In Class Fuck

Every move she made was precise.
Seal lips. Maintain suction. Coordinate hand-strokes.

Her mind, always sharp, worked furiously even as she bobbed her head, cheeks hollowing to accommodate the swollen girth stretching her jaw.

It was absurd, she thought distantly, that she hadn’t considered this sooner. Semen was a nutrient source—dense, compact, designed by nature for rapid cellular uptake. Why waste money and space on processed protein bars and cheap convenience store junk when her male classmates carried a ready, renewable source of fuel between their legs?

Her cheeks burned at the thought, but she **** herself to acknowledge the efficiency of it. Logical. Tactical. Even if the very idea of regularly blowing her classmates—of using them like biological vending machines—was pretty crass. In theory, it would be easy. The average male mind would offer no shortage of volunteers, and she would have a steady supply of fuel for her Quirk. But reality was harsher. Social consequences mattered. Her female peers would whisper, would judge. Reputation was a resource too, one she couldn’t squander.

Still... in an emergency situation, she thought grimly, it would be irresponsible not to take advantage of every available supply.

But with Mineta, she was safe. Sucking him off was normal. His position as a Node carrying Lifeline’s legacy shielded her from scorn. No one would question this act. No one would think her loose or shameful.

And besides—he needed it. His scrotum was a heavy, pendulous weight cradled between his stubby legs, full and over pressurized. His load wasn’t just a resource—it was a vessel of history, carrying Lifeline’s immortal cells, his will, his spirit. Each drop deserved to be preserved, protected, and passed on, fueling the next generation of heroes as surely as their own blood and breath.

Momo swallowed, pulling back slightly, thick strands of saliva bridging the gap from his tip to her lips. She readjusted her grip, double-fisting the shaft just to handle the size, and split her focus deliberately—one part managing her technique, the other flicking her gaze upward to study him.

Mineta’s face was a roadmap of pure depravity. Head thrown back, tongue lolling slightly from parted lips, eyes fluttering half-shut every time she made a particularly wet, loud slurping noise.

Noted.

He liked noise.
The sloppier, the better.

She adjusted immediately, exaggerating the suction, making sure each bob of her head ended with a vulgar slurp that echoed in the quiet hum of the classroom. Mineta shivered with pleasure every time. His hips gave tiny, instinctive jerks toward her mouth like he wanted to ejaculate.

Good. —she could finish her duty and return to class before falling too far behind.

My eyes rolled back in my head.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

There was Momo Yaoyorozu— the genius, the stuck-up beauty queen of U.A.—on her knees between my legs, slurping like a good little cum-slut.

Her lips were stretched wide, almost trembling with how much she was forcing herself to take. She couldn’t even get a third of me inside, but damn if she wasn’t trying—mouth sealed tight around the crown, tongue swirling desperately against the underside.

Her hands were working overtime.

One fist pumping along my shaft in slippery, twisting strokes, squeezing and milking everything her mouth couldn't reach. She’d slide it down to the base, gather up all the spit she was drooling down my cock, then glide it back up with a wet squelch.

And then there was her other hand—palm cradling my sack, fingers spread wide to hold the weight of it, cradling my balls like they were sacred treasures.

Every time I twitched, she adjusted—pacing herself.

Bob forward. Suction tighten. Hands squeeze. Bob back. Tongue flick. Thumbs press along the underside to tease the vein running up the shaft.

It wasn’t clumsy either.
It was methodical.
Like she’d studied for this. Like she’d taken notes on the best techniques for sucking huge dicks.

The rhythm built slowly, her mouth making soft, wet popping sounds as she bobbed faster, sucking harder, saliva spilling freely down my shaft, shining under the fluorescent lights.

And the best part?

She was looking right up at me the whole time.

Eyes wide, smart, focused. Watching my every reaction like she was testing herself against my pleasure, trying to ace the assignment.

I almost couldn’t meet her gaze.

It was too much.

"Holy shit, Momo..." I muttered, not even realizing I said it out loud.

She responded by tightening her lips around the tip and giving a little moan through her nose. A shiver ran through me like I'd been electrocuted.

"Y-you're... you're pretty fucking good at this..." I groaned, hips jerking up a little.

She bobbed faster, taking half an inch more, her cheeks hollowing with every pull.

I gripped the edge of the desk behind me to keep from grabbing her hair and just face-fucking her on the spot.

No. Gotta let her work. Gotta enjoy it.

Saliva dripped from her chin now, a fat droplet falling onto her blazer sleeve. She didn’t care.

