Chapter Nine: A Feast of Multiple Identities

Time, like a puppet controlled by Stardust, flowed slowly according to the rhythm she set. Yuuma gradually got used to this life surrounded by multiple identities—or rather, he learned to find a twisted balance in this life.

At 6:30 in the morning, before the alarm clock even rang, the sizzling sound of frying eggs could already be heard from the kitchen. Yuuma rubbed his eyes and walked down the stairs, where he saw Ayako Suzuki's back as she wore an apron. She wore a beige cardigan, a dark blue long skirt, and her hair was loosely tied up, with a few strands falling beside her neck. She turned and smiled at him, revealing fine crow's feet at the corners of her eyes—gentle marks left by time.

"Good morning, Yuzuru-kun." Her voice was like warm milk. "I made your favorite tamagoyaki today, and I added extra sugar."

A beautifully presented Japanese breakfast was laid out on the table: golden-brown tamagoyaki (Japanese rolled omelet) cut into neat squares, soft tofu and seaweed floating in miso soup, steaming white rice, and a small dish of pickled radish on the side. Everything was so perfect it looked like a picture cut out of a housekeeping magazine.

But Yu-chan knew what lay hidden beneath this perfection.

When he sat down to eat, Ayako sat opposite him, her hands supporting her chin as she looked at him. Her gaze was gentle, but Yuu could feel the weight of that gaze—it wasn't simple concern, but a deeper, possessive surveillance. Her fingers would occasionally tap unconsciously on the table, the rhythm regular, as if she were calculating something.

"Eat well today too," Ayako said, gently wiping a grain of rice from Yuuma's mouth. Her fingers were soft and warm, but Yuuma noticed a barely visible gray stain under her fingernails—was it from doing chores yesterday, or... something else?

"Thank you, Auntie," Yuzhen said softly.

Ayako smiled. It was a warm smile, but Yuuma felt... it was somewhat contrived. Like an actress performing the role of a "gentle mother" on stage, every expression, every movement was meticulously designed, so perfect it was unsettling.

After finishing breakfast, Yuuma went upstairs to change into his school uniform. As he walked out of the house with his backpack, Ayako was standing at the door, holding a lunchbox.

“Today’s bento box,” she said, handing him the box. “I made fried chicken nuggets and a vegetable salad, and your favorite dried plums.”

Yuuma took the lunchbox. The box was pink with a cute little bear pattern on it—Aunt Ayako had bought it especially for him, saying, "It's okay for boys to use pink." The edges of the box were a little worn, marks left by long-term use. But Yuuma noticed a thin, curly hair stuck in the gap of the lid—black, very thin, and not like a hair.

He looked up at Ayako.

Ayako was still smiling, her eyes as clear as an autumn lake.

"Be careful on the road," she said.

Yuuma nodded and turned to leave. He could feel the gaze on his back following him until he turned the corner.

School is another stage.

When Yuma entered the classroom, class president Onodera Aoi was already seated. She was dressed very neatly today, with the top button of her white shirt fastened, her dark blue suit jacket pressed without a single wrinkle, and her red plaid pleated skirt at the perfect length. Her hair was neatly combed, and her bangs were pinned to one side with a hair clip, revealing her smooth forehead.

But Yuma noticed some details.

Inside the collar of Aoi's white shirt, there was a small, almost invisible, pale yellow stain—it could be foundation, or… something else. Her black pantyhose had slight pilling behind the knees; the nylon fibers, worn smooth from prolonged friction, had formed tiny fuzz balls that shimmered unnaturally in the sunlight. Most noticeable was the corner of her mouth—there was a barely visible, transparent trace of liquid, like dried saliva.

"Good morning, Fujiwara-kun." Aoi looked up and smiled at him. The smile was standard and polite, but Yuuma could see something deep in her eyes—it wasn't the look of class president Onodera Aoi. It was Stardust's eyes, eyes filled with possessiveness and a desire for control, only cleverly hidden beneath the mask of a good student.

"Good morning, class monitor," Yuzhen said softly as she sat down in her seat.

The first class was math. Yuzhen was stunned when the teacher walked into the classroom.

The math teacher was a young woman named Yamada, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old. She usually wore conservative business attire—a dark suit skirt, a white blouse, and low-heeled shoes. But today… she was dressed very differently.

Ms. Yamada was wearing a beige knit sweater, the material thin and form-fitting, clearly revealing the outline of her black bra underneath. She wore a dark gray pencil skirt, very short, ending only at mid-thigh. Most importantly, her legs—long, slender legs encased in brand-new black stockings, the stockings thin and sheer, gleaming delicately under the classroom lights.

Her hair was also styled differently—usually tied in a neat ponytail, but today it was loose, with slightly curled ends and a few strands falling beside her face. Her makeup was also more refined than usual, with light pink lipstick and subtle gold eyeshadow.

"Good morning, students," said Ms. Yamada, her voice softer and more...charming than usual. "Today we're going to review trigonometric functions."

She turned and began writing on the blackboard. The movement caused her pencil skirt to ride up, revealing more of the back of her thighs. Her buttocks, encased in black stockings, had a perfect, alluring shape. A low gasp filled the classroom, and a few boys blushed.

Yuuma lowered his head, not daring to look. But he could feel Yamada-sensei's gaze—not on the whole class, but…on him. That gaze was direct, intense, and clearly provocative.

During the break, Ms. Yamada walked over to Yuuma's seat.

“Fujiwara-san,” she said gently, “you did very well on the last test. After school… could you come to my office? I’d like to discuss our study plans for the future.”

She leaned forward slightly, the neckline of her knitted sweater opening to reveal a black bra and a deep cleavage. Yuuma could smell her perfume—very light, very elegant, but mixed with a faint, familiar scent. It was the scent of Stardust's own slime, very faint, almost undetectable, but Yuuma knew it all too well.

"Okay, okay..." Yuma whispered.

Ms. Yamada smiled. It was a bright smile, but Yuuma could see a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth—a sign of her losing control. A fleeting, silvery-gray glint flashed deep in her eyes.

"It's a deal then," she said, turning to leave. Her legs, encased in black stockings, moved with elegant steps, her high heels clicking crisply on the floor.

Yuzhen watched her retreating figure, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her.

Stardust has taken control of another body.

He seized another identity.

And so... there's another way to get closer to him.

And this time, it was a teacher.

After school, Yuzhen went to the math office as agreed. The office was on the third floor of the teachers' building, and it was usually very quiet, as most teachers had already left at this time.

He knocked on the door.

"Please come in," came Mr. Yamada's voice from inside.

Yuuma pushed open the door and went inside. The office wasn't large, containing only a desk, a few bookshelves, and a small sofa. Ms. Yamada was sitting behind the desk, grading papers. She looked up and smiled at Yuuma.

"You're here," she said, standing up. "Have a seat."

She pointed to the small sofa. Yuuma walked over and sat down. Instead of returning to her desk, Ms. Yamada walked over and sat on the armrest of the sofa next to him. This position meant her thighs were almost touching Yuuma's arms, and her skin, encased in black stockings, gleamed delicately under the light.

"Regarding your study plan..." Ms. Yamada began, but her voice was soft and...ambiguous, "I think you have great potential. If you are properly nurtured...you will definitely be able to get into a very good university."

Her fingers lightly brushed across Yu-chan's shoulder, gliding over the fabric of her school uniform jacket.

"But..." she paused, leaning forward slightly, her face very close, "If studying is too hard... you also need to relax appropriately, right?"

Yuuma could smell her perfume, and that familiar scent of stardust's own slime. He could see her eyes—deep within her deep brown pupils, a faint, but unmistakable, silvery-gray light shimmered.

“Teacher…” Yuma whispered.

“Just call me Yamada.” She smiled, her fingers sliding from Yuuma’s shoulder to his chest, and began to unbutton his school uniform jacket. “In the office… you don’t have to be so reserved.”

One, two, three… the school uniform jacket was unbuttoned. Ms. Yamada's hands didn't stop; she continued unbuttoning his shirt. Her movements were practiced and composed, as if she were doing something very ordinary.

“Teacher…this is the office…” Yuzhen stammered.

“I know,” Ms. Yamada said calmly, “but it’s after get off work hours now, no one will come. And…”

She paused, her fingers resting on Yuzhen's chest, and gently pressed down.

"Don't you think...it's exciting?" Her voice was laced with laughter. "To have sex with a teacher in the teacher's office. That's a lot of boys' fantasies."

Yuuma froze. He stared at Ms. Yamada, at the face of the young female teacher, at those alluring eyes. He could feel his heart racing and his breathing becoming rapid.

Ms. Yamada smiled. She stood up and began to take off her clothes. First, her cardigan, which she casually tossed on the floor. The cardigan landed on the not-so-clean office floor—dusty, with tiny scraps of paper and some chalk dust. The off-white cardigan immediately stained with those grime, and a patch of gray dust clung to the cuffs.

Then came the pencil skirt. She unzipped the side, and the skirt slid to the floor, bunching at her ankles. She kicked it away, sending it flying under the desk and landing next to a trash can. The trash can contained used tissues and a coffee cup, stained with coffee and lipstick. The hem of the skirt brushed against the rim of the trash can, picking up some stains.

Now, all that's left on Ms. Yamada is wearing is a black bra, a black thong, and black stockings.

The stockings were in excellent condition—clearly newly changed, the nylon fibers smooth and fine, without any stains or tears. The cuffs were tight, clinging snugly to her upper thighs, outlining her perfect leg shape. But Yu knew that soon… these stockings would become dirty.

Teacher Yamada knelt down.

Her knees, clad in black stockings, touched the dirty office floor—dust, chalk dust, and dark, unidentifiable stains. Her knees sank into the grime, and the nylon fibers of the stockings immediately absorbed the gray dust and black stains.

She looked up at Yuzhen, then opened her mouth and took his semi-erect penis into her mouth.

Warm, moist, and firm.

