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Sayaka’s brain is malfunctioning.
That has to be it. Sitting beside Kirari, in the cool air of student council room, the last remaining streams of light for the day are shining in through the dusty window. It showcases Kirari's elegance in warm relief, every part of her radiating heat.
Sayaka loves her. That deep type of love and endless devotion that goes down to her bones, unfortunately turning her on so fucking much that it completely blanks her logical brain and puts her into some sort of caveman state where she can’t even think with words anymore. She becomes completely stupid, unable to communicate through any language that isn’t teasing, touch, taste.
To be more specific, the trouble occurs because Kirari can always tell when Sayaka gets this way and Kirari does nothing but indulge her. Even though they almost never have the time and even less the privacy to be slobbering all over one another – really, Sayaka’s the one doing the heavy lifting to that effect. She somewhat has the most self-control between the two of them and something about Kirari’s perfect pink pussy flattens it to paper. She just got a sip and hasn’t been satisfied since, can’t stop wanting and waiting till she can snag a moment to get her mouth all over Kirari, her hot, sweet core melting all over Sayaka’s tongue.
It’s as if her body moves on autopilot, vision collapsing into singular focus on Kirari and Kirari alone. She stands, pushing her chair further behind her to drop under the smooth and varnished wooden table, knees meeting the rough rug below.
“Again?”
Sayaka hums noncommittally, situating herself between Kirari’s legs, annoyingly obstructed by black tights. She runs a hand up the inner expanse of Kirari’s thigh, thumb brushing over the seam at her crotch to stop at Kirari’s hip. She peeks out from under the table, cheeks brushing against the rough fabric to meet Kirari’s lidded, imperial blue gaze.
“Too much?”
“Well, you did this just after our meeting this morning and again during lunch...” Kirari sucks in a breath, her cheeks getting pinker as she continues. Sayaka fights the certainly disastrous urge to surge upwards to kiss Kirar’s mouth before she further incriminates the both of them, even though no one is there to hear. "And now. You may have a problem.”
Kirari, leader of The Hundred Devouring Families, blushes deeper as she’s gone on, her parted lips soft and inviting, waiting for Sayaka’s response.
Sayaka chooses not to acknowledge she’s heard Kirari’s admonishment, instead hiking the burgundy coat and white button-down blouse up over Kirari's hips to get her fingers into the waistband of her skirt. She yanks and there’s a bang overhead – Kirari bracing herself on the table as Sayaka forces her to stand. Sayaka spares a moment to mourn the loss of the clear view of Kirari’s flushed, gorgeous face.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Kirari doesn’t answer but puts more of her weight on the table in an invitation for Sayaka to undress her, which she’d be a fool not to accept.
Sayaka then unzips Kirari’s skirt, hurriedly pulling them down to her ankles and holding it over Kirari’s shoes so that she can step out of both in one quick motion. Kirari shivers and huffs about it before sitting back on her president's chair, bare between the bottom of her blouse and the top of her black tights, those almost completely removed next.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Kirari demands. Sayaka is happy to oblige, pulling the chair roughly – wood scraping on rug – by its legs to sit Kirari down on it and bring her seated form right up against the table and herself.
She hauls Kirari’s thigh over her left shoulder, hand wrapped around it to fulfill her request, idly stroking the soft, bare skin. All day, she could kneel on a rugged floor, as long as it’s between Kirari’s legs.
Once again, Sayaka lifts Kirari's blouse, comfortable and bright. This time, she’s exposed completely, plush lips pressing against the surface they sit upon, thighs guiding the eye right there. Sayaka spends a moment transfixed, a wave of heat barreling down her own thighs before noticing the absence of sound above her.
Kirari pulls herself forward on her arms, tilting her hips to give Sayaka a better look. Her pussy is rosy and dark with closely trimmed hair that Sayaka knows is much softer than it might look. She pushes Kirari’s free leg out, gaze clinging as she breathes Kirari in. It’s simple - sweat, salt, Kirari's sweet warmth. It’s fucking devastating, too – addictive and heady. Seizes Sayaka by blood and bone, everything inherently animal about her begging to huff in the pheromones until she would know her by faint aroma alone. She tries to resist, but it's a losing battle.
The gap between the two of them closes slowly, until Sayaka’s exhales start making Kirari’s cunt tremble, warm breath on her clit. It’s so much better when Sayaka’s actually capable of drawing things out, enough sense left in her logical brain to pull back and kiss the tender skin of Kirari’s inner thigh just to hear her groan in frustration. Her heel nudges into Sayaka’s back, because usually she’d just drag her in by the hair, but she can’t reach properly for how she’s pressed right to the edge of the table.
