My hand was shaking, honestly, it was kind of pathetic. I couldn't tell if I was terrified or just riding the high of finally touching something I'd dreamed about since yesterday, and now it was right there, almost close enough to grab.
I leaned in, ready, but Hasegawa moved faster. Her hand locked around my wrist like a steel trap. For someone her age, she was shockingly strong. She didn't just stop me, she pinned me, her fingers digging in. Her eyes weren't the usual teacher's. They looked hungry. Cold. She was calling the shots now.
"Not so fast, Young man" she growled, her voice low and thick. It didn't sound like an order. More like a dare. "Ten seconds. That's all you get. Understand?"
"I understand," I barely managed. My throat was so dry it hurt.
She let go, but her nails scraped along my skin for a second longer—just to remind me who was in charge. Her blouse was a disaster, hanging open to reveal a bra that honestly looked like it was losing the fight. Her skin was flushed, her chest rising and falling way too fast. The air in the office felt heavy, like breathing in soup.
When I finally touched her, my brain just shorted out. I'd expected her to feel soft, maybe even a little saggy. She wasn't some young girl anymore. But I was dead wrong. She was solid, heavy, so firm that my hands felt small and clumsy against her. All I could feel was heat, like her skin was burning. I was completely wrong about all this. It was beyond my imagination. How old is she? I believe this was not a boob that someone at her age had.
Hasegawa's head snapped back and she gasped, sharp and wet. Her eyes rolled back as I squeezed, feeling the weight and the shape of her. She was soft, but not loose. Packed tight. My fingers found something hard underneath the lace, pushing back against my palm. What was that? Her nipple?
"Mmn… S-slow down…" Her voice was barely a whisper now. She was arching into my hands, desperate for more, even though she'd told me to stop. I was losing myself in it, everything else fading, when the world just blew apart.
BAMP!
Suddenly the door went crazy. The door didn't just open, it smashed into the wall so loud it sounded like a traffic crash went off. Sena stood in the doorway, staring like she'd just seen her own ghost. All that cocky, queen-of-the-school attitude vanished. Her face turned so red I thought she'd spring a leak. She stared at my hands, still buried in her teacher's chest, mouth flapping open and shut like a fish out of water.
"W-what the hell…?" she squeaked, her voice tiny. Then panic took over. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt! Carry on! Bye!"
She slammed the door, her shoes clattering away down the hallway like she was running for her life.
"Alright, that's… enough." Hasegawa's voice dropped like a disappointment on my head. The whole moment shattered. She stepped back so fast I almost fell, grabbing for her blouse, covering herself up. The red on her neck was still there, but her face had snapped back to Sensei mode.
"Gather your things now. Go to class. Don't ever tell anyone about this. This never happened. Am I clear?"
"I… yeah. Got it."
I scrambled out of there, my palms still tingling with the ghost-weight of her. The hallway air felt freezing.
When I walked into the classroom, everything went dead quiet like someone had just killed the lights. Sena was hunched over Kato's desk, whispering so fast her hands blurred. The second she saw me, she froze, her eyes bulged as if they were about to pop out. Then she scurried back to her seat like her chair was on fire.
Kato didn't say a thing, just watched me, sharp and silent. She knew something was up.
Then the door creaked open. Hasegawa came in, stiff as a statue. Every button on her blouse was magically perfect, never knew that her shirt could be buttoned up, considering that it had been open since early this morning. She didn't look at me. Didn't look at anyone. She just slammed a stack of books onto her desk. Thud.
Given my position as her assistant, I immediately realized I had to take the initiative. "Sensei, let me help—"
"No need." She shut me down, voice sharp.
She stood there, radiating don't-even-think-about-it energy, eyes sweeping the room like she was hunting for someone to punish. "Page 142. Historical economic trends. If I see one head down, you're out."
Kato bent down, bracing herself on one arm on the chair so she could whisper as close to me as possible, her voice a thin thread in my ear. "What happened to Sensei? And you? You look like you've been through a war."
I stared at the textbook, still seeing Hasegawa's bra every time I blinked. "It's nothing," I muttered, my voice shaking. "Just a weird morning."
Kato didn't buy it, not for a second. But she let it go. At least for now.