Yuuma gasped. He could feel the warmth of Yamada-sensei's mouth, the agility of her tongue, and the contractions deep in her throat.

Ms. Yamada began to swallow and spit. Her technique was excellent; her tongue skillfully licked every sensitive spot on the glans, her lips tightly enveloped the shaft, and her throat rhythmically contracted. Soon, Yuuma's penis was fully erect in her mouth.

She brought him to orgasm using only her mouth, without using her hands.

Semen shot into Ms. Yamada's throat in spurts. She swallowed, her Adam's apple bobbing, swallowing all the semen. Then she spat out the penis, licking the glans clean with her tongue, cleaning up the last few drops of semen.

But her knees were still on the ground—the knees of her black stockings were now covered in grime, gray dust and black stains seeping into the nylon fibers, forming dirty spots. The grime was mixed with chalk dust, paper scraps, and even a few curly hairs of unknown origin.

Ms. Yamada stood up, the dirt on the knees of her stockings particularly glaring under the light. She walked over to Yuuma and straddled him. Her hands rested on the back of the sofa, looking down at Yuuma.

“Now,” she said breathlessly, a trace of clear saliva still lingering at the corner of her mouth, “we can… properly ‘coach’.”

Her vaginal opening was directly opposite Yuzhen's erect penis. It was wet and warm there, and some clear vaginal fluid could be seen slowly flowing out, dripping onto Yuzhen's lower abdomen and leaving sticky marks on his skin.

Her waist slowly sank down, and the penis slowly entered her vagina.

"Ah..." they both groaned at the same time.

The penis was fully inserted. Ms. Yamada's vagina was tight, hot, and wet. She began to slowly move her body up and down, allowing the penis to slide in and out of her vagina.

"Mmm... Yuzuru's... big cock..." Teacher Yamada gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure, "It's inside Teacher's... little hole... Ahh... so deep..."

Her movements quickened, each time she sat down, the penis penetrated deeper. Her thighs, encased in black stockings, taut with effort, revealing the clearly defined muscles beneath the nylon fibers. Dirt from the knees of the stockings flakeed off with the friction, and some dust and chalk dust fell onto Yuuma's thighs, leaving a slight stinging sensation on her skin.

"Teacher... Teacher's uterus..." Ms. Yamada said haltingly, her cheeks flushed, sweat dripping from her forehead onto Yuuma's chest, "It's being... touched by the student's penis... Ah... It's going to break... My uterus is going to break..."

Her vaginal walls began to spasm rhythmically, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within—orgasm fluid, mixed with previous vaginal discharge, overflowing from the point of contact and flowing down her thighs, leaving new, deeper stains on her black stockings.

"Ah... I'm going to come..." Ms. Yamada screamed, her body tense like a bowstring, "I'm going to... climax..."

Her vagina contracted violently, and her cervix sucked at Yuuma's glans as if it were alive. The suction was so strong that it pushed Yuuma to his limit.

"I...I also..." Yuzhen gasped, her waist convulsing violently.

“Shoot it in…” Teacher Yamada roared in his ear, “Shoot it into the teacher’s womb…make the teacher…pregnant with the student’s child…”

This sentence became the final catalyst. Yuuma's waist convulsed violently, and his semen shot into the depths of Yamada-sensei's vagina in spurts. This ejaculation was more intense and lasted longer than any before. He could feel the semen filling Yamada-sensei's vagina, and he could even feel some of the semen being drawn deeper into her cervix.

Ms. Yamada's body trembled violently with the rhythm of ejaculation, and that sticky, wet sound came from her throat again. Grayish-white tissue spilled from the corner of her mouth, but this time she didn't completely lose control—the tissue only gushed out briefly before receding. Clear mucus seeped from her mouth and nose, dripping onto Yuuma's chest, mixing with his sweat.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, both of them collapsed limply onto the sofa. Ms. Yamada lay on top of Yuuma, her face pressed against his chest, breathing heavily. Her body was still trembling slightly, and her vagina was still contracting rhythmically, as if squeezing out the last bit of semen.

A mixture of liquids gushed from their point of contact, soaking the sofa. The fabric sofa was now covered in various stains—the pale yellow of semen, the clear color of vaginal fluid, the gray of dust, and the milky white of mucus. These colors mixed together, forming a filthy, indescribable stain.

Ms. Yamada's black stockings are now completely ruined. The knees are covered in dirt from the ground, with gray dust and black stains seeping into the nylon fibers; the inner thighs are soaked with a mixture of bodily fluids, with dark water stains spreading to the groin; the cuffs are loose, the nylon fibers have lost their elasticity due to repeated stretching, and the edges are frayed.

Her bra and thong were covered in grime. Dust and pubic hair clung to the lace of her bra, and the dried fluid on her nipples had formed a thin, translucent film. The thin straps of her thong were embedded in her buttocks, clinging to a mixture of vaginal fluid that was slowly trickling down the straps and dripping onto the sofa.

After a long while, Ms. Yamada slowly raised her head. Her face was covered in sweat, her hair clung to her cheeks, and there was a trace of clear saliva at the corner of her mouth. But her eyes were bright, clear, and full of satisfaction.

"That's enough for today's 'tutoring'," she said softly, her fingers tracing lightly across Yuuma's chest. "Yuuma... you learn very quickly."

Yuuma looked at her, at that young and beautiful face that belonged to Yamada-sensei, but with eyes that held the possessive and controlling gaze of Stardust. A complex mix of emotions welled up inside him—shame, excitement, and a touch of… numbness.

He's used to it.

He was used to Stardust approaching him under different identities, used to Stardust seducing him with different bodies, and used to Stardust possessing him in different ways.

This has become a part of his life, a daily routine he cannot escape.

It was already dark when he left school. Yuzhen carried his schoolbag and walked home. He was exhausted, his back ached, there were slight bruises on his inner thighs, and his penis still felt sensitive from overuse.

But he knew that the day was not over yet.

He saw her halfway there.

Misaki Sato stood under the streetlight at the street corner, wearing her school uniform and carrying her backpack, looking like she had just finished school. Her posture was elegant, her back straight, her hands folded in front of her, like a true lady.

But Yu-chan knew that was just an appearance.

"Yuuma." Misaki's eyes lit up immediately when she saw him. She walked over quickly and naturally took his arm. "I've come to take you home."

Her body pressed against his, her breasts against his arm, creating a soft sensation. She could smell her perfume—faint, elegant, the kind of high-end perfume a young lady of the Sato family would wear. But Yuuma could also detect a familiar scent mixed in—the faint, almost imperceptible scent of Stardust's own slime, but unmistakably present.

"How was school today?" Misaki asked gently.

"It's...it's alright..." Yuma whispered.

“I heard…” Misaki paused, a hint of amusement in her voice, “that Mr. Yamada… sought your ‘tutoring’?”

Yuuma was stunned. He turned his head and looked at Misaki.

Misaki smiled. It was a bright smile, but there was a deeper meaning in her eyes that Yuuma couldn't understand.

“I know everything,” she said softly, her fingers tracing lightly across Yuuma’s arm. “Ms. Yamada, Class President Aoi, Aunt Ayako… and me. We… are all one being. We… know each other’s experiences.”

She leaned closer, her lips almost touching Yuuma's ear.

“So you see,” she whispered, “you can never escape. No matter where you are, no matter who you’re with… it’s me. It will always be me.”

Yuuma felt a chill. He looked at Misaki, at the noble and beautiful face that belonged to Sato Misaki, but her eyes held the possessive and controlling gaze of Stardust. He suddenly understood—Stardust wasn't approaching him with different identities, but rather surrounding him with the same being, with multiple identities, trapping him in an inescapable cage.

“However…” Misaki smiled, a gentle smile, “there’s a surprise for you today.”

"What surprise?" Yuzhen asked.

Misaki didn't answer. She just smiled, took his arm, and continued walking towards home.

When he got home, Yuzhen opened the door. The entryway light was on, as was the living room light. He could hear the sound of chopping vegetables coming from the kitchen and smell the aroma of food filling the air.

But when he walked into the living room, he froze.

There was more than one person in the living room.

Ayako Suzuki, wearing an apron, stood in the kitchen doorway, spatula in hand, a gentle smile on her face. Aoi Onodera sat on the sofa, a reference book in her hand, looking up at him and smiling. Professor Yamada stood by the window, a cup of tea in his hand, turning to smile at him. And Misaki Sato—the Misaki who had just been holding his arm—was now standing in the entryway, closing the door and turning to face him.

Four people.

Four different women.

Four different identities.

But their eyes... were exactly the same.

That was Stardust's gaze—a gaze filled with possessiveness, a desire for control, and a kind of almost insane love. Four pairs of eyes were looking at him simultaneously, and four faces smiled at the same time. The smiles were gentle and beautiful, but Yuuma felt a strong sense of fear.

“Welcome home, Yuzuru-kun,” Ayako said, her voice like warm milk.

"Is today's bento... good?" Aoi asked softly.

"Are you satisfied with the 'tutoring' in the office?" Ms. Yamada asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

“I told you… there was a surprise,” Misaki said, walking to Yuuma’s side and taking his arm again.

Yuuma stood there, staring at the scene before him, his mind a jumbled mess. He could smell the mixed scents in the air—Ayako's faint scent of laundry detergent, Aoi's fresh shampoo, Yamada-sensei's elegant perfume, and Misaki's sophisticated fragrance. But beneath all these scents, there was that familiar, viscous smell of stardust itself. It was faint, but undeniably present, like an invisible thread connecting these four different bodies.

“You…” Yuma stammered, “How could you…”

"Why are you all here?" Misaki picked up on his words and smiled, "Because today... is a special day."

She pulled Yuuma into the living room. Ayako put down the spatula and untied her apron. Aoi closed her reference book and stood up. Professor Yamada put down her teacup and came over. The four of them formed a semicircle, surrounding Yuuma in the middle.

"Today..." Ayako began, her voice gentle, "...how many days has it been since we met?"

