Miss Miarora works around her husband's presence

"So this is the boy I've been hearing about," Ilvar Miarora says, sipping his usual post-work glass of wine. He's sitting by the hearth, inspecting Rexus as his wife brings him inside. "You're fatter than I expected!"

Before the boy can respond, Alia steps forward. "Ilvar! He's not fat," she explains, glaring at her husband. "Humans just have thicker limbs than we do. He's quite muscular, actually--"

"It's okay, Miss," Rex cuts in, patting his teacher's bare shoulder. She's still wearing the silky green bikini, having wiped (or licked) almost all of the cumstains off before returning from the school. Having been desensitized by Rex's involuntarily-channeled magic, Ilvar doesn't find the outfit inappropriate in the least. "I know that I'm different. I just hope that Mr. Miarora doesn't mind inviting someone of my kind into his home."

Alia looks shocked, even outraged, at the implication that her favorite pupil is lesser than an elf. "Rexus, that's--"

"Ridiculous, of course," Ilvar finishes for her, before taking another sip of wine. "Of course you're welcome. Will you two be studying after supper, or before?"

Alia looks to Rex for a reply. "Both, I think," he says, beginning to climb the stairs. "Elven grammar is so very difficult, and I'd like to get deep into it tonight. If it's not too much trouble, could you bring something up for us?"

"Hmm?" Ilvar looks confused. "Well, uh, Alia usually does the cooking--"

"Thank you, Dear," the scantily-clad teacher says. "I owe you. Remember to knock first, okay? We might be in the middle of something." With that she prances up the stairs, exposed ass bouncing as she eagerly follows her student.

An hour later, Ilvar trudges up the stairs carrying two plates. He's not much of a cook, but he's managed to bake some pork and root vegetables. When he reaches the door to his and Alia's bedroom, he hears a rapid thumping sound within.

"Alia? Supper is ready," he calls out. The thumping immediately ceases, and after a few seconds of silence the door cracks open.

"H-hello," Alia says, peeking out. Her face is glistening with sweat, but something else as well: streaks of thick white liquid are splattered across her flushed features, from her forehead to her dripping chin. Spying the plates, she opens the door a little further to grab them. She's still wearing the bikini, though it isn't on properly; one nipple is half-exposed. "Oh, that smells delicious! Thank you so much, Dear--"

"Wh-what," Ilvar stammers, before she can close the door. "What... What's that on your face?"

"Hmm? Oh. It's, um... A salve, made from special herbs. It's supposed to smooth the skin." She shrugs awkwardly. "Rexus had his mother make it for me. It's an old human recipe."

"I thought the boy's mother was--" Before he can finish, Alia shuts the door in her husband's face.

Ilvar is left standing outside the bedroom, slightly bewildered. An image hangs in his mind, something he thinks he saw in the darkness before the door closed. An image of something long, straight, and pinkish, sticking out from beneath the bedsheets. For a split-second, part of him realizes what it was... But soon the fog of the spell washes over him, and he rationalizes it as a trick of the light. After all, Alia would never allow a student to recline on their marital bed. Even if she did, Rexus wouldn't be naked. Even if he was, no mere boy could have a member half that large. It was impossible.

Impossible.

So when he hears a gasp and a deep sigh from within the bedroom, his mind doesn't jump to "my wife just sat down on that human boy's massive cock, and was filled up like never before." Instead, he smiles and compliments himself on his cooking skills before turning on his heel and heading downstairs.

Still, Ilvar Miarora is far from stupid, and the Avarian spell's influence has only partially taken hold of his mind. A knot grows in his chest as he sits in front of the fire, trying to read his book while the thump, thump, thump of Rex's "tutoring" pounds the floor above him. When a small cloud of dust falls from the rafters and onto the pages of his novel, he growls quietly to himself: what are they DOING up there? He already knows the answer on some level, but is spared the full weight of the revelation.

As evening turns to night, the pounding of flesh on bed on floor slows, then stops entirely. Alia and Rex emerge from the stairwell, disheveled in appearance but obviously happy (and clean of white streaks, this time). They both nod to Ilvar, too tired to speak. One of the elven woman's breasts is entirely exposed, and her husband looks on as Rex spots the problem and adjusts the fit of her bikini... Taking a few extra seconds to feel up her body as he does so.

"How was your session?" Ilvar doesn't sound curious: he asked the question mainly so that they wouldn't forget about his presence. He can tell that the two only have eyes for each other, ignoring all else... To leave them to their own devices is to risk observing something that he can't rationalize away.

"Productive," Rex replies simply, placing a hand on Alia's waist and guiding her gently towards the front hall. "Thanks again for letting me use your things."

Ilvar doesn't remember being asked or giving any permission, but he smiles graciously. "Of course, what's mine is yours. What's a pot of ink or some paper, hmm?"

"Oh, don't worry, Sir... We didn't use any paper." With that Rex walks away from the elven man, taking his wife with him.

"Alia? Where are you going?"

"I just need her to polish off one last thing," Rex replies from around the corner. "If that's not too much trouble, Miss?

"Not at all! What do you--" There's a clunk as Miss Miarora's knees hit the floor, then a wet smack followed by a slurp. "...Mmmph..."

Ilvar turns back to his book, blushing fiercely. He spends the next several minutes reading the same line over and over again, until finally the front door clicks shut. He sighs with relief when his wife re-emerges, without her pupil... Though she does have another trickle of that mysterious white substance running down her chin.

"I think I'll turn in," she says, smiling wistfully. "Will you be staying up?"

"Hmph." Ilvar looks back down at his book.

"Dear?"

"Yes, yes. I'll be up after this chapter," he mumbles.

Alia shifts her weight from one foot to the other nervously. "And how long will that be?"

"Why?" He stares at her for a moment, before giving an exasperated sigh."It's fairly long."

"Good, good... I mean, g-goodnight." With that Alia Miarora scuttles up the stairs, determined to fit in one more orgasm before her husband comes to bed.

Just as she has countless times in the past week, she spreads her legs and wets her fingers with her mouth. As her tongue swirls, she takes a moment to savor the lingering taste of strong, rich, perfect human seed... And then she goes to work.