“Sayakaaa…”
Kirari shudders when Sayaka’s mouth meets her pussy, lips parting over the squishy soft mound of it before her tongue slips out in a broad, flat stroke.
Sayaka has done this enough to have it down to a science, tongue moving gently and automatically to tease at Kirari’s velvety lips, dipping between them to just barely graze over her clit. She’s definitely done this to Kirari enough to have it elevated to an art form.
It’s hard to think of it as anything else when Kirari relaxes into Sayaka’s grip with a shaky, satisfied exhale, or when Kirari’s muscles twitch as Sayaka’s tongue meets her clit again with a bit more intention.
She dips down to press her mouth to Kirari’s entrance, running her tongue over plump lips to tempt them apart, tasting the heat of Kirari’s core. She thrusts her tongue inside, drawing out fluid from her gooey center, before licking long and deep. The wet of Sayaka’s spit mingles with Kirari’s juices, slick and salty, leaving Kirari’s cunt dripping.
It’s nice to be thoughtless, fuzzy headed and satisfied, mouth full and occupied. Sayaka savors the sounds of her tongue working against Kirari, of Kirari sighing and moaning over the hefty amount of paperwork left on the table. Arousal throbs under Sayaka’s skirt, in her veins, a sweet hazy heat between them. Kirari melts, leg hanging heavy over Sayaka’s shoulder, elbows landing on the wooden surface once more.
Sayaka reaches around Kirari’s thighs, hands slipping under her to squeeze her ass, pulling her even closer. Sayaka keeps her mouth moving, tongue flicking over Kirari’s clit. She slurps and licks and sucks until Kirari’s hips are twitching forward and wood slams down on the table. Her tongue dips down to feel Kirari’s pussy clench around it, attempting to draw her in as she pushes shallowly inside.
“Sayaka- hnn, yes,” Kirari breathes. She finds the space to wiggle her arm under the table, hand landing in Sayaka’s hair. Her fingers tighten and pull, loosening her ponytail and bringing Sayaka even closer to her, deeper into her center.
Kirari’s soft legs are both over Sayaka’s shoulders by now, clamping around her head to muffle her hearing, blocking out any and everything that isn’t Kirari shaking in her hands and throbbing on her tongue.
Sayaka knows Kirari’s close, her thighs tensing around Sayaka’s ears, more of her weight carried by Sayaka’s shoulders than the chair she’s still kind of sitting on. She holds Sayaka in place, hips jerking forward into Sayaka’s wide mouth. Sayaka pictures her face as she knows it is right before she cums, cute and so flushed, eyes pitched up towards the pinch of her brows, gasping- However, three knocks accompanied by the rattle of doorknob in its pane have Kirari's thighs clenching around Sayaka's head painfully and Sayaka freezing in place. Kirari's stuttering through something that Sayaka's folded too deep in Kirari's lower limbs to understand, voice a low, formless rumble. Wood scrapes against rug and Kirari’s muscles shift around Sayaka's skull.
Kirari speaks to someone presumably behind the door, easing the Sayaka lockdown enough to let her breathe again, to pull back and hear what's happening.
"-do for you, dear sister?" Kirari asks, cheery as ever.
Sayaka wonders if it's to Kirari's credit or Sayaka's detriment that there's little indication she was a mere moment away from cumming on Sayaka’s face, with aforementioned face still panting between her thighs.
"Hello. I'm here on business," clipped and curt in a modulated voice she's come to know. Ririka.
Kirari then grabs at Sayaka's hair again, trying to pull her away but Sayaka grits her teeth and doesn't budge, even when her follicles seem at risk. Sayaka doesn't leave things half-finished and Kirari certainly hasn't. Kirari’s hands are also tied by presumably not wanting to alert Ririka, which works heavily in Sayaka’s favor. She can’t get the leverage she needs without moving obviously.
“What kind of business?” Kirari asks, leaning forward over the table and Sayaka’s head, pushing at her with her foot.
“Terano is asking if you have decided on a date for the final gamble and wants us to go over restrictions beforehand.”
Sayaka grins into Kirari’s thigh, pressing her lips to soft skin while Kirari’s toes dig a bruise into her ribs. She carefully considers her unfinished meal, Kirari’s cunt still slick and twitching, and how there’s no way that Ririka can see her, completely hidden from view.