“The forty-seventh day,” Aoi said, her voice precise. “It has been forty-seven days since Stardust first took control of Sato Misaki’s body and approached Yu-chan.”

“Forty-seven days…” Ms. Yamada repeated, her fingers gently tracing Yuuma’s cheek, “enough for a person to… completely get used to the presence of another person.”

Misaki smiled. She walked up to Yuuma and cupped his face in her hands.

“Yuzhen,” she said, her voice soft but clear, “In these forty-seven days… I approached you with different identities, took care of you with different bodies, and loved you in different ways. Now… I want you to see… all of me.”

She paused, looking at Yuuma.

“Not separately, not alternately, but… simultaneously,” she said. “I want you to see… what it would be like when all of ‘me’ is here…”

Yuzhen looked at her, at those expectant eyes. He could feel his heart racing, his breathing quickening. Fear, excitement, confusion, anticipation… a mix of emotions swirled together, creating a complex, indescribable feeling.

"You..." he whispered, "What do you want to do?"

Misaki laughed. It was a radiant, almost... insane laugh.

“I want to…” she said, her voice carrying an almost sacred solemnity, “to give you a grand feast. A… feast that belongs to just the two of us.”

She let go and took a step back. Then she began to take off her clothes.

First, she tossed her school uniform jacket onto the floor. The jacket landed on the not-so-clean living room floor—dust, tiny scraps of paper, and some unidentifiable black grime. Her expensive dark blue suit jacket immediately became stained with that grime, leaving a patch of gray dust on the cuffs.

Then came the shirt. She unbuttoned it one button at a time, slowly and gracefully. The shirt was completely open, revealing a white bra underneath. The bra was made of lace, semi-transparent, and the shape of her breasts and pink nipples were clearly visible.

She threw the shirt on the ground as well, and it landed next to the suit jacket. The pristine white fabric immediately became stained with dirt from the floor. A small black stain appeared on the collar.

Next came the skirt. She unzipped the side, and the pleated skirt slid to the floor, bunching at her ankles. She kicked it away, sending it flying to a corner of the room, landing next to a trash can. The trash can contained used tissues and food wrappers, stained with oil and food scraps. The hem of the skirt brushed against the rim of the trash can, picking up some stains.

Now, Misaki is only wearing a white bra, white panties, and black stockings.

The pantyhose were in excellent condition—clearly newly changed, the nylon fibers smooth and fine, without any stains or tears. The cuffs were tight, hugging her upper thighs and outlining her perfect leg shape.

But Yu knew that soon... these pantyhose would become dirty.

Misaki didn't stop. She turned to look at the other three people.

Ayako smiled. She began to undress—a beige cardigan, a dark blue long skirt, and her loungewear underneath. Her movements were relaxed and natural, as if she were doing something very ordinary. One piece of clothing fell to the ground, picking up dirt. Soon, she was left only with her bra, panties, and flesh-colored stockings.

Aoi began. She took off her school uniform jacket, unbuttoned her shirt, and unzipped her skirt. Her movements were precise and proper, like a good student completing homework. The clothes fell to the ground, and the pristine white shirt immediately became dusty. All that remained on her body were a black bra, black panties, and black stockings.

Ms. Yamada was the last one. She took off her cardigan and untied her pencil skirt with elegant, alluring movements. The clothes fell to the ground, a patch of gray dust smudged from the cuffs of her off-white cardigan. She was now wearing a black bra, black thong, and black stockings.

Now, four women—four different bodies, four different identities—stand almost naked in the living room. They wear different underwear and different stockings, but their eyes are exactly the same. They look at Yuuma, and in all four pairs of eyes shines the same light—possessiveness, a desire for control, and that almost insane love.

“Now…” Misaki said, her voice echoing in the quiet living room, “the feast… begins.”

She stepped forward and began to undress Yuuma. Ayako came over and helped her. Aoi and Mr. Yamada also came over, and four hands worked on him simultaneously—unbuckling his belt, unzipping his zipper, pulling down his pants, and taking off his underwear.

Soon, Yuma was also completely naked.

His penis slowly became erect under the watchful eyes of four pairs of people. Pre-ejaculate seeped from the urethra, forming a clear droplet on the glans.

Misaki smiled. She knelt down.

Her black pantyhose knees touched the dirty living room floor directly—a floor covered in dust, fine sand, and dark, unidentifiable stains. Her knees sank into the grime, and the nylon fibers of the pantyhose immediately absorbed the gray dust and black stains.

She looked up at Yuzhen, then opened her mouth and took his semi-erect penis into her mouth.

Warm, moist, and firm.

But this is not the end.

Ayako knelt down as well, to Misaki's left. Her knees, clad in flesh-colored pantyhose, touched the dirty ground and immediately became stained. She bent down and began to lick Yuuma's testicles. Her tongue was soft and warm, swirling around his scrotum, licking away the sweat and pre-ejaculate.

Aoi knelt to Misaki's right. Her knees, clad in black pantyhose, sank into the dirt on the ground. She bent down and began to lick Yuma's inner thigh. Her tongue was agile, gliding across the sensitive skin, bringing a subtle tickle.

Ms. Yamada didn't kneel; instead, she walked behind Yuuma. Her legs, encased in black stockings, stood on the ground, the soles of her high heels covered in dust and grime. She reached out and hugged Yuuma from behind, her breasts pressed against his back, her lips against his neck, and began to gently suckle.

Four mouths, four hands, four bodies.

at the same time.

Yuuma gasped. He could feel the warmth and tightness of Misaki's mouth, the softness and agility of Ayako's tongue, the delicacy and precision of Aoi's tongue, and the softness of Yamada-sensei's breasts and the warmth of her lips.

He could smell four different scents—Misaki's high-end perfume, Ayako's laundry detergent, Aoi's shampoo, and Yamada-sensei's perfume. But beneath each of these scents was a familiar, viscous smell of stardust itself. The four scents blended together to form a complex, intoxicating aroma.

He could see four different types of pantyhose—Misaki's black pantyhose had grime on the knees, Ayako's flesh-colored pantyhose were starting to get dirty on the knees, Aoi's black pantyhose had the knees stuck in dust, and Yamada-sensei's black stockings had dirt stuck to the soles of her shoes.

There's just too much of this...

That's too intense.

That's... insane.

"Ah..." Yuma couldn't help but groan.

Misaki quickened her pace. Her tongue swirled around the glans, pressing against the urethra, her throat contracting rhythmically. Ayako's tongue slid across the scrotum, occasionally sucking gently, causing a slight stinging sensation. Aoi's tongue moved along the inner thighs, from the base to the knees, leaving no spot untouched. Yamada-sensei's lips sucked on Yuuma's neck, leaving red hickeys, her hands caressing Yuuma's chest from behind, her fingers gently pressing on his nipples.

Quadruple stimulation.

Fourfold pleasure.

Yuma could feel his penis fully erect inside Misaki's mouth, and he could feel the pleasure building up, rising, and approaching the climax.

"Ah...I'm...I'm going to come..." he gasped.

Misaki didn't stop. Her sucking became faster and more forceful. Ayako's sucking intensified, Aoi's licking became more delicate, and Yamada-sensei's caresses became more provocative.

A few seconds later, Yuma's waist convulsed violently, and his semen shot into Misaki's throat in spurts.

The ejaculation was forceful and lasted a long time. Misaki swallowed, her Adam's apple bobbing, swallowing all the semen. But there was so much semen that some spilled from the corners of her mouth, ran down her chin, and dripped onto her chest, leaving white, cloudy marks on her fair skin.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, Yuuma went limp and could barely stand. Teacher Yamada hugged him from behind, supporting his body.

Misaki spat out the penis, licking the glans clean of the last few drops of semen. Then she looked up at Yuuma, a mixture of semen and saliva still clinging to the corner of her mouth.

“This is just… an appetizer,” she said breathlessly, her voice slightly hoarse from the deep throat she had just swallowed.

She stood up, and the grime on the knees of her pantyhose was particularly glaring under the light. The grime was mixed with dust, sand, and even a few fine, curly hairs—perhaps pubic hairs that Yuma had shed earlier, or perhaps hairs that had fallen off their own bodies.

Ayako and Aoi also stood up. Ayako's flesh-colored pantyhose knees were now completely filthy; gray dust and black stains had seeped into the nylon fibers, forming dirty spots. Aoi's black pantyhose knees were similarly covered in grime, and the nylon fibers at the cuffs had formed tiny fuzzy balls from kneeling.

Mr. Yamada released Yuuma and walked up to him. The four of them formed a semicircle again, surrounding Yuuma in the middle.

“Now…” Misaki said, her eyes bright and clear, “the main course… is about to be served.”

She turned and walked towards the sofa. Ayako, Aoi, and Yamada-sensei followed. The four of them sat down on the sofa—Misaki sat in the middle, Ayako and Aoi sat on either side, and Yamada-sensei sat on Misaki's lap.

They looked at Yuzhen, their four pairs of eyes sparkling with the same expectation.

"Come here," Misaki said, her voice soft but clear.

Yuuma walked over. His legs were a little weak, and his penis was still half-erect, covered with Misaki's saliva and residual semen.

Misaki patted the spot next to her. Yuuma sat down. The sofa was soft, but she could feel the firmness of the springs underneath. The sofa fabric was beige, now stained with various marks—the semen and vaginal fluid from before, the dust from their knees, and the sweat from their bodies.

“Now…” Misaki said, her hand sliding down to Yuuma’s thigh and gently stroking it, “you can… choose.”

"What should we choose?" Yuma asked softly.

"Choose... who to do it with first." Misaki smiled, a bright smile. "Aunt Ayako? Class President Aoi? Teacher Yamada? Or... me?"

Her hand slid from Yuuma's thigh to his penis, gently stroking it. His penis slowly became fully erect in her hand.

“Or…” she paused, looking at Yuuma, “you can… do it all at the same time.”

Yuuma was stunned. He looked at Misaki, at those alluring eyes.

"At the same time?" he repeated.

