Sensei is so proud of you
*link for the full erotic video at the end*
Description: an erotic tale - a forbidden love between sensei Soojiro and his former studend, Yue, now a master sword fighter like him, bloossoms under the wisterias. They have been able to contain the burning passion that lingers thick like honey between them until now, but a tempting oportunity to quench the thirst may prove too good to be wasted.
Words: 6,914 (69, eh? what a perfect sign of the Gods...)
Tags: demon slayer roleplay (no previous knowledge of the anime is requiered to enjoy the text), sensei/former student, original characters
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Sensei is so proud of you
Her curls slid through the comb´s teeth like a dark river through the rocks. Yue was dressed in a pink yukata tied loosely around her waist, a leg escaping out of it as she sunbathed in the headquarters of the Demon Slayers, a military facility dedicated to protect people from the bloodthirsty demons that roamed Japan.
She was a Hashira, a title given to the master swordsman or woman that dedicated their lives to that dangerous task, and she had just returned from a mission: hunting down a demon that was terrorizing a village of fishermen.
The headquarters were empty, except for the crew that helped the Hashira to maintain the facility and for Kagaya Ubuyashiki, their leader, but he was in his mansion with his family, up on the hill. All other swordsmen were out on hunting missions as well, and, as it seemed, Yue was the first to have returned. All alone, she took the opportunity to restore her strength enjoying the spring sun and combing her hair while reading some scribbled words for a poem she had been working on – another big passion the woman cultivated.
A word that means bold, but also shameless… blazing, brass, blatant…, she thought to herself, but the soft sound of steps reached her ear. That calming tempo, that paced walk.
No… Could it be?
She raised her eyes to the gate of the headquarters and saw Soojiro, the Hashira known for his technique with the sword that made him look like he was dancing amidst the enemies’ strikes, granting him the title of “Music Hashira”.
Yue´s heart raced with excitement to the sight of the man. She left the comb and the scribbles on the porch that circulated the main house, where she was sunbathing, and stood up, fixing her yukata so it covered the band that sustained her breasts. As she ran to him, Soojiro opened a big smile watching his former student coming. Yue noted that he was wearing a light, blue coat she never saw before, but without giving it much attention, she stopped two steps before him and bowed.
“Sensei!”
“You don't need to call me sensei, anymore.”, he chuckled. “You are a Hashira, now. Just like me. The Words Hashira.”
She straightened her body.
"Are you hurt?"
"I am fine. What about you?"
"I am fine as well, sensei.", she said, making the man laugh to the sound of that word again. "I thought I would be alone in the headquarters for another week before anyone returned!"
"Are you that sad to see me?", he raised an eyebrow and Yue looked down; a slight red tinting her cheeks.
“I am very happy to see you.”
The Music Hashira relaxed, as if only after hearing those words he had truly returned home.
“Come. Let´s sit again. I saw you were enjoying the sun.”
“Don't you want to get some rest?”
“I can take some time with you.”
Soojiro touched her back, conducting her to the porch, and Yue felt a heat that no spring or summer sun could ever give to her.
They sat beside each other. Soojiro glanced at the comb and the scribbled words.
“You were writing! And combing your hair.”
He raised the comb in the air. It was brown, engraved with dainty roses.
“May I?”
Yue nodded, turning her back to him. She closed her eyes to pay attention to that sudden blessing that had come into her day: to have her sensei Soojiro combing her hair. Although she was not strange to his touch, for it happened naturally during combat training, it was another thing to have his softness directed to her – the softness of a man so capable of destruction. The sweet pressure, the ticklish pull massaging thousands of points on her scalp at the same time... And his presence: his strong and cradling energy that she could distinguish even with her eyes closed.
“Blazing, brass, blatant… What were you writing about?”, asked Soojiro.
“It is a poem about a storm.”
“A storm? And how is this storm of ours?”
“Fierce, fair… Dutiful and all embracing.”
“A little bit blatant, though…”
Yue smiled.
“A little bit.”