Her whole world was narrowed down to my cock, her mouth, her hands, and her duty to make sure every drop stayed inside her.

It was obscene. It was perfect.

It was better than any perverted fantasy I'd ever had in my life.

And it was happening in class.

Aizawa was still lecturing about quake zones or something, but fuck if I could hear a word over the blood pounding in my ears.

I snapped.

I couldn’t help it.

Momo was blowing me like a pro—hell, like she was trying to earn extra credit—but fuck, it wasn’t enough.

I needed to be inside her.

I yanked her off my cock with a messy wet pop, and she gasped, saliva glistening on her lips, blinking up at me like she was snapping out of a trance.

She gasped, blinking up at me, dazed—stringy spit still hanging from her lip to my tip.

Didn’t care.

I grabbed her uniform blouse and ripped it open, sending buttons skittering across the floor.

"Mineta-kun—!" she flinched, hands twitching upward like she might try to cover herself—then froze, wide-eyed.

I didn't stop. I hooked my fingers under the cups of her bra and shoved it up, letting her massive, perfect tits drop free, jiggling under the fluorescent lights.

They bounced.
They swayed.
They practically begged me to do worse.

I grabbed her wrist and yanked her upright even as I hopped down, stumbling backwards between desks.

My desk scraped loudly.

She stumbled after—way taller, way heavier—but I didn’t care.

I was used to it.

Everyone towered over me. Always had.

I shoved my own chair sideways with my hip, knocking Momo’s desk back.

Didn’t matter.

I moved around and drove her backward, pushing against her hips, steering her like a shopping cart until her ass bumped Todoroki’s desk hard enough to make her gasp.

Todoroki, still sitting there like an ice sculpture, blinked once. His eyes darted down, right to where her heavy tits swung free and jiggled at every little movement.

Yeah, that’s right, bastard.

Enjoy the view.

She turned, half on instinct, trying to glance back.

“Mineta-kun—this is—I don’t think we’re supposed to—” she stammered.

It was crazy. She didn't like me.

Probably hated the thought of having sex with me.

Still didn’t stop her from letting me spin her around and bend her over Todoroki’s desk like a doll.

Momo folded so forward easily, palms slapping flat against Todoroki’s desk, back arching without hesitation.

Her long black hair spilled over her shoulder.

And then—God bless her—without a word, she reached back and pushed her own panties down her thighs, stepping one foot free but letting the fabric dangle neatly around the other ankle.

Ready.

I didn’t know why she wasn’t fighting harder.
Didn’t care.

Maybe she just couldn’t resist the Mineta magic.
Maybe she was secretly a closet slut for short-king studs.
Maybe she knew that once a girl got a taste, she never went back.

Grinning, I climbed onto her abandoned chair, standing high, cock bobbing proudly at the perfect angle.

Her skirt was flipped over her hips.
Her bare ass—round, creamy, perfect—pushed back toward me in offering.

I could see everything.
Pink folds, glistening.
And just above it—

That tight pink swirl of her butthole, twitching slightly every time she breathed.

Tiny tremors in her thighs as she steadied herself.

She didn’t say anything.

She just waited.

Body tense. Breath shaky.

Ready for what came next.

Grinning like a maniac, I grabbed my cock, angled it down.

Momo’s heart pounded wildly in her chest, the sudden rush of embarrassment and adrenaline dizzying her senses as she found herself bent awkwardly across Todoroki’s desk. Her skirt had been haphazardly flipped up, exposing her smooth, trembling thighs and the soft curves of her bare ass to the entire classroom. A faint blush burned across her cheeks, hotter and more intense than she had ever experienced.

She hadn’t expected this. Not today—not like this.

A moment ago she’d been meticulously and methodically servicing Mineta orally, fulfilling a duty she had rationalized easily enough. After all, Mineta was a Node, a rare carrier of Lifeline’s legacy. His semen represented something noble, something sacred—heroic potential itself. Pro Heroes had a responsibility to preserve that precious legacy, to ensure that none of those irreplaceable cells were wasted. Oral containment had felt logical, tactically efficient.

But vaginal containment…well, everyone knew that was even better. Deeper, safer, more symbolically profound. It was certainly not something she’d imagined doing—especially as a virgin—but the significance couldn’t be overstated.

As Mineta abruptly yanked her upright, tore open her blouse, and manhandled her over Todoroki’s desk, she’d been too stunned to object. How could she, when Mineta’s actions always seemed so utterly normal, so completely expected?