“Mmm.” Misaki nodded, her hand continuing to stroke Yuuma’s penis. “We can…all together. The four of us…together.”

She turned to look at the other three. Ayako smiled, Aoi blushed, and Yamada-sensei's eyes lit up.

“But…” Misaki turned back to look at Yuuma, “that requires… your cooperation. It requires you… to be strong enough.”

She increased the pressure of her hand and moved it faster.

"Are you... strong enough?" she asked, her voice laced with provocation.

Yuuma looked at her, at that noble and beautiful face that belonged to Sato Misaki, but his eyes held the possessive and controlling gaze of Stardust. He looked at the other three—Ayako's gentle smile, Aoi's shy expression, and Yamada-sensei's alluring eyes.

He suddenly felt a powerful urge—not lust, but… something deeper. Something that wanted to prove himself. Something that wanted to…conquer.

“I…” he began, his voice a little hoarse, “I can give it a try.”

Misaki smiled. It was a satisfied, triumphant smile.

“Okay,” she said, letting go of his hand and standing up. “Then let’s… give it a try.”

She walked to the center of the living room and lay down on the floor. The floor was dirty—dusty, with tiny grains of sand and some dark stains. But she didn't care. She spread her legs, revealing her dark pubic hair and pink labia. It was moist and warm there, and she could see some clear vaginal fluid slowly flowing out.

“Come here,” she said, her voice soft but clear.

Yuzhen walked over and knelt between her legs. His penis was fully erect, the head of his penis pressed against the entrance of her vagina.

Ayako walked over and knelt to Misaki's left. She bent down and began kissing Misaki's breasts. Her tongue swirled around the nipples, gently sucking. Misaki let out a satisfied sigh.

Aoi knelt to Misaki's right. She leaned down and began kissing Misaki's lower abdomen. Her lips moved across the flat skin, occasionally sucking gently, leaving red hickeys.

Ms. Yamada walked up behind Yuuma. She knelt down, her black stockings touching the dirty ground and immediately getting stained. She reached out and hugged Yuuma from behind, her breasts pressed against his back and her lips against his neck.

“Now…” Misaki said breathlessly, “come in…”

Yuma thrust his hips forward, and his penis entered Misaki's vagina.

"Ah..." they both groaned at the same time.

The penis was fully inserted. Misaki's vagina was tight, hot, and wet. Yuuma began to slowly thrust in and out, moving the penis in and out of her vagina.

Ayako's lips slid from Misaki's breasts to Yuuma's chest, beginning to kiss his pectoral muscles. Her tongue circled around his nipples, bringing a subtle stimulation.

Aoi's lips slid from Misaki's lower abdomen to Yuuma's thigh, beginning to kiss the inside of his thigh. Her lips were soft and warm, moving over his sensitive skin.

Ms. Yamada's lips kissed Yuuma's neck, leaving more hickeys. Her hands caressed Yuuma's abdomen from behind, her fingers gently pressing on his lower abdomen.

Quadruple stimulation.

Fourfold pleasure.

Yuma could feel the tightness and warmth of Misaki's vagina, the softness and flexibility of Ayako's tongue, the warmth and delicacy of Aoi's lips, and the softness of Yamada-sensei's breasts and the warmth of her lips.

He could smell four different body odors—the sweet, fishy smell of Misaki's vaginal secretions, the scent of laundry detergent on Ayako, the smell of shampoo on Aoi, and the perfume on Yamada-sensei. But beneath these odors, there was also that familiar scent of Stardust's own slime. The four scents blended together to form a complex, intoxicating aroma.

He could see four different types of pantyhose—Misaki's black pantyhose were taut at the crotch due to her posture, clearly showing the outline of her genitals beneath the nylon fibers; Ayako's flesh-colored pantyhose had completely dirty knees, with gray dust and black stains seeping into the nylon fibers; Aoi's black pantyhose were also covered in dirt at the knees, and the nylon fibers at the top of the stockings were pilling; and Yamada-sensei's black stockings had knees stuck in dust, with the soles of her high heels covered in dirt.

"Ah... Yuuma... so deep..." Misaki gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure, "Your cock... is inside so deep... all the way in..."

Her vagina contracted violently, the inner muscles tightly gripping Yuuma's penis, creating a strong feeling of pressure. A large amount of vaginal fluid gushed out, flowing down their joined bodies, soaking her black pantyhose on her inner thighs and the skin of Yuuma's lower abdomen.

The crotch of the pantyhose was now completely soaked, dark stains running from the vaginal opening down to the groin. The nylon fibers clung tightly to the skin, outlining the contours of the vulva, saturated with the liquid. The liquid, a mixture of vaginal fluid, sweat, and previous saliva, left a sticky, reflective residue on the black pantyhose.

"Ah...it's coming..." Misaki screamed, her body tense like a bowstring, "I'm going to climax...with Yuuma...climaxing..."

Her vaginal walls began to spasm rhythmically, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within—orgasm fluid, mixed with previous vaginal discharge, overflowing from the point of contact and running down her thighs, leaving new, deeper stains on her black pantyhose.

The stimulation of the climax brought Yuuma to his limit. His waist convulsed violently, and his semen shot into the depths of Misaki's vagina in spurts.

The ejaculation was forceful and prolonged. Misaki's body trembled violently with the rhythm of ejaculation, and a sticky, wet sound came from her throat. Grayish-white tissue spilled from the corners of her mouth, but this time she didn't completely lose control—the tissue only gushed out briefly before receding. Clear mucus seeped from her mouth and nose, dripping onto her chest and mixing with her sweat.

Ayako, Aoi, and Ms. Yamada didn't stop. They continued kissing, caressing, and stimulating. Their lips and tongues moved over Yuuma and Misaki's bodies, leaving red hickeys and wet saliva marks.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, Yuuma went limp and collapsed onto Misaki. Misaki also went limp, lying on the floor, panting heavily. Her body was still trembling slightly, and her vagina was still contracting rhythmically, as if squeezing out the last bit of semen.

A mixture of fluids gushed from their point of union, soaking the floor. The floor was now covered in various stains—the pale yellow of semen, the clear liquid of vaginal fluid, the gray of dust, and the milky white of mucus. These colors blended together, forming a filthy, indescribable stain.

Misaki's black pantyhose are now completely ruined. The knees are covered in dirt from the ground, with gray dust and black stains seeping into the nylon fibers; the crotch is soaked with a mixture of bodily fluids, and dark water stains have spread to the groin; the cuffs are loose, the nylon fibers have lost their elasticity from repeated stretching, and the edges are frayed.

Her bra and panties were covered in grime. Dust and pubic hair clung to the lace of her bra, and the dried fluid on her nipples had formed a thin, translucent film. The crotch of her panties was completely soaked, covered with a mixture of fluids from her vagina. Misaki's body was still trembling slightly from the afterglow of her orgasm, and the mixed fluids slowly flowed from between her legs, forming sticky, dark stains on her black pantyhose. Ayako was the first to move—she gently helped Yuuma, who was slumped against Misaki, to sit up and let him lean against her. His thighs, encased in flesh-colored pantyhose, became his support; the thin nylon fibers were now mottled and stained from the dust on the ground and the grime he had picked up while kneeling.

"My turn, Yuzuru-kun." Ayako's voice was still as gentle as warm milk, but her fingers had already slid to Yuzuru's semi-erect penis and began to rhythmically stroke it. Her palms were warm, and her fingertips had thin calluses from years of housework. The rough touch rubbed against the sensitive shaft, bringing a stimulation completely different from Misaki's.

Yuuma, panting, looked up and saw Ayako's gaze fixed on him—it was Stardust's gaze, but through Ayako's gentle face, it held a strange maternal allure. Her cardigan was already off, and a white cotton bra covered her full breasts, the cleavage still stained with a mixture of semen and saliva from when she kissed Misaki, reflecting unnaturally under the light.

“Aunt Ayako…” Yuma murmured, the title seeming particularly taboo at this moment.

"Yes, it's me." Ayako smiled, the fine crow's feet at the corners of her eyes deepening with the smile. "It's always been me."

She guided Yuuma to roll over, letting him lie on top of her. This position allowed Yuuma's face to be buried between her full breasts, where he could smell the fresh scent of laundry detergent mixed with the smell of sweat and a faint, almost imperceptible, humus-like scent of Stardust itself. Ayako's arms wrapped around his back, her legs, encased in flesh-colored pantyhose, parted and clamped around his waist.

“Come in,” she said softly, her voice encouraging, “let Auntie feel Yu-chan’s…warmth.”

Yuuma thrust his hips forward, his penis pressing against Ayako's wet entrance. It was tighter than Misaki's, with more folds in the inner walls, like the body of a mature woman who hadn't had sex in a long time—but the owner of this body, Suzuki Ayako, was clearly a widow, and should have not had sex for many years.

This realization filled Yuzhen with a sinful excitement. He thrust in forcefully, his penis fully plunging into the warm passage.

"Ah..." Ayako let out a satisfied sigh, her voice lower and hoarser than usual, "So full... Yu-chan's... it's all in..."

She began to slowly move her hips up and down, allowing the penis to slide in and out of her vagina. Each thrust brought out a mixture of fluids—her own vaginal fluid, the semen that Misaki had previously retained, and the semen that Yuuma had just ejaculated and hadn't completely drained. These fluids smeared the point where the two were joined, running down Ayako's thighs and soaking the crotch of her flesh-colored pantyhose.

The nylon fibers of the pantyhose became transparent as the liquid soaked through, clinging tightly to her skin and outlining the contours of her genitals. The liquid contained particles of dust—had it come from the floor, or rubbed off Misaki? Yuuma couldn't tell. He could only see the dark water stain spreading across the flesh-colored pantyhose, like some kind of dirty mark.

"Is it...comfortable inside, Auntie?" Ayako asked breathlessly, her hands sliding from Yuuma's back to his buttocks, gently pressing to encourage him to penetrate deeper. "It's...different from that of a young girl, isn't it?"