She coiled up, her shoulders caving in with a feeling Soojiro could spot as sweetness. This had always dazzled him about Yue. How could a soul have seen so much violence, so much sadness, and still have sweetness blooming inside of her? How could she find beauty enough to harvest endless poems in a life of repairing the broken and mending the damaged - harms done by ones with a heart far less beautiful than hers?
“How was your first mission as a Hashira?”, he continued. “Very good, from what I can see.”
She did not answer straight away.
“Mhmm, it was…”
“Yes?”, he encouraged.
“Easy… It was easy.”, she paused, contemplating something. “You taught me well, sensei.”
“You’ve learned well, Yue. It's easy to be a teacher with a student like you. Did the demon hit you?”
“She did not.”
“A she?”
“Yes. Her name was Yua.”, she answered with a soft voice, melancholy ingraining it. Soojiro stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. She shook her head slightly. “A name so close to mine…”, she added, looking at her own hands. “I think the Gods were trying to show me something.”
“And what was it?”
“Mercy. A sign to remember that those that today are demons once were people with dreams and sorrows of their own. A reminder to always have respect.”
“That is very noble of you, Yue.”
“I have hunted down demons before, but it seemed more fair, in a way, when I was an apprentice. When I got to the village and saw Yua, she was in a shack, hiding behind some fishing equipments. She seemed scared, and weak. It felt like cutting the neck of a duckling.”
Soojiro´s brows arched to the weight of those words. He stopped combing and felt like pulling her close and lulling her on his chest.
“Above everything else,”, she continued, “It is to remove this feeling in the moment of battle that hurts me the most. When fighting, I cannot have the luxury of second-guessing, and mercy is always second-guessing. Never have I thought that becoming a better swordswoman would bring me this feeling. Of cowardice. What if I commit a mistake, sensei? It worries me. What if I misjudge a situation and cannot spare someone that could be spared?”
“I demon cannot be spared.”
“But Nezuko…”
“She is an exception. I doubt we will ever meet someone like her again. But if it ever happens, if your blade ever takes a demon you felt like you could spare, then we talk about it together. We will look at every aspect of it and unwind everything. When in battle, you strike. Alright?”
She nodded slowly.
“Alright.”
“In our profession, we are forced to deal with internal conflicts in a level most people never will. When it gets hard, remember why you are doing it: because you swore to be a protector of people, to bear the burden so they didn’t have to, and second-guessing in a crucial battle may mean the death of innocent civilians. When the weight is too much, I want you to come to me so I can help you to shoulder it. I was not your sensei just to train your body, but also your mind, and companionship is to the soul what food and rest are to the body.”
Yue breathed in deeply.
“Thank you.”
“Promise you will protect yourself. That when fighting you will do everything in your power to stay alive. Your life is not less precious than the one of a possibly redeemable demon.”
“I promise.”
“Very good.”, he started combing her hair again.
“Which form did you use to win?”
“First form.”
“Only the first one?”
“It was enough.”
He glanced at her. A slight smile could be seen from behind, by her cheeks raised like soft hills. Amidst the gloom she felt about the mission, Soojiro could tell there was something else; something joyful, something surprised: she was impressed with herself.
The Music Hashira sighed with a smile. Yue was a woman of her own. She had been one for quite a while, but now she had a prestigious title to prove it. He wondered how his former student would get accustomed with the new idea of leadership and power. Soojiro watched her soft profile against the evening sun, again: a graceful creature with a heart he regarded as far better than his own. Sensei admired her so much. Each time he combed her hair, her neck was exposed for just a fraction of a second. That long, elegant neck. As he watched her skin appearing and disappearing again and again behind her curls, he felt the urge to reach out and touch her there.
A full month stalking a demon and exchanging not more than a couple of words with villagers had left Soojiro craving for human contact. And to find Yue before anyone else… That was just Destiny being humorous.
One night during the hunt, camping on an improvised hideout on top of a tree, Soojiro set his sword aside and stroked his bulge, that was impatiently demanding attention since he left the village to gather some clues. He had done his best to avoid the disgrace of being seen aroused by the locals, holding his sword in convenient angles, but in his mind there was only one name, pulsating in the rhythm of his blood flow:
Yue.
