Chapter 3: The Service Under the Table

The office clock struck ten. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds, casting neat bands of light across the wooden floor. Fine dust motes swirled slowly in the beams of light. The professor sat behind his desk, a recent report laid out before him—a record of suspicious activity in the vicinity of Trinity College.

His fingers swiped across the tablet screen, scrolling through the messages. His brow furrowed slightly. These reports indicated that at least five students had witnessed "suspicious figures in black suits" near Trinity College in the past week. The sightings all occurred at night, and the descriptions were vague, but they had one thing in common—none of the individuals had an aura.

In Kivotos, those without an aura are extremely rare. Aside from the teacher himself, there are only…

The knocking interrupted his thoughts.

"Please come in," the teacher said without looking up.

The door opened, and Saintia entered. Today she was wearing her signature white robe, her long, light golden hair almost touching the ground, the ends adorned with white ribbons decorated with flowers. Her fox ears twitched slightly atop her head, and a golden halo—shaped like a Christian cross—floated above her, radiating a soft glow.

"Good morning, teacher." Saintia's voice was soft, with that unique philosophical tone. "I hope I haven't disturbed your work."

"No, that's not true." The teacher put down the tablet and gestured for her to sit down. "Is there something you need, Saintia?"

Saintia sat down in the chair opposite the teacher, her hands folded on her knees. Her movements were graceful and composed, but the teacher noticed a hint of worry in her eyes.

“It’s about last night’s tea party,” Saintia said, her fox ears drooping slightly. “Nagisa stayed behind by herself after it was over. I was going to wait for her to go back together, but she said she wanted to tidy up the tea room a bit more. But this morning, Mika told me that when she went to look for Nagisa, she found that no one was in Nagisa’s dorm room.”

The teacher's eyes flickered slightly, but her expression remained calm: "She probably just got up early to take care of some things."

“Maybe,” Saintia said softly, but her tone was uncertain. “But Nagisa usually tells me where she is before she leaves. And… when I left last night, I sensed something… unusual. Like something was watching from the shadows.”

She raised her head, her gradient eyes—a gradient from pink to yellow—looking directly at the teacher.

"Teacher, have you noticed anything unusual lately? About Nagisa, or about Trinity?"

Just then, the teacher sensed something moving under the table.

His leg was lightly touched. Then, a hand—a soft, warm hand—was placed on his thigh. The fingers slid slowly upwards along the inside of his thigh, and he could clearly feel every subtle movement through the fabric of his trousers.

The teacher's body stiffened slightly, but his face remained expressionless. He looked at Saintia and asked calmly, "Abnormal? What exactly do you mean?"

“I can’t quite explain it either.” Saintia tilted her head slightly, her fox ears twitching gently with the movement. “It’s like… something has changed. The ‘smell’ in the air is different. You know, I can see fragments of the future, though those fragments are often blurry. But lately, the fragments I’ve seen about Nagisa… are all very strange.”

The hand under the table had already moved to the teacher's crotch. The fingers deftly unbuckled the belt, then the zipper of the trousers. The sound of the zipper being slowly pulled down was very faint, but still clearly audible in the quiet office.

Saintia's ears twitched: "Teacher, did you hear anything?"

"It might be the sound of the air conditioner," the teacher said, trying to keep her voice steady. "What did you see in the scene about Nagisa?"

“I saw her… smiling,” Saintia said, her brow furrowing slightly. “But the smile was strange. It wasn’t her usual gentle, reserved smile, but… more flamboyant, more… smug. And in that scene, she was wearing her tea party attire, but the clothes were disheveled, the buttons weren’t fastened, and her hair was messy.”

A hand had slipped inside the teacher's trousers from under the table. Warm fingers touched the teacher's penis directly. The fingers were nimble, first gently grasping the semi-erect shaft, then slowly sliding up and down. The fingertips circled the glans, collecting the clear fluid seeping from the tip, then using that fluid as lubricant to make the movement smoother.

The teacher took a deep breath, trying to control his breathing. He could feel Saintia's gaze fixed on him; those eyes that could see into the future—had they already sensed something?

"Anything else?" the teacher asked, his voice slightly lower than before.