It was definitely different. Ayako's vagina was tighter, the muscles of the inner walls were stronger, and the rhythm of the contractions was slower but more sustained. Moreover, she could control it better—Yuuma could feel the inner walls of her vagina consciously wrapping around, squeezing, and sucking his penis; that kind of skillful stimulation was more irresistible than a simple instinctive reaction.

"So...comfortable..." Yuma said intermittently, burying his face in Ayako's breasts, breathing in the mixed scents on her body.

"That's good." Ayako smiled, her hips beginning to move faster. Her flesh-colored pantyhose-clad buttocks collided with Yuuma's lower abdomen, producing a dull thud. Tiny fuzz balls formed at the crotch of the pantyhose from the friction, the fuzz balls glistening with a mixture of bodily fluids under the light, giving them an unnatural sheen.

At that moment, Aoi leaned closer. She had already taken off her bra, revealing small, firm, youthful breasts with pink nipples erect from excitement. She knelt beside Ayako's head and began to kiss Ayako's lips. The two women's tongues intertwined, exchanging saliva and the taste of semen left over from their previous oral sex.

Yuma could see Aoi's knees in her black pantyhose—those knees had also been kneeling on the ground, now covered in dust and grime. The gray stains were particularly noticeable on the black nylon fibers, and in some places, tiny grains of sand could even be seen embedded in the fibers. The tops of her pantyhose were loose, the edges frayed, revealing a small section of fair skin at the base of her thighs—but that area was now also covered in dust, rubbed off from the pantyhose.

Ms. Yamada wasn't idle either. She walked behind Yuuma, her legs, encased in black stockings, straddling his body. She leaned down, her breasts drooping, gently rubbing against Yuuma's back. The stockings were thinner and smoother than pantyhose, and Yuuma could clearly feel the warmth and smoothness of her inner thighs.

"Yuuma-kun..." Mr. Yamada whispered in Yuuma's ear, his voice carrying the authority typical of a teacher, but at this moment that authority seemed particularly lewd, "You have to... satisfy Aunt Ayako properly. She's been alone... for a long time."

This sentence acted like a catalyst. Yuma felt his penis swell even more inside Ayako, the glans pressing against a particularly deep spot.

“There…that’s it…” Ayako suddenly screamed, her body trembling violently, “My cervix…it’s being pushed against…ah…Yushin-kun…good boy…you’ve reached the deepest part of Auntie…”

Her vaginal walls began to spasm violently, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within—not ordinary vaginal fluid, but a special liquid mixed with her own body fluids, with a slightly humid smell. The liquid gushed out in large quantities, flowing down the point where the two were joined, soaking Ayako's flesh-colored pantyhose on her inner thighs, and also wetting Yuuma's lower abdomen.

The inner thighs of the pantyhose were now completely soaked, dark water stains running from the crotch down to the knees. The nylon fibers clung tightly to the skin, outlining the lines of the inner thigh muscles as the liquid seeped through. The liquid, a mixture of semen, vaginal fluid, dirt, and mucus, formed sticky, reflective marks on the flesh-colored pantyhose.

The stimulation of the climax brought Yuuma to his limit. His waist convulsed violently, and his semen shot into Ayako's vagina in spurts.

This ejaculation was more intense than when it was inside Misaki. Yuuma could feel the semen filling Ayako's vagina, and even feel some of it being drawn deeper into her cervix. Ayako's body trembled violently with the rhythm of the ejaculation, and a sticky, wet sound came from her throat. Grayish-white tissue spilled from the corners of her mouth—this time it was more pronounced, with more tissue gushing out, almost covering her entire chin.

But Aoi immediately bent down and sealed Ayako's mouth with her own. She sucked on the oozing grayish-white tissue and swallowed it. Clear mucus overflowed from the corners of their mouths, dripping onto Ayako's chest and mixing with her sweat.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, Yuuma went limp and collapsed onto Ayako. Ayako also went limp, lying on the floor, panting heavily. Her body was still trembling slightly, and her vagina was still contracting rhythmically, as if squeezing out the last bit of semen.

A mixture of fluids gushed from their point of union, soaking the floor. The floor was now covered in various stains—the pale yellow of semen, the clear liquid of vaginal fluid, the gray of dust, and the milky white of mucus. These colors blended together, forming a filthy, indescribable stain.

Ayako's flesh-colored pantyhose were now completely ruined. The knees were covered in dirt from the ground, with gray dust and black stains seeping into the nylon fibers; the crotch was soaked with a mixture of bodily fluids, and dark water stains spread to the groin; the cuffs were loose, the nylon fibers had lost their elasticity from repeated stretching, and the edges were frayed.

Her bra and panties were covered in all sorts of grime. Dust and pubic hair clung to the cotton fabric of her bra, and the dried fluid applied to her nipples had formed a thin, translucent film. The crotch area of ​​her panties was completely soaked, covered with a mixture of fluids that had seeped from her vagina, which were slowly spreading along the fabric fibers, forming dark stains.

Aoi looked up, a trace of clear saliva still clinging to the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and swallowed the saliva. Then she looked at Yuuma, her eyes filled with anticipation.

“It’s my turn,” she said, her voice soft but clear.

Aoi helped Yuuma up from Ayako's body. Yuuma's legs were weak, and he could barely stand. Aoi supported him, letting him lean against her. Her body was slender and supple, and the skin encased in black pantyhose was warm and elastic.

"Can you stand up?" Aoi asked, her voice filled with concern—that was the tone that class monitor Onodera Aoi should have, but Yuuma knew that it was just an act.

"It's...it's alright..." Yuma said breathlessly.

Aoi smiled. She led Yuuma to the wall and made him stand with his back against it. Then she knelt down.

The knees of her black pantyhose touched the dirty ground again—the ground was now covered not only in dust and grime, but also in the mixed bodily fluids that Misaki and Ayako had previously expelled. The viscous liquid clung to the knees of her pantyhose, instantly forming dark stains. Dust and sand clung to the damp nylon fibers, creating a rough, granular texture.

Aoi looked up at Yuuma, then opened her mouth and took his penis, which had just ejaculated and was still covered with Ayako's vaginal fluid and semen, into her mouth.

Warm, moist, and firm.

But this time, Yuuma could clearly taste—no, Aoi could clearly taste—the mixed flavors. The slightly sour taste of Ayako's vaginal fluids, the fishy saltiness of her semen, and the unique humus-like aroma of Stardust's own mucus. These flavors blended together to create a complex, nauseating yet exciting taste.

Aoi began to swallow and spit. Her technique was a little less refined than Misaki's and Ayako's, but she was more earnest and meticulous. Her tongue carefully licked every part of the penis, from the base to the glans, from the urethral opening to the coronal sulcus. She was as if she were completing an important task, striving for perfection in every movement.

Yuma leaned against the wall, looking down at Aoi. She could see the stains spreading across the knees of Aoi's black pantyhose—the stains extending from the knees to the calves, the dark liquid marks on the black nylon fibers resembling some kind of dirty tattoo. She could see the corners of Aoi's mouth stretched and distorted from the deep throat, saliva mixed with the previous mucus overflowing from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin, and dripping onto her chest.

Aoi's chest was flat, her breasts small, and her nipples a pale pink. But now, her fair skin was covered in all sorts of grime—dust, saliva, mucus, and a few fine, curly pubic hairs. Those pubic hairs belonged to who-knows-who—maybe Yuuma's, maybe Misaki's, maybe Ayako's, or maybe…Aoi's own.

"Mmm...mmm..." Aoi made a muffled sound, her throat contracting rhythmically, giving his penis intense stimulation. Her hands gripped Yuuma's thighs, her fingers, encased in black pantyhose, digging deep into his leg muscles.

Soon, Yuuma's penis became erect again in her mouth. This time, Aoi didn't use her hands, but only her mouth, to bring him to orgasm.

The semen shot deep into her throat. She swallowed, her Adam's apple bobbing, but there was so much semen that some spilled from the corners of her mouth, running down her chin and dripping onto her chest and abdomen. The whitish liquid stood out starkly against her pale skin, like some kind of dirty graffiti.

Aoi spat out the penis, licking the glans with her tongue, cleaning up the last few drops of semen. Then she looked up at Yuuma, a mixture of semen and saliva still clinging to the corner of her mouth.

“Class monitor…” Yuzhen murmured.

“I’m here,” Aoi said, her voice slightly hoarse from the deep throat she had just slurred. “It’s always been me.”

She stood up, and the stains on her black pantyhose knees had now spread completely. The stains were a mixture of dust, bodily fluids, mucus, and even a few tiny, unidentifiable black flakes. The nylon fibers of the pantyhose had become transparent from the liquid, clinging tightly to the skin of her knees, revealing the reddened skin underneath—the result of kneeling on the hard ground for a long time.

Aoi walked up to Yuuma, turning her back to him. She bent over, placing her hands on the wall, her buttocks sticking out high. This position caused her pleated skirt—she was still wearing a skirt, albeit a disheveled one—to ride up, revealing her buttocks and the back of her thighs encased in black pantyhose.

The pantyhose were stretched taut at the buttocks due to the posture, clearly showing the contours of the buttocks flesh beneath the nylon fibers. The seams of the pantyhose sank into the buttock crease, forming a deep indentation. The crotch of the pantyhose was completely soaked, with dark water stains spreading from the vaginal opening down to the groin.

“From behind…” Aoi said softly, her voice tinged with shyness—but Yu knew that shyness was an act, “I…I’ve never tried from behind before…”

Yuma walked over and stood behind her. His penis became erect again, the glans pressing against the wet area at the crotch of her pantyhose. The nylon fibers had a peculiar feel—rough, yet elastic, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath through the thin fabric.

He thrust his hips forward, his penis penetrating Aoi's vagina through her pantyhose.

"Ah..." Aoi let out a short scream.

It wasn't direct insertion, but rather through the pantyhose. The nylon fibers rubbed against the penis and vaginal opening, creating a rough and intense stimulation. The pantyhose fibers frayed due to the friction, and these tiny fuzzy balls, coated with bodily fluids, were drawn into the vagina during penetration.