Still, a brief flash of panic had gripped her as her eyes briefly caught the confused yet blankly sympathetic gaze of Hikagaya, whose expression conveyed silent understanding, as if he was sorry this had fallen upon her but fully accepted it. She saw Ochaco’s face, round eyes wide with shock, her cheeks flushed scarlet—clearly caught between embarrassment and undeniable fascination. And worst of all, Kyoka—her best friend—whose eyes met hers with a complicated mix of concern, curiosity, and something else... perhaps envy, perhaps relief that it wasn’t her bent helplessly forward, about to be publicly deflowered.

She swallowed thickly, cheeks burning fiercely with humiliation, even as she dutifully reached back and hooked trembling fingers into the waistband of her panties. Carefully, she pushed them down just far enough to slip one foot free—leaving the fabric looped around her other ankle, so she could easily pull them back up when this was over. Her heart thundered relentlessly as the realization fully sank in: she was going to lose her virginity right here, right now. In front of everyone.

But she **** herself to steady her breathing, to think logically. This wasn’t merely sex. This was an act of preservation—a necessary, noble act. It was culturally expected that heroes save Mineta’s semen by absorbing it, keeping Lifeline’s heroic legacy alive. True, no one would explicitly require her to sacrifice her virginity to do it—but as class vice-president, wasn’t it her duty to uphold standards? To exceed expectations?

As Mineta climbed onto the chair behind her, aligning his impossibly thick, heavy cock with her exposed entrance, Momo’s thighs trembled. She braced herself, pressing her palms firmly against Todoroki’s open notebook. Her breasts flattened across the page, smudging the careful kanji he had meticulously written for today’s assignment.

“I—I’m so sorry, Todoroki-kun,” she whispered softly, voice trembling. “I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

Todoroki’s eyes flickered briefly to meet hers—his gaze characteristically stoic, a faint blush coloring his otherwise impassive face. He simply nodded once, quiet acceptance shining in his mismatched eyes, as if silently assuring her it was alright. She was grateful for his calmness, even as her pulse thundered chaotically.

Mineta pressed forward, his fat crown nudging gently but insistently against her untouched pussy, slick from her own arousal—something she found surprising and confusing in its own right. She tensed involuntarily, squeezing her eyes shut as the blunt, thick head of Mineta’s cock slowly breached her tight, virgin folds. A sharp, momentary sting gave way quickly to an overwhelming sense of fullness as he stretched her wider than she’d ever imagined possible.

She couldn’t help the breathy gasp that escaped her parted lips. Her cheeks burned impossibly hotter. Everyone was watching. Yukinoshita Yukino observed the scene with cold, narrowed eyes—no pity, no judgment, just silent calculation. Kaminari fidgeted at his desk, biting his lip hard, the bulge in his pants embarrassingly obvious despite his frantic attempts to hide it under his binder.

And Aizawa, from behind his podium, stared with the same weary, hollow-eyed professionalism he used for every classroom disaster—except for the faint, unmistakable tension in his jaw as he watched.

Mineta groaned softly behind her, gripping her hips firmly and pushing himself slowly deeper, inch by painstaking inch. Momo shuddered, body rocked gently against the desk by the steady press of his thrust. Her vision swam slightly. Her nipples tightened embarrassingly as they brushed against Todoroki’s assignment again and again, smudging the kanji further.

She wasn’t ready. How could she have been? Yet logic told her that this was necessary, a proper fulfillment of the heroic cultural norm she had grown up respecting. Taking Lifeline’s semen vaginally was simply more ethical, more responsible—a higher duty fulfilled. Even if it meant surrendering something personal, something intimate she had planned to reserve for a different time and place.

She whimpered softly, fingers gripping the desk tighter as Mineta’s hips pressed flush against her, filling her completely. Her walls spasmed involuntarily, squeezing around him in helpless, instinctive reaction. He felt impossibly large, impossibly full. But she couldn’t deny—there was a strange, humiliatingly delicious thrill to the way he stretched her open, a sense of deep-seated rightness that her logical mind accepted even as embarrassment flooded her system.

"See that, Yaoyorozu?" Mineta crowed breathlessly behind her, his small hands gripping her hips tightly. "Taking a dick this big… you're not gonna find better anywhere else!"
Momo said nothing.

She swallowed thickly, steadying her breath, her mind locking down into singular focus.
It didn’t matter what he said. It didn’t matter how crass or self-satisfied he sounded.

Her task was simple:
Extract Lifeline’s essence.
Preserve it.
Make sure not a single drop was wasted.

As Mineta slowly drew back, thick friction dragging through her stretched walls, Momo silently promised herself: she would endure. She would carry out this duty with dignity.

Because in the end, wasn’t that what heroes did?