“And…” Saintia pondered, her fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of her robe, “In that scene, Nagisa was speaking. But what she said… didn’t sound like something she would say. She said, ‘This is all very interesting,’ and ‘The teacher is much more enthusiastic than I imagined.’ These words are completely unlike Nagisa’s style.”

The movements under the table quickened. The hand now had complete control of the rhythm, stroking the fully erect penis up and down. The movements were sometimes slow, sometimes rapid, sometimes a firm grip, sometimes a gentle caress. The thumb would occasionally glide across the sensitive area of ​​the glans, sending waves of electric-like pleasure through the air.

What the teacher found even more unbearable was that he felt something warm and moist pressed against the side of his penis.

That's... a tongue.

A soft, flexible, and warm tongue slowly licked along the veins of the shaft. Starting from the base, it moved upwards, tracing every inch of skin, finally stopping at the glans. The tip of the tongue circled the urethral opening, collecting more of the secreted fluid, and then—the entire glans was taken into a warm, moist space.

oral sex.

The person under the table is giving him oral sex.

The teacher's hands clenched slightly on the table. He could feel Saintia's gaze, the service beneath the table, and the pleasure building within him. The three sensations intertwined, creating a strange, suffocating experience.

"Teacher, what's wrong?" Shengya suddenly asked. "Your face... is a little red."

"It's nothing," the teacher said, clearing her throat. "Maybe it's just a bit hot. Go on, tell me about that part."

Saintia glanced at the teacher for a few seconds, then continued, "At the end of that scene, I saw Nagisa... adjusting her clothes. Her stockings were torn, and there were some... marks on her thighs. Red marks, like fingerprints. And, the corners of her mouth..."

She paused for a moment, as if recalling something.

"There was a tiny white thing on the corner of her mouth. It was very fine, almost invisible, but I could see it clearly in my footage."

The oral sex under the table went deeper. Now, the entire penis was inside, reaching deep into her throat. The teacher could feel the muscles in her throat contracting, the tongue wrapping around the shaft, and the slight feeling of **** with each deep throat. Saliva mixed with pre-ejaculate made the whole process even more slippery.

What shocked the teacher even more was that he felt another pair of soft things pressed against the base of his penis.

That's... a chest.

Full, soft, and elastic breasts gripped the base of the penis. The flesh of the breasts tightly enveloped the shaft, rubbing against it with the up-and-down movement of the head. The nipples—erect nipples—occasionally brushed against the sensitive skin, providing additional stimulation.

Breast sex and oral sex are performed simultaneously.

The person under the table clamped the base of the penis between their breasts and swallowed the tip with their mouth, creating a double act of service. Each time the head moved down, the breasts would squeeze; each time the head moved up, the breasts would relax slightly, but the nipples would still brush against the skin.

The teacher's breathing became heavy. He had to put one hand under the table and press it against the head that was serving him. His fingers ran through the long, gray-gold hair, feeling the softness of the strands and the rhythm of the head moving up and down.

"Teacher?" Shengya's voice was filled with doubt. "Are you really alright?"

"I...I'm fine," the teacher said, her voice already a little hoarse. "It's just...I was thinking about some things. About Nagisa."

As he spoke, he pressed his fingers under the table, pushing the head even deeper. The penis was fully inserted into the back of the throat; he could feel the throat muscles contracting violently, and he could feel the swallowing motion. Then he released his grip, letting the head lift, but immediately pressed it down again.

Repeat this action.

Deep throat, again and again.

A faint swallowing sound came from under the table, along with a soft whimper from someone ****. But those sounds were deliberately suppressed, and only the teacher could hear them.

Saintia looked at her teacher, a glint of light flashing in her gradient-colored eyes. Then, she suddenly stood up.

“Teacher, I think I should go now,” she said, her voice still calm. “I suddenly remembered that I have a prayer meeting to lead this morning. Regarding Nagisa… if you notice anything unusual, please let me know.”

"I will," the teacher said, trying to make her voice sound normal.

Saintia nodded and turned to walk towards the door. But before opening it, she paused and glanced back at her teacher.

“Teacher,” she said, her tone carrying a certain meaning, “sometimes, what the eyes see is not necessarily the truth. But the body’s feelings… often do not lie.”

