething across the table, the okonomiyaki rich and savory, the matcha ice cream cold and sweet.
He’d played the grateful, reford delinquent flawlessly: wide eyes, soft voice, just enough vulnerability to make Miyako’s maternal instincts flare.
She bought it all. The bail. The ride. The dinner. The sleepover. And now...
Renji looked at the clock.
10:36
Tick-Tock...
He let out a sigh and continued to wait, straining his ears for the sound of silence.
The fact was, with the ti duration he had before the magic of the Note weared off, Renji was almost playing with fire.
He had entered their house soti around past six, and with only five hours until the magic wore off, he had just very few minutes to write her na.
But Miyako was with her husband. Renji didn’t want her to suddenly start acting entranced mid-discussion.
So he was waiting, staring at the clock in a prayer that it doesn’t pass the ti before they finally retire to bed or separate.
Of course, if it was getting too late, he would write her na anyway.
But it’s better being safe.
Very soon though, the house finally went quiet. Renji heard the sound of switches flicking off and he saw the last light under the door vanished.
He heard the muffled voices of Miyako and Kenoji downstairs fading into the soft creak of floorboards as they headed to bed.
"Good night, Renji!" he heard Miyako’s voice say.
"Yes, Renji, goodnight," her husband, Kenoji, followed.
"Goodnight Mr and Mrs. Endo," Renji replied, then fell silent, waiting.
Next thing he heard was Haru’s door slamming once, hard. He was definitely very pissed.
After that though, there was nothing but silence.
The koi pond filter gurgled outside the window like a distant heartbeat, the only sound in the stillness of the wealthy modern ho.
The designer lamp on the nightstand bathed the room in a warm amber glow, casting long shadows across the polished hardwood floor, the small desk, the closed closet.
Renji suddenly noticed the sll of lavender from a diffuser on the shelf. It was Miyako’s touch, no doubt, to make guests feel "at ho."
He waited for a minute more. Still staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head, cock already half-hard in his jeans.
Tick-Tock...
Tick-Tock...
Tick-TOCK!
A bell rang in his mind and he reached for his backpack on the floor, the zipper half-open, the Milf Note peeking out like a predator waiting to strike.
Renji sat up quickly, almost desperately, the mattress dipping under his weight, and pulled the backpack onto the bed.
The Note was warm to the touch.
Renji had noticed that soti ago. Maybe it was the magic, if that was what gave this book his power.
He flipped it open under the lamp, the leather creaking softly, the blank page glowing faintly in the light. His pulse quickened.
He pulled out his ballpen and clicked. Then began to scribble down the na, the ink glinting black and wet as he wrote her na in slow, careful strokes, each letter a claim, a conquest, a revenge:
Miyako Endo, Commissioner’s daughter, Haru’s mom.
Again, that thrill visited him.
It thumped in his heart, rumbled in his bones and reverberated through his skin. The power of his pen and the power of the Note; knowing those words he wrote could literally twist fate.
It was exhilarating!
Every ti he did it!
He could swear that it was even more exciting than having sex with the written na.
He clicked the pen again.
There wasn’t anything more to write. The Note knew. It always did.
The rest was up to this magical collection of papers. However it did it, Renji waited for it to happen. For Miyako’s desire for him to begin.
The ink sank into the page like blood into soil. He thought he felt the book pulse once, hard, in his hands, a wave of heat rolling up his arm and into his chest.
He snapped it shut, exhaling sharply, a dark grin spreading across his face.
Done. She’s mine.
He tucked the Note back into the backpack, zipping it with care, and leaned back against the headboard, eyes on the door.
The wait began.
Minutes stretched. Five. Ten. Fifteen.
Renji wondered what was happening. How she was feeling. Was she confused? Was she touching herself? Was she already on her way down?
He strained his ears to hear.
The house was tomb-silent, the kind of quiet that pressed in from all sides.
Renji’s impatient mind raced with more images: Miyako in her bedroom down the hall, Kenoji snoring beside her, her body suddenly burning, thighs clenching under the sheets, nipples hard, pussy aching with a need she couldn’t explain.
Co on... feel it. Need it. Need .
His cock throbbed fully now, straining against his jeans, but he didn’t touch it. Not yet. Let her co first.
He glanced at the clock: 10:57 PM.
What if he miscalculated?
What if the spell failed because five hours had already passed. If that was the case, then he had no one else but himself to bla.
Fuck!
It might actually be the case. He might have ssed this entire thing up! All of this was for nothing!
For freaking noth—
Knock-knock.
Renji instantly froze, and glanced at the door. He raised a brow.
Well, hold your horses....
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