Yuma began thrusting. With each in-and-out motion, the nylon fibers of the pantyhose rubbed against the penis and the inner walls of the vagina, causing a burning, stinging sensation. But that stinging quickly transformed into pleasure, a complex feeling that mixed pain and pleasure.

Aoi's vagina was tight and hot; even through her pantyhose, she could feel the contractions of the inner muscles. She began to actively move backward to meet him, allowing each penetration to go deeper. The black pantyhose-clad buttocks collided with Yuuma's lower abdomen, producing a dull thud of flesh hitting flesh.

"Ah... Yuuma-kun... so deep..." Aoi gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure, "Even through the socks... it goes in this deep... ah... it's going to break... it's going to break..."

Her vaginal walls began to spasm violently, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within—the liquid soaked through the crotch of her pantyhose, making the nylon fibers even more transparent and clinging even tighter to her skin. Yuzhen could clearly see a distinct bulge in the center of the dark water stain at the crotch of the pantyhose—the shape of his penis, clearly visible through the soaked pantyhose.

"Ah... I'm coming..." Aoi screamed, her body tense like a bowstring, "I'm climaxing through the socks..."

Her vagina contracted violently, and the powerful suction could be felt even through her pantyhose. Yuzhen's waist convulsed violently, and spurts of semen shot out.

Semen splattered on the crotch of the pantyhose, soaking through the thin nylon fibers. The white semen stood out starkly against the black pantyhose, like some kind of dirty graffiti. The semen mixed with Aoi's vaginal fluids, spreading along the fibers of the pantyhose to form a sticky, translucent stain.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, Yuuma went limp and collapsed onto Aoi's back. Aoi also went limp, her hands braced against the wall, panting heavily. Her body was still trembling slightly, and her vagina was still contracting rhythmically, which could be felt even through her soaked pantyhose.

A mixture of fluids gushed from their point of contact, running down Aoi's thighs and soaking her calves in black pantyhose. The nylon of the pantyhose was now completely ruined—the knees were stained with grime, the crotch was saturated with bodily fluids, her calves were wet from the dripping liquid, and the cuffs were loose and frayed.

Aoi's school uniform shirt was also covered in all sorts of grime. There were dark water stains left by Yuuma's sweat on the back, the armpits were soaked with sweat, and the collar was stained with a mixture of saliva and mucus. Most noticeably, her skirt hem was covered in dust, bodily fluids, and mucus, with even black stains from the floor smeared on the edges.

Ms. Yamada walked over at that moment. She had already taken off her stockings, her legs were completely bare, and her fair skin was covered with dust and sweat. She knelt down next to Aoi and began to kiss Aoi's cheek.

"Well done," Mr. Yamada said softly, his voice filled with praise. "Class representative...you worked very hard."

Aoi turned her head and kissed Yamada-sensei. The two women's tongues intertwined, exchanging the taste of saliva and semen. Yuuma could see that there was also a clear, sticky residue at the corner of Yamada-sensei's mouth—it was the secretion of Stardust's true form, flowing from deep within her mouth, but she controlled it so that it did not fully manifest.

Misaki and Ayako joined in. Four women—four bodies, four identities—surrounded Yuuma. They were all almost naked, covered in filth, their pantyhose or stockings completely ruined, but their eyes were all the same.

That was Stardust's gaze.

It's filled with possessiveness, a desire for control, and an almost obsessive love.

“Now…” Misaki began, her voice soft but clear, “it’s Yamada-sensei’s turn.”

Ms. Yamada smiled. She stood up and walked to the center of the living room—the dirtiest area on the floor, covered in the mixed bodily fluids left by everyone before. She lay down without a care, her fair back directly in contact with the viscous liquid.

“Yuuma,” she said, her voice carrying the authority typical of a teacher, “come here.”

Yuma walked over. His legs were weak, and every step was difficult. Teacher Yamada spread her legs, revealing her black pubic hair and pink labia. It was wet and warm there, and some clear vaginal fluid could be seen slowly flowing out, mixing with the mixed bodily fluids on the floor.

“Today,” Ms. Yamada said, her fingers gently stroking her genitals, “I’m going to teach you… one last lesson.”

Yuma knelt between her legs. His penis was still semi-erect, covered in nylon fibers from his pantyhose and a mixture of bodily fluids. Ms. Yamada reached out and grasped his penis, guiding it towards her vaginal opening.

“The content of this lesson is…” she paused, thrusting her hips upwards to allow the penis to penetrate her vagina, “How to… satisfy… multiple women simultaneously.”

The penis was fully inserted. Yamada-sensei's vagina was tight, hot, and wet. Yuuma began to slowly thrust in and out, moving the penis in and out of her vagina.

Misaki, Ayako, and Aoi gathered around. Misaki knelt beside Yamada-sensei's head and began kissing her lips. Ayako knelt to Yamada-sensei's left and began kissing her breasts. Aoi knelt to Yamada-sensei's right and began kissing her lower abdomen.

Four women—four bodies—are connected once again. But this time, Yuu is the center, the connecting point, the… object of everyone's service.

He could feel the tightness and warmth of Yamada-sensei's vagina, the flexibility of Misaki's tongue, the softness of Ayako's lips, and the delicacy of Aoi's fingers.

He could smell four different body odors—the slightly sweet scent of Yamada-sensei's vaginal secretions, the luxurious perfume on Misaki, the laundry detergent scent on Ayako, and the shampoo scent on Aoi. But beneath these odors, there was also that familiar, viscous smell of Stardust's own secretions. The four scents blended together, creating a dizzying, almost suffocatingly intense aroma. Yuuma felt as if he were drowning in some kind of viscous liquid, inhaling more filth and desire with each breath.

Ms. Yamada's waist began to actively respond to his thrusts, each movement burying his penis deeper inside her. Her hands gripped Yuuma's thighs, her nails digging deep into his skin, leaving red scratches. Those scratches were quickly soaked with sweat, gleaming unnaturally under the light.

"Ah... Yuma-kun... Teacher's... little hole..." Teacher Yamada gasped, her voice distorted with pleasure, "It's been... fucked... completely... a mess by the student's... big cock..."

Her vaginal walls began to contract rhythmically, as if some living organ was actively sucking, squeezing, and enveloping the invading penis. Yuu could feel the skillful stimulation—not a simple instinctive reaction, but a carefully calculated and controlled movement. Each contraction precisely stimulated the most sensitive part of the glans, and each relaxation just made him want to penetrate deeper.

Misaki's lips slid from Yamada-sensei's mouth to her neck, leaving a red hickey. Ayako's tongue swirled around Yamada-sensei's nipple, gently sucking, making the pink nipple even harder. Aoi's fingers gently pressed on Yamada-sensei's lower abdomen, feeling the rise and fall of the penis inside as it thrust in and out.

“Look…” Ms. Yamada said breathlessly, her hand sliding down to her lower abdomen and gently pressing, “Can you feel it… Yuuma-kun’s… penis… moving… inside my belly…”

Yuma looked down. On Yamada-sensei's flat stomach, there was indeed a noticeable bulge—the shape of his penis, its outline protruding inside her. With each thrust, the position of that bulge changed, as if it were churning inside her.

This sight excited Yuuma even more. He increased the speed of his thrusts, each one more forceful and deeper. Yamada-sensei's back rubbed against the floor, her fair skin covered in a mixture of bodily fluids—semen, vaginal fluid, dust, and mucus—which smeared her back, forming dirty, indescribable stains.

"Ah...deeper...deeper..." Ms. Yamada screamed, her legs tightly clamped around Yuuma's waist, her ankles, encased in black stockings, crossed behind him. "It's hitting...my uterus...ah...the teacher's uterus...is being...penetrated by the student's penis..."

Her vaginal walls began to spasm violently, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within—it was her orgasmic fluid, a special liquid mixed with her own bodily fluids, with a slightly humid smell. The fluid gushed out in large quantities, flowing down from where the two were joined, soaking the skin of her inner thighs and the floor.

The stains on the floor were now more complex. The various bodily fluids that were already there had mixed together and were now covered by new liquids, forming a sticky, translucent film. Dust and tiny fibers clung to that film, like some kind of dirty work of art.

The stimulation of the climax brought Yuuma to his limit. His waist convulsed violently, and his semen shot into the depths of Yamada-sensei's vagina in spurts.

This ejaculation was more intense than any before. Yuma could feel the semen filling Yamada-sensei's vagina, and even feel some of it being drawn deeper into her cervix. Yamada-sensei's body trembled violently with the rhythm of the ejaculation, and a thick, wet sound came from her throat. Grayish-white tissue overflowed from the corners of her mouth—this time it was more pronounced, with more tissue gushing out, almost covering her entire chin.

Misaki immediately leaned down and sealed Yamada-sensei's mouth with her own. She sucked on the oozing grayish-white tissue and swallowed it. Clear viscous fluid overflowed from the corners of their mouths, dripping onto Yamada-sensei's chest and mixing with his sweat.

Ayako and Aoi weren't idle either. Ayako continued to suckle at Yamada-sensei's breasts, while Aoi's fingers continued to press on her lower abdomen, feeling the vibrations as the semen was ejaculated inside.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, Yuuma went limp and collapsed onto Yamada-sensei. Yamada-sensei also went limp, lying on the floor, panting heavily. Her body was still trembling slightly, and her vagina was still contracting rhythmically, as if squeezing out the last bit of semen.

A mixture of fluids gushed from their point of union, soaking the floor. The floor was now covered in various stains—the pale yellow of semen, the clear liquid of vaginal fluid, the gray of dust, and the milky white of mucus. These colors blended together, forming a filthy, indescribable stain.

Ms. Yamada's body was now completely defiled. Her fair back was covered in grime from the floor, her chest and abdomen were smeared with saliva and mucus, her inner thighs were soaked with a mixture of bodily fluids, and her black pubic hair was stained with a mixture of semen and vaginal fluid. There were still remnants of grayish-white tissue at the corners of her mouth, which were slowly retreating into her oral cavity, leaving behind some transparent mucus traces.