After saying that, she opened the door and went out.

The teacher finally relaxed the moment the door closed. He leaned back in his chair, breathing heavily. And the service under the table reached its climax at that moment.

The frequency of deep throating increased, and the pressure from the breasts intensified. The tongue swirled wildly around the glans, and the throat muscles contracted rhythmically. All the stimulation reached its peak simultaneously.

The teacher couldn't help but let out a low growl, his body tensing, his fingers digging deep into the long, gray-gold hair.

He ejaculated.

The scalding hot semen shot directly into the depths of his throat. He could feel the swallowing motion, the semen being swallowed mouthful by mouthful. The ejaculation lasted for several seconds, each pulse bringing intense pleasure.

As the last spurt of semen was ejaculated, the person under the table slowly raised their head. A thin strand of silvery saliva trailed from the penis as it slid out of their mouth.

Then, the person crawled out from under the table.

It is Zhu—or rather, the black clothes worn by Zhu people.

A trace of whitish semen clung to the corner of his mouth, his long, grey-gold hair was somewhat disheveled, a few strands clinging to his cheeks. The buttons of his tea party attire remained undone, revealing a large expanse of his chest. The crotch of his dark grey pantyhose was completely soaked, with clear water stains visible.

He knelt at the teacher's feet, raised his head, and a familiar, twisted smile appeared on his lips.

“Teacher shot so much,” he said, his voice hoarse from the act, with a hint of pride. “He drank it all… Teacher’s taste… was very strong and delicious.”

The teacher looked down at him, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

The man in black got up, but instead of standing, he moved forward on his knees until his face was close to the teacher's crotch. He reached out and grasped the still semi-erect penis that had just ejaculated, and gently licked away the remaining semen.

"Teacher, you were very nervous just now, weren't you?" he said as he licked, his tongue skillfully cleaning every inch of skin. "Saint Ya was right in front of me, and I was giving you oral sex under the table. That feeling... was very exciting, wasn't it?"

The teacher didn't answer, she just looked at him.

The man in black laughed and continued his cleaning. He took the entire penis back into his mouth and meticulously cleaned it with his tongue, from the base to the glans, leaving no part untouched. Saliva mixed with the remaining semen, making a soft, sloshing sound.

After cleaning, he looked up, his mouth still bearing traces of white fluid.

“Teacher,” he said, his voice softening—mimicking Nagisa’s tone, “Do you want more? Do you want…to enter my body?”

He stood up, but not completely straight; instead, he bent over and placed his hands on the armrests of the teacher's chair. This position caused his buttocks to stick out high, and his skirt to ride up, revealing completely soaked pantyhose and, beneath the pantyhose, his bare genitals barely visible.

The crotch of the dark gray stockings had been torn open, revealing a pinkish slit underneath. That slit was slightly open, oozing a clear liquid that glistened in the morning light.

“Teacher,” the man in black glanced back, his eyes filled with temptation, “come in. This time… no need for stockings.”

The teacher looked at him for a long time.

Then, the teacher stood up and walked behind him. She grasped his buttocks with both hands, her fingers sinking into his soft skin. Without foreplay or lubrication, she aimed his now-erect penis directly at the moist entrance and slowly pushed it in.

"Ah..." the man in black let out a satisfied sigh, "Teacher...it's so big...it went straight in..."

This time, there were no stockings to obstruct the way. The penis entered the moist, tight passage directly, and he could clearly feel every fold of the inner wall, the contraction of the muscles, and the warm embrace.

The teacher started moving.

At first, the thrusting was slow, each entry and exit accompanied by a clear, wet sound. Then, the speed gradually increased, and the **** intensified. The sounds of flesh colliding echoed in the office, along with the increasingly loud moans from the man in black.

"Ah... Teacher... so deep... it's hitting the spot... ah..." he groaned intermittently, his body swaying back and forth with each thrust. "That's it... harder... all of it... give it to me..."

The teacher didn't answer, but his movements became even more violent. His hands gripped the black-clad man's buttocks tightly, leaving red finger marks on his fair skin. Each impact nearly pushed the black-clad man forward, but he steadied himself by bracing himself on the armrest.

