"Mmnah! Stop! Slow down…, Romi… Ah!"
"Sen-sensei… keep your voice down. We are being too loud. People might hear us."
"Ahn~! Ohhh… Nn... nnh... P-please...!!" Her back arched like a bow, her eyes blown wide with that messy mix of 'don't stop' and 'we're going to get caught.' "You're being too rough down there! Ahhh!"
"I'm trying, okay? I'm trying!"
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound hit like a pop of balloon by needles. Hasegawa's eyes snapped open, the flush on her face turning from heat to pure, unadulterated terror. She looked like she was about to vomit from the adrenaline.
"Sensei? It's Sena. I finished that assignment. Can I come in?"
"No!" Hasegawa shrieked, her voice became hoarse and wet, as if she had the flu. "Don't—Ahh! Just a second! Stay out!"
Goddammit, Sena. Of all the times, Why do you always come at the wrong one?
I didn't stop, and Hasegawa couldn't help it; the sounds coming out of her were getting louder, wetter, filling the cramped office while Sena kept thudding on the door like a persistent headache.
"Sensei? You okay? You sound... sus."
Hasegawa went pale. She slammed a hand over her own mouth, her eyes pleading with me as her other hand clamped onto my arm. Her nails dug deep into my skin—she was shaking so hard I thought she'd snap.
"Everything's... fine! We're just... working! Mmn~... Ahhn! Romi, quit it, you're doing too much!"
"Argh! My hair! Sensei, you're scalping me!"
"I have nothing else to grab! Just hold on!"
"Don't pull so hard! I'm almost—"
Everything was falling apart. Outside, Sena was hovering; inside, Hasegawa was a sobbing, moaning wreck. It felt like the whole world was about to cave in.
Okay, how did we end up in this situation? Let's rewind about twenty minutes. It started when I locked myself in the office with a sensei.
After the door clicked shut. In that tiny office, the silence pressed in, thick and heavy. I dropped a stack of files on Sensei's desk, and the jolt almost sent her water glass flying. I caught it at the last second, my fingers hovering over the rim.
Hasegawa watched me, her eyes softening just a bit. She leaned in to adjust the glass herself, her fingers brushing mine.
"Careful," she said, and there was a hint of a smile in her voice. "I've got enough chaos on my plate right now."
She straightened up, shoved her glasses higher, trying to look all business. "I need help sorting and filing these quizzes and assignments. There are also some notes I've prepared for the next lesson that need to be organized into folders. It's mundane work, but it's necessary." Her fingers drummed an anxious little beat on the desk. ""Let's forget what happened before and keep this... professional. Understood?"
"Yeah. Got it," I said.
I started shuffling through the papers, but the office was an oven. Summer heat pressed in, thick enough to choke on. Hasegawa shifted in her seat, crossing her legs. Her skirt rode up higher, just enough to show a strip of black lace that made my mouth go dry. She fanned herself with one hand, her eyes fixed on me.
"It's suffocating in here, isn't it?" she whispered.
"Yeah. It's… hot." My hands shook a little. Sweat glued my shirt to my back. I tried to focus on the paperwork, but my eyes kept drifting to her legs, the way her blouse clung to her curves, the dark patches of sweat under her arms.
"You okay, Romi? You look… flustered."
She was smirking. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her hand went to her collar, popping another button "for the heat."
"I'm fine. Just the weather," I lied, swiping at my forehead. Suddenly she stood up, closing the distance between us. She grabbed her water glass, took a slow sip, and held it out to me.
"You look like you're about to pass out. Here. Have a sip."
Her lipstick was on the rim. The scent of her—sweat and expensive perfume—hit me hard. "Uhh… I'm good, Sensei. Thanks for the offer but I should focus."
"Don't be dramatic. I don't want to seem like I'm enslaving you here. Drink it."
"Well, if you insist."
I took the glass and drained it, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. When I handed it back, her lipstick had smeared onto my own mouth. When I almost drank all of her water, I stopped. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to drink all of your water." Hasegawa laughed, real and unguarded.
"Ara, ara~… you drank that like it was poison. You really were dying, huh?"