Misaki looked up, a trace of clear saliva still clinging to the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and swallowed the saliva. Then she looked at Yuuma, her eyes filled with satisfaction.

“Now…” Misaki began, her voice soft but clear, “it’s my turn.”

Misaki helped Yuuma up from Yamada-sensei. Yuuma's legs were completely weak, and he could barely stand. Misaki supported him, letting him lean against her. Her body was soft and warm, the skin encased in black pantyhose warm and supple—though those pantyhose were now completely ruined.

"Can we continue?" Misaki asked, her voice filled with concern—that was the tone that Sato Misaki should have, but Yuuma knew that it was just an act.

"I...I don't know..." Yuzhen gasped. His body had reached its limit; his back ached, his thighs were trembling, and although his penis was still semi-erect, it felt numb.

"It's alright." Misaki smiled gently. "This is the last one. After this... you can rest."

She led Yuzhen to the sofa and made him sit down. The sofa was soft, but you could feel the firmness of the springs underneath. The sofa fabric was beige, and now it was stained with various stains—the semen and vaginal fluid from before, the dust they had brought with them, and their sweat.

Misaki didn't sit down, but knelt before Yuuma. Her knees, clad in black pantyhose, touched the dirty ground again—the ground was now covered not only in dust and grime, but also in the mixed bodily fluids left by everyone before. The viscous liquid clung to her pantyhose knees, instantly forming dark stains.

She looked up at Yuuma, then opened her mouth and took his penis, which had just ejaculated and was still covered in Yamada-sensei's vaginal fluids and semen, into her mouth.

Warm, moist, and firm.

But this time, Yuuma could barely feel any pleasure. His body was numb, leaving only exhaustion and... a strange sense of satisfaction.

Misaki began to swallow and spit. Her technique was excellent; her tongue skillfully licked every sensitive spot on the glans, her lips tightly enveloped the shaft, and her throat rhythmically contracted. But Yuuma's penis only became slightly erect, not fully hard.

"It's okay." Misaki spat out the penis and looked up at Yuuma. "Don't **** yourself."

She stood up, turned her back to Yuuma, and then bent over, placing her hands on the sofa armrests. This position made her buttocks stick out high, and the contours of her flesh, encased in black pantyhose, were clearly visible. The crotch of the pantyhose was completely soaked, with dark stains running from her vaginal opening down to her groin.

“From behind…” Misaki whispered, “for the last time.”

Yuuma stood up and walked behind her. His legs were weak, and every step was difficult. He stood behind Misaki, his penis pressed against the wet area at the crotch of her pantyhose.

He thrust his hips forward, and his penis entered Misaki's vagina.

Without the pantyhose in between, this time it was direct insertion. The penis was completely submerged in that warm passage.

Misaki's vagina was tight, hot, and wet. Yuuma began to slowly thrust in and out, his penis moving in and out of her vagina. Each thrust brought out a mixture of fluids—Misaki's own vaginal fluid, the semen that remained inside Yamada-sensei, and the semen that Yuuma had just ejaculated and hadn't completely drained.

The liquid was smeared on the area where the two were joined, flowing down Misaki's thighs and soaking the crotch of her black pantyhose. The nylon fibers of the pantyhose became transparent due to the liquid, clinging tightly to her skin and outlining the contours of her genitals.

"Ah... Yuuma... this is the last time..." Misaki gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure, "Remember... this feeling..."

Yuzhen didn't answer. He just kept thrusting mechanically, his body numb, only instinctive movements remaining.

Ayako, Aoi, and Ms. Yamada gathered around. They knelt beside Misaki and began kissing her body. Ayako kissed her back, Aoi kissed her buttocks, and Ms. Yamada kissed her thighs.

Four women—four bodies, four identities—are connected for the last time.

Yuma could feel the tightness and warmth of Misaki's vagina, the softness of Ayako's lips, the flexibility of Aoi's tongue, and the delicacy of Yamada-sensei's fingers.

He could smell four different body odors—the sweet, fishy smell of Misaki's vaginal secretions, the scent of laundry detergent on Ayako, the smell of shampoo on Aoi, and the perfume on Yamada-sensei. But beneath these odors, there was also that familiar smell of Stardust's own slime. The four scents blended together to create a dizzying, almost suffocatingly strong aroma.

"Ah... I'm coming..." Misaki screamed, her body tense like a bowstring, "The last time... with Yuuma... climax..."

Her vaginal walls began to spasm violently, and a warm liquid gushed from deep within—it was orgasmic fluid, a special liquid mixed with her own body fluids, with a slightly humid smell. The liquid gushed out in large quantities, flowing down from where the two were joined, soaking the black pantyhose on Misaki's inner thighs, and also wetting Yuuma's lower abdomen.

The stimulation of the climax brought Yuuma to his limit. His waist convulsed violently, and his semen shot into the depths of Misaki's vagina in spurts.

This ejaculation was weak and short-lived. Yuuma's body had reached its limit, and the amount of semen he ejaculated was small and thin. But he could feel that the semen was completely absorbed by Misaki's vagina.

After the last drop of semen was ejaculated, Yuuma went limp and collapsed onto Misaki's back. Misaki also went limp, her hands gripping the sofa armrests as she gasped for breath. Her body was still trembling slightly, and her vagina was still contracting rhythmically, as if squeezing out the last bit of semen.

A mixture of fluids gushed from where the two were joined, running down Misaki's thighs and soaking her calves in black pantyhose. The nylon of the pantyhose was now completely ruined—the knees were stained with grime, the crotch was soaked with bodily fluids, her calves were wet from the dripping liquid, and the cuffs were loose and frayed.

Misaki's school uniform shirt was also covered in all sorts of grime. There were dark water stains left by Yuuma's sweat on the back, the armpits were soaked with sweat, and the collar was stained with a mixture of saliva and mucus. Most noticeably, the hem of her skirt was now covered in dust, bodily fluids, and mucus, with even black stains from the floor smeared along the edges.

Ayako, Aoi, and Ms. Yamada collapsed onto the floor. They were all almost naked, covered in all sorts of filth, their pantyhose or stockings completely ruined, and their bodies covered in hickeys, scratches, and traces of semen.

The living room was a mess. The floor was covered in stains, the sofa was stained with bodily fluids, and the air was thick with odors—the fishy smell of semen, the sweet fishy smell of vaginal fluid, the sour smell of sweat, the earthy smell of dust, and the unique, slightly humus-like scent of Stardust's own mucus.

Four women—four bodies, four identities—lay on the floor, panting heavily. Their eyes remained the same—stardust's eyes, filled with possessiveness, control, and an almost insane love.

But at this moment, there was a hint of...satisfaction in his eyes.

Yuuma lay on Misaki's back, his consciousness hovering on the edge of exhaustion and satisfaction. He could feel the warmth of Misaki's body seeping through her sweat-soaked school uniform shirt, and he could hear the rhythm of her heartbeat—steady and regular, not at all like someone who had just experienced intense sex. In fact, the heartbeats of the four women were almost synchronized in the quiet living room, creating a strange resonance.

"It's over," Misaki said softly, her voice calm and languid.

She slowly straightened up, and Yuuma's body slid off her back, which she caught as she turned around. Her movements were steady, not at all like the weakness one would expect from a woman who had just had an orgasm. In fact, all four women began to move at the same time—Ayako propped herself up, Aoi sat up, and Yamada-sensei also got up from the floor.

Their movements were perfectly coordinated, like a rehearsed dance. Four bodies, four identities, yet their rhythm was perfectly synchronized. Watching this scene, Yuuma felt a strange sensation welling up inside her—these weren't four separate individuals, but rather one being acting in four bodies.

Misaki helped Yuuma sit down on the sofa. The sofa was soft, but the fabric was soaked with various bodily fluids, making it sticky to the touch. Yuuma looked down and saw that the beige sofa cover was covered with dark stains—the pale yellow of semen, the transparent of vaginal fluid, the grayish-black of dust, and the milky white of stardust's own mucus. These colors mixed together, forming dirty, difficult-to-clean marks.

Ayako walked over and knelt in front of Yuuma. She held a damp towel in her hand—it was a clean white towel, but it would soon be soiled, though she didn't know when she had prepared it. She began to carefully wipe Yuuma's body, starting from his face, then his neck, chest, abdomen, and finally his penis.

Her movements were gentle and meticulous, like a mother bathing her baby. But Yuu knew this wasn't maternal tenderness, but rather... the cleansing of an possessor. Like an owner cleaning their possessions, ensuring they remain clean for future use.

The towel was quickly stained with all sorts of grime. The white cloth was covered in a mixture of semen, vaginal fluid, dust, and mucus, turning a dirty grayish-yellow. Ayako didn't care; she continued wiping until Yuuma's body was mostly clean.

Then she began to wipe herself. But she did it casually—just wiping her face and hands with a towel, barely touching the mixture of semen, vaginal fluid, dirt, and sticky fluid on her body. Her flesh-colored pantyhose were still stained, and her bra and panties were still soaked, but she didn't seem to intend to change them.

Aoi and Ms. Yamada were doing the same thing. Aoi used another damp towel to wipe Misaki's body, her movements equally gentle and careful. Ms. Yamada, on the other hand, was wiping Ayako's body. The four women cleaned each other, forming a cycle.

Yuma watched this scene, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her. The scene was intimate, warm, yet also... eerie. Four almost naked women, covered in filth, were wiping each other's bodies, their movements synchronized as if they were one person.

"What are you thinking about?" Misaki asked, sitting next to Yuuma with her head resting on his shoulder. Her hair was still wet, damp with sweat and sticky fluid, giving off a mixed smell.

"It's nothing," Yuma said softly.

“You’re lying.” Misaki laughed, her fingers lightly tracing Yuuma’s chest. “You’re probably thinking… this is weird, isn’t it? Four women, one man, a crazy sex session, and then cleaning each other up.”