The thrusting became faster and faster. The penis moved in and out of the wet passage, bringing out more and more fluid. That fluid flowed down the black-clad man's thighs, soaking his pantyhose and dripping onto the floor, forming a small puddle.

The groans from the man in black grew louder and more out of control.

"Teacher...I'm...I'm going to...ah..." he screamed, his body trembling violently, "With...the teacher...ah..."

At that very moment, the teacher ejaculated again.

Hot semen was injected into his body, filling the repeatedly ravaged passage. At the same time as ejaculation, the man in black also reached his climax, his internal muscles contracting spasmodically, and more fluid gushed out, mixing with the teacher's semen, seeping from the point of union.

The climax lasted for about ten seconds, then slowly subsided.

The teacher withdrew, his penis pulling out with it, bringing with it a large amount of cloudy white fluid that flowed down the black-clad man's thigh and splashed on the floor. The man slumped into his chair, panting heavily, his body still trembling slightly.

It took him a long time to slowly sit up. His legs were so weak that he could barely stand, and he had to hold onto the table to steady himself.

He looked down at himself—his skirt was completely lifted to his waist, his pantyhose were soaking wet and torn, and his thighs were covered in a mixture of semen and his own bodily fluids. His chest heaved from the previous vigorous activity, and his nipples remained erect. Semen still clung to the corners of his mouth, and his long, gray-gold hair was disheveled.

But he smiled.

It was a satisfied, triumphant smile.

"The teacher is really amazing," he said, his voice languid after their encounter, "leaving me... very satisfied."

He stood up and began to tidy himself up. But this time, his movements were slow and unhurried, as if he were enjoying his disheveled state.

“I was thinking,” he said as he buttoned his shirt, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather, “that if it’s just me serving the teacher, it might not be enough. The teacher needs more service, more… enjoyment.”

He buttoned the last button, but deliberately didn't button it too neatly, leaving the front of his shirt slightly open. Then, he walked up to the teacher, reached out his hand, and gently ran his fingers across the teacher's cheek.

“Trinity has so many lovely students,” he said softly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Mika, Siya, Koharu, Hifumi… each one has a unique charm. If I turned them all into human skin… and had them all wear it to serve their teacher…”

He laughed, a laugh that was both beautiful and terrifying.

“In that case, the teacher can enjoy different services every day. Today it’s me, tomorrow it’s Mika, the day after tomorrow it’s Saintia… Everyone will use their best methods to make the teacher happy.”

His fingers slid from the teacher's cheek to her lips and pressed gently.

"What does the teacher think of this idea?"

The teacher grabbed his wrist, her eyes icy: "You dare touch them and see what happens."

"Oh?" The man in black tilted his head, mimicking the gesture perfectly. "Is Teacher threatening me? But... Teacher, weren't you enjoying yourself just now? You came twice while I was serving you, didn't you? It felt good, didn't it?"

He leaned closer, his lips almost touching the teacher's ear.

"And," he whispered, his voice seductive, "doesn't the teacher really want to? Doesn't she want to see Saintia's pure body defiled? Doesn't she want to hear Mika's joyful voice turn into groans of lust? Doesn't she want to see Koharu's innocent face stained with the color of depravity?"

He took a step back, his smile growing even brighter.

"I'll think about it carefully. Well then, teacher, I'll take my leave now. See you...tomorrow."

He turned and walked toward the door, but before opening it, he paused and looked back.

“Oh, right,” he said, tracing his lips lightly with his fingers, “the teacher’s semen…tastes really good. I’ll remember that taste.”

After saying that, he opened the door and went out.

The sound of high heels gradually faded away in the corridor.

The teacher stood there, looking at the mess in the office—water stains on the floor, dirt on the chairs, and the pervasive scent of lust in the air.

Then, he walked to the window and looked outside.

On the campus of Trinity College, students were having activities. He saw Mika—the pink-haired girl carrying a large bag of Perolo merchandise, chatting happily with a few friends. He saw Saintia—the girl with long, light blonde hair—walking towards the church, her back view pure and solemn. He saw Koharu—the pink-haired girl discussing something with Hifumi, her expression earnest and innocent.

Each and every one of them is his student.

Each one could become a target.

The teacher clenched his fist.

He knew he had to do something.

Before things become irreparable.