So, just maybe Sayaka’s running on the basest level of functioning. She is possibly growing bored of sitting quietly under the table with her body still extremely interested in getting Kirari off, her naked, shining cunt centimeters away from her nose. Now the added temptation of Ririka right there, the act of Kirari attempting to keep composure is so alluring like a lewd daydream. She might be holding the very last, dreadfully frayed thread of her restraint.
She makes a sound, awful and choked, not really remembering she’s supposed to be hidden and more importantly, quiet, before taking the path of least resistance to muffle it in Kirari’s cunt.
But once she’s there, she can’t fucking stop herself, barely has half of the thought that she probably shouldn’t lick and slurp and moan in bone deep satisfaction as Kirari struggles against her with only her knees and toes.
“You okay?” Ririka asks. Kirari freezes up, legs locking Sayaka in place and only serving to encourage her rampant, sloppy devouring.
“Ye-Yes!” Kirari says, entirely unconvincingly. “What, uh!” Sayaka forces her legs open further to drag her tongue down the slick slit, plunging it inside and savoring the gush of sweet, salty fluid. “Sorry,” Kirari giggles, breathless, “What type of-” A sharp inhale, “restrictions?”
There’s a beat of silence that Sayaka could only assume is Ririka leveling the deepest stare she can muster at a squirming Kirari. Kirari, whose restlessness is only serving to grind her clit into Sayaka’s tongue, might be going for the impression that she’s just shifting in her seat.
“For the gamble…” Ririka speaks slowly and softly.
“Right!” Kirari’s voice is too loud, too quick. Sayaka’s tongue flicks back over her swollen, sensitive clit. “Uhhhh- Of course.”
Another moment of silence from above; Sayaka making wet, sloppy sounds under the cover of the table.
Ririka continues, “I’m thinking of taking over your place for the final gamble.”
“That -em!- makes a lot of sense.” Kirari’s voice trembles as much as her thighs.
Sayaka is nearly lost in the give of Kirari’s flesh under her mouth, her own blazing arousal, but not so much as to miss the inconsistency. Kirari would sooner die than switch places with Ririka and miss out on the final event to maintain her presidency. But Kirari being so out of it that she can’t even fake the interest when she’s always such an attentive person, all due to what Sayaka’s doing to her is bone-meltingly hot. Sayaka groans and Kirari yelps, calves flexing against Sayaka’s back, pulling her in deeper.
“It doesn’t!” Ririka yells before her voice drops once more. “Kirari, seriously, what is going on? Is Sayaka in here?”
Hell yeah, Sayaka’s in here. Sayaka’s all up in here, while Kirari gives the breathiest, most half-hearted protest. Sayaka's lips seal around Kirari’s clit to suck firm and insistent and Kirari’s hips jerk against her mouth and Kirari’s whine cuts off whatever Ririka is saying that got swallowed up by Kirari’s thighs closing hard over Sayaka’s ears.
Kirari cums, long and jerking, with a burst of slick over Sayaka’s chin, pulsing on her tongue. The tension drains out of her body, legs heavy on Sayaka’s shoulders, draped over her. Sayaka's as blissed out as Kirari seems, accomplished with her satisfaction, pulled back so her lips just barely meet Kirari’s in a minute of recovery. Now her cunt aches for attention, to be freed and she reaches to unzip her skirt.
“Did you just?!”
Kirari jerks hard. “M-maybe we can talk about this another time!” she’s squeaking and Kirari’s sure she’s blushing furiously. "At home.”
“I- I… um okay!” Sayaka can’t see her, but she can imagine Ririka is blushing nearly ten-fold her twin, the modulator doing nothing to control the high pitch tune of her voice.
No sooner does she hear the door of the council office slam; silence begins to radiate into the room.
Fuck.
Strong fingers then wrap around Sayaka’s disheveled hair to pull her vertically, making her a slightly yelp at the pain coursing with pleasure when forced to stand up from below to meet Kirari’s gaze.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Sayaka doesn’t, because she’s not sorry in the slightest. Even the chill of the air on her wet face doesn’t cool her interest, doesn’t make her regret.
Kirari tsks and roughly flips the shorter girl to bend her body halfway onto the table. Sayaka's thighs get parted as she feels Kirari lean her entire body weight from behind her, her hands starting to grip her hips and move in a smooth, tantalizing motion.
Sayaka can't see her face, but she knows Kirari is grinning like mad when she trembles in anticipation at her next words.
"My turn."