Yuma didn't say anything.

“But Yuuma,” Misaki’s voice was soft but clear, “you must remember this. This isn’t four women. This is one being, loving you with four bodies. This isn’t crazy sex, this is… a feast. This is our gift to you.”

She paused, then looked up at Yuuma.

“And,” she said, her voice tinged with laughter, “this won’t be the last. There will be more in the future. More bodies, more identities, more… feasts.”

Yuuma looked at her, at those noble and beautiful eyes that belonged to Sato Misaki, but with the possessive and controlling look of Stardust. He suddenly felt a chill—not fear, but… a premonition.

“More?” he repeated.

“Mmm.” Misaki nodded, her fingers gently circling Yuuma’s chest. “Your semen… nourishes my penis. Every time you ejaculate inside me, my power increases, my control becomes more stable, and my penis… becomes more numerous.”

She paused, looking at Yuuma.

“So you see,” she said, her voice soft but each word clear, “our relationship…is mutually beneficial. You give me semen, I give you…everything. Protection, care, pleasure, and…love.”

Her lips pressed against Yuzhen's, giving him a tender kiss. The kiss was brief but deep, carrying the taste of semen and saliva, the taste of possession and promise.

Ayako, Aoi, and Ms. Yamada also joined in. They surrounded the sofa, looking at Yuuma, their four pairs of eyes shining with the same light.

“We will always be with you,” Ayako said, her voice as gentle as warm milk.

“At school, at home, anywhere,” Aoi said, her voice soft but clear.

“Using different identities and different methods,” said Ms. Yamada, her voice carrying the unique authority of a teacher.

“Forever,” Misaki said, her fingers intertwining with Yuuma’s. “Forever.”

Four voices, four bodies, but speaking the same words and expressing the same emotion.

Yuuma looked at them, at these four different faces, at these four identical eyes. He suddenly understood—he had no way out. From the first time Stardust controlled Sato Misaki's body to get close to him, from the first time he ejaculated inside her in the equipment room, from the first time she said "You are mine"... he had been deeply trapped, unable to extricate himself.

Now, this relationship is no longer simply about possession and control. It has become... something deeper, something more complex. A cage built with multiple identities, a love expressed through different bodies, a possession proven by filth and bodily fluids.

“I…” Yuzhen began, but didn’t know what to say.

“No need to speak,” Misaki said softly, her fingers gently pressing against Yuuma’s lips. “We understand.”

She stood up and began to dress. But her clothes were so filthy they were unwearable—her school uniform jacket was covered in dust, her shirt in bodily fluids, and her skirt stained with dirt. But she didn't care; she simply put on those dirty clothes, her movements calm and natural.

Ayako, Aoi, and Ms. Yamada were doing the same thing. They put on their filthy clothes, their movements as coordinated as if they were one person. Soon, all four women were dressed—though the clothes were filthy beyond recognition.

Misaki walked up to Yuuma, bent down, and gently kissed his forehead.

“We should go,” she said gently. “Aunt Ayako has to go home to cook, Class President Aoi has to go home to do her homework, Teacher Yamada has to go home to prepare lessons, and I… have to go back to the Sato family’s house for dinner.”

She paused, looking at Yuuma.

“But you must remember,” she said, her voice soft but clear, “that we are always here. By your side, in your heart, in your… body.”

She turned and left. Ayako, Aoi, and Ms. Yamada followed her. Four women—four identities—walked out of the living room, out of the entryway, and out the door.

The door closed slowly.

Yuzhen sat alone on the sofa, staring at the empty living room. Stains lingered on the floor, bodily fluids covered the sofa, and a pungent odor filled the air. All of this proved that what had just happened wasn't a dream, but a real, insane, and filthy reality.

He looked down at his body. Ayako had wiped him with a damp towel, and he was mostly clean now. But his penis was still slightly red, a sign of overuse. His lower back ached, his thighs trembled, and his whole body felt exhausted.

But inside, he was very calm.

A strange, distorted calm.

He knew this was wrong, that this relationship was abnormal, and that Stardust's possessiveness and controlling nature had gone beyond normal limits. But he also knew what his life was like before Stardust appeared.

Loneliness, helplessness, being bullied, being ignored.

And now...

Now he has people protecting him, people caring for him, people loving him in different identities, and people giving him pleasure with different bodies.

Even if this love is twisted, even if this pleasure is filthy, even if this relationship is... insane.

But he has already accepted it.

Completely, utterly, and irrevocably accepted it.

He stood up, his legs still a little weak. He walked to the window and drew back the curtains. It was completely dark outside, and the streetlights were on, casting a dim, yellowish glow in the night.

He saw four figures part ways on the street—Misaki walked to the left, Ayako to the right, Aoi to the front, and Yamada-sensei to the other. Four different directions, four different identities, four different lives.

But Yu-chan knew that was just an appearance.

Beneath those different appearances lies the same existence. The same consciousness. The same... stardust.

He watched those figures disappear into the night, a complex emotion welling up inside him. It wasn't fear, unease, or regret.

Instead, it's about...expectation.

Looking forward to our next meeting.

Looking forward to the next grand event.

Looking forward to the next... love.

He drew the curtains, turned, and walked back into the living room. The stains on the floor were glaringly obvious under the light, but he didn't clean them immediately. He just stood there, looking at the stains, at the traces that proved his recent madness.

Then he laughed.

It was a tired, helpless smile, but also with a hint of... satisfaction.

He knew that from this day forward, his life would be forever changed.

No longer lonely, no longer helpless, no longer... normal.

Instead, it is surrounded by multiple identities, loved by different bodies, and completely possessed by one being.

He knew this was wrong.

But he also knew that he... no longer wanted to go back to the past.

I never want to.

He walked to the sofa and lay down. The sofa was soft, and although it was stained with bodily fluids, he didn't care. He closed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion in his body, the peace in his heart, and that twisted satisfaction.

Outside the window, the night was deepening.

The smell of semen and vaginal fluid slowly dissipated in the room, but the aura of possessiveness and control remained forever.

I stayed in this room.

It remained inside his body.

It remained in his...heart.

---

**postscript**

The next morning, Yuzhen woke up on time thanks to his biological clock. He opened his eyes, staring at the familiar ceiling, his mind still reeling from the chaotic memories of the previous night—four women, four identities, a frenzied feast.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. The room was quiet, with only the occasional chirping of birds outside the window. Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, casting golden dappled patterns on the floor.

Then he smelled the fragrance.

It didn't taste like instant noodles, nor did it taste like a simple breakfast I made myself. It was... the aroma of crispy fried bacon, the wheaty scent of toasted bread, and the rich fragrance of coffee.

Yuzhen froze. He threw back the covers, got out of bed, and walked barefoot onto the wooden floor towards the door. The aroma grew stronger, wafting from the kitchen downstairs.

He went down the stairs and into the living room. Breakfast was already laid out on the table—two white porcelain plates, each with perfectly fried bacon and eggs, two slices of golden-brown toast, and a small vegetable salad. In the center of the table sat a small glass pitcher filled with steaming coffee. There was also a glass of orange juice, with fresh orange slices floating on the rim.

But the most eye-catching thing was the note in the center of the table.

A pale pink sticky note with delicate patterns along the edges, on which words were written in flowing black ink. The handwriting was beautiful, a woman's handwriting.

Yuma picked up the note and read it aloud:

“Yuma:

Good morning.

I came early to prepare breakfast. The bacon was fried a little browned, the eggs were fried on one side, and the yolks were runny—these were things I remembered from your memory; that's how your mother used to make them.

I brew the coffee quite strong. If you don't like it that way, you can add milk and sugar, which are all in the kitchen cabinet.

This body has some things to take care of today, so I can't have breakfast with you. But I'll wait for you at the school gate after school this afternoon.

Remember to eat well.

Remember to think of me.

—Forever yours, Stardust

There was also a small heart in the bottom right corner of the note, drawn with a red pen. It was very delicate and showed great care.

Yuzhen stood there holding the note, not moving for a long time.

He could feel a warm current welling up inside him, a complex and contradictory feeling. On one hand, he was grateful for Stardust's care, grateful that she made him breakfast, grateful that she remembered the taste from his memory. On the other hand, he also felt a kind of... pressure. Stardust's care was too comprehensive, too meticulous, too... possessive.

But in the end, gratitude overcame unease.

He walked to the table, sat down, picked up his knife and fork, and began to eat breakfast.

The bacon was indeed fried to a perfect crisp, with curled edges and the fat rendered out, resulting in a fragrant but not greasy taste. The egg was fried on one side only, with the white perfectly set and the yolk intact and plump. A gentle poke with a fork released the golden yolk, which flowed out and soaked into the toast. The toast was toasted to perfection, slightly charred on the surface and soft on the inside. Spread with butter, the savory aroma of the butter and the wheat flavor of the toast blended perfectly.

The coffee was indeed very strong. Yuzhen added a little milk and sugar, which made the flavor rich and balanced.

He ate slowly, savoring each bite. It was indeed the taste he remembered, the breakfast his mother often made when he was a child.

But there are some differences—the breakfasts her mother makes always feel rushed because she has to get to work; while the breakfasts Stardust makes are meticulous and… persistent in every detail.

After finishing breakfast, Yuzhen cleaned up the dishes, washed them, and put them back in their place. He looked at the pink note, hesitated for a moment, and finally folded it neatly and put it in the inner pocket of his backpack.

Then he went upstairs to change into his school uniform, packed his schoolbag, and prepared to go to school.

Before leaving, he glanced back at the dining table. It was now spotless, as if nothing had happened. But the aroma of breakfast lingered in the air, along with the feeling of it having been carefully tended.

Yuma closed the door and headed towards school.

He had no idea what would happen today.

But he knew that Stardust was watching him.

Even when she wasn't physically present, she was somehow watching over everything he did.

Using different identities, different bodies, and different methods.

forever.