Next day.
I was glued to my sugar-mama app, as usual. Amid my "like" spree, a message popped up. Smooth talk later, I'd locked in a meet—terms set.
He's older, sure, but my first guy okay with "ninmoku" (baby-making). Next one might not come along. Payment—call it "gratitude"—is solid: five meets in a month, 100k upfront. Not bad. I've got decent looks and a tight body, but this rate's standard—money's no struggle for guys here. Most on this app are just broke and desperate. Dawdle, and some chick'll snatch him.
I set the date, cash on the spot, all prepaid. He agreed—done. Time to book a salon, I thought—
"Fuyuhara-sensei, got a sec?"
"Gah!? M-Miyagi? W-What's up!?"
He'd crept up beside me, pamphlet from yesterday in hand. I stashed my phone—did he see? Bracing for a jab, I got nothing. But then he dropped a bigger bomb.
"Thanks for yesterday. I've got a question—something I don't get."
He wanted help with the sex-ed stuff. Sure, I'd puffed up in front of Yamazaki—"rely on me!"—but I didn't expect him to actually show. Yamazaki's my out—except he bolts when free, and he's long gone by now.
Ugh. Not thrilled. Miyagi's a gorgeous kid—hanging out's fine—but work means liability.
"Hm, yeah, okay. But Yamazaki-sensei's already left—tomorrow cool?"
"No, I'd hate to bug you again. You're fine, Fuyuhara-sensei."
I hinted at a delay; he brushed it off—wanted me. Huh. Am I… liked?
A cute boy leaning on me? Feels damn good. He's asking—listening won't spark trouble, right?
"I don't mind, but… doesn't it weird you out, talking sex stuff with a woman teacher?"
"Of course, it's not something I'd ask just anyone…"
Fair. Even with a teacher, spilling that to a woman's gotta sting.
"But I trust you won't blab. I respect how sharp you always are."
No doubt—I'm in. Why me? No clue, but I'm in. Unreal—a teen boy flashing that unguarded smile at a mid-twenties chick? My colleagues' vibes scream disbelief too. Teacher, woman—can't say no.
"Right! Leave it to me—ask anything!"
Not here, though. Yesterday's spot.
"Guidance room work?"
"Sure."
We walked from staff room to there—him, unfazed, about to be alone with a woman in a locked room. His trust stabs. I'm giddy too—usually, I can't gawk at his adorable face without a reason. Now I can soak it in. A boy who heals by existing? Angel status.
Could he snap a pic with me like he does with the class brats? Nah—too far. Yamazaki'd murder me. Moderation's key.
I unlocked the room. Here we go—after-school special with a pretty-boy high schooler, one-on-one!
That high lasted ten, maybe fifteen minutes.
His question blindsided me. That angelic face hit me with, "My sex drive's stronger than most—I don't know how to handle it."
I nodded on autopilot—fumu fumu—but my brain blanked. What's he saying? I fumbled responses, sorting his words in my head.
Standing, I turned away—hiding my rattled face. With a big, fake-adult sigh, I said, "Don't mess with me, kid."
Even as I spoke, I doubted it. Him, pranking a teacher? For what? No gain. A laugh? A hidden camera to screw me? Not his style—too tacky. I've got no read on him.
He pressed closer. "I wouldn't joke about this. I'm drowning in lust—seriously."
"Mmf, mmm…"
Stop saying "lust"! I'm drowning too—daily. A single woman's bedside stash screams it. My collection's impressive—wait, irrelevant.
This is too much. I don't want to brush off a kid who trusts me, but my restraint's fraying. A surly, average boy? No risk. This reckless beauty? I might snap. Already thinking, Touch him in the chaos, who'd know?
Teacher mode—snap out of it. Can't linger here. Pass the buck.
"For that, Yamazaki-sensei's better—health expert. I'm a woman—specific tips need a guy's take…"
The old man's dried up, probably—Miyagi, ask the solo-play guru.
"No, I've tried… stuff on my own. A lot."
"You have!? Uh—no, sorry, that's normal! Healthy young guy, totally natural!"
Slipped—covered it fast. No woman skips self-love; guys either. Looks don't dictate lust—his beauty's just flair, not a free pass. Freak out and scar him, you dumbass teacher?
He kept going. "Since transferring, it's gotten worse."
Hmm. New school, new stress—hormone spike? Mental care's Yamazaki's turf, but ditching him again feels cold. Play the wise adult—nod, listen, stay safe.
Then he detonated. "I like you, Sensei. Love at first sight."
Those stunning eyes pierced me, pulling me in. Brain—blank.
…Dream? Right now, real me's in the staff room, stamping pointless forms, crunching dumb numbers, dozing from burnout. A sweet dream like this? No harm.
"Sensei?"
His voice yanked me back. …Huh? What was I doing?
He'd asked something… homework trouble, right?
"Right, we were mid-talk. Homework's tough, yeah?"
"No, I was saying I'm drowning in lust because I fell for you."
Not a daydream.