She brought her body closer like a snake, writhing and slithering, brushed a drop of water from the corner of my lip. Her fingers lingered, and the air between us crackled. My eyes meet hers, and neither of us looks away. There's this silent dare hanging between us, and the space feels tighter by the second. Hasegawa's cheeks suddenly flare red. She looks away fast and takes a quick step back, like the closeness just caught her off guard.
She just stands there, back to me, frozen for a second. Her hands fuss with her blouse, trying to cool off, but honestly, all it does is show more skin. When she finally speaks, her voice is a little shaky, she's trying to sound brisk, but there's something softer there too.
"It's really hot today, isn't it? We should, um, get back to work. These files aren't going to sort themselves."
Her shoulders stay tense, and the light catches on the bare skin just below her dress, making the flush on her skin even more obvious. She still doesn't turn around. The room goes quiet, and it feels like the air's grown heavy.
"Actually, I have some ready to archive now."
Hasegawa glances over her shoulder, trying to put her professional face back on, though her cheeks are still red. She adjusts her glasses and makes her voice steady. "Alright. Bring them here, and we'll file them together."
I handed her the archive books. She took them, her hands trembling as she stuffed them into a desk drawer. She slammed it shut.
"Kyaa!"
Her blouse got caught deep in the drawer, and when she tried to stand, it yanked her back down. She tugs at her blouse—at first, just a gentle pull, but then she starts yanking harder. Color rises in her cheeks, somewhere between frustration and embarrassment. The more she struggles, the more the fabric stretches, and a bit more of her stomach shows.
"Sensei, are you okay?"
"This... this is ridiculous. Just—give me a second."
She sounds tense. Won't meet my eyes, either. She keeps fiddling with the drawer, trying to unlock it or just free the blouse, but it's not working.
"Oh wow, you're really stuck. Let me help." I reach for the drawer, but it doesn't budge. My shoulder brushes her chest, and I feel her breasts move against me.
"Ahh—! C-careful… you're, uh, pulling too hard."
Her voice shakes. She bites her lip, looking like she's barely holding it together. We're way too close, between the stuffy air and the awkward tension, every little movement feels huge. For a second our eyes meet, and I catch something in her look, embarrassment, but also something else, then she glances away. Her breath is warm on my neck.
"Damn, this thing's really stuck. We need to pull your blouse first."
I give her blouse a pull hard like an ox. Her chest bounces, and she keeps making these little noises, almost like we're up to something we shouldn't be.
And that's how we ended up in this predicament because of this stupid drawer. I didn't know why she moaned like that, even though her clothes were merely just stuck in the drawer.
"Sensei, we need to stop. Sena's here, and we can't keep her waiting like this."
"Okay. So, what's the plan?"
"First, you need to stop moaning. This is really getting weird. And second, I really don't think we can pull your blouse off without ruining it."
"I... I get it. Just do what you have to. We can't let her get suspicious. Hurry."
"Right, I'm coming!" I yank her blouse as hard as I can, and she pulls up at the same time. Suddenly, the fabric rips, loud, and Hasegawa screams as if her throat was being choked by a snakefruit seed.
"Ahhh!"
The sound of tearing fabric fills the room, and Hasegawa's moan echoes right after. We both stumble back and crash into the desk. Everything goes flying, papers, books, and a pitcher of water tips over, spilling across the desk and soaking us both.
Hasegawa gasps. Her blouse is ripped and sticking to her skin, her bra almost completely visible through the wet fabric. She's breathing hard, face flushed, still a little stunned. I look down and realize my own pants are soaked, water dripping onto the floor, and I can't help shivering.
The room's a mess—papers everywhere, water puddling up, and we both look like we've been through a storm. Sena's knocking gets louder. She sounds worried.
"Romi?" Sena's voice was right outside the door. "Can you open up now?"
"Yeah… just a second."
I swung the door open. Sena stood there, clutching her papers. Her eyes dart from my soaked pants to Hasegawa, slumped on the floor, breathless, her blouse torn and clinging to her damp skin. Sena's face instantly burns crimson as her mind races to piece together what she's witnessing.
"I—I'll just… leave these here! Bye!"
She shoved the papers at me, spun, and tore down the hall like she was running for her life.