He had found a good place to camp in the woods and started breaking sticks to build the lookout, groaning and giving his hardness a rub through his pants ever between two tasks.
Yue, Yue…
Soojiro remained in this trance during the whole process of making the platform, and when he finally finished it, he was in throbbing pain in the constriction of his pants. When he sat on the hideout and opened it finally, Soojiro saw that he was oozing on his uniform. He worked and pulled and squeezed his length with both hands, picturing her hips bouncing and her adorable little mouth moaning for him until he shot three times with Yue´s name on his lips.
A secret release that was far from being the first time.
Now she was standing there in front of him, and few things are as tempting as an opportunity for something long desired. Succumbing to a small indulgence, Soojiro dipped his fingers directly through Yue's hair, arching them up and using them as a comb; pulling slow, slow and steady, until her curls fell again cascading on her back.
“You make me so proud, Yue.”
Goosebumps climbed up her neck and arms. She felt that all-embracing energy around her, pulling her in, and stood silent; the subtle message of his gesture heating up her body: I want to touch you.
Sensei wants to touch me.
And I want to touch him, too.
In that moment of stillness in their dangerous lives, when the poignant truth began to leak out, while the wisterias painted the wind purple with their petals, Yue perceived the window of time that they had in their hands. Nobody needed to know. They could pretend that nothing happened, they could pretend that he didn't arrive until next week. She could keep a secret. Just ask me, just ask me now.
"What brings you here so soon?", said Yue, rubbing her feet together and sliding her hand a little bit closer to him, as a sign for him to advance. Soojiro leaned forward, placing his own hand next to hers and letting them brush together. His face was so close to her shoulder that he could taste her scent. Yue felt his paced breath softly blowing on her yukata, like the wind guiding colorful petals to their destiny. She leaned back just a little bit... Just enough so her shoulder would touch his lips, as an accident.
"The simple accomplishment of the task.”, he answered; his lips feathering Yue. “The demon is beheaded and the northern rice fields are safe. Well, and this little inconvenience.”
Yue heard the sound of fabric moving behind her. Her heart raced, but when she turned around, Soojiro had stripped down the blue robe revealing a large cut on the right side of his uniform. Yue looked at him wide-eyed.
“Don’t worry about it.”, he tranquilized, “It’s superficial.
“You said you were fine!”
“I am… And wanted to sit here with you for a moment. It’s just a scratch.”
She bent closer and took a look at the wound: it seemed like it was not very deep, only large, starting from the side of his body and going up in the direction of his back.
“You should have shown it to me.”
Soojiro smiled.
“My new outfit hid it well, didn’t it?”
Yue smiled too, facing up.
“Where did you get it?”
“A small token of gratitude from the leader of the village. He said it would protect the cut during the walk home.”
Yue caressed the brim of the robe between her fingers, close to his belly.
“I like you in blue.”
“Do you, now?”
She didn't look directly at him, but she could see the smile. Her whole body felt hot and yet that unbearable impulse to come closer. However, she examined the cut, again. That ominous sight: sensei Soojiro had been hit. As unrealistic as it was, the possibility didn't even exist in her mind before. She had seen him going out for missions maybe close to fifty times and he always came back without a scratch. He was fast, strong and strategic; his abilities made him untouchable. Now, looking at the ugly cut, Yue could see he was human, just like her, and as a human he could be hurt. He could feel pain. He could suffer… And could be killed. Fear of losing him made her stomach heavy.
“How did it happen?”
“Nothing exceptional. The demon was fast and managed to deliver a fair blow.”
“But…”, she frowned, “How? You are the Music Hashira! You dance between the enemies’ strikes!”
“I guess I was feeling like dancing to other melodies that day. ”
She looked at him and found him still smiling, now with a neutral sincerity in his eyes. But although he tried to show normality and even a little bit of humor, Yue knew in her heart that it was a confession. He was distracted because he was thinking of her. She was the melody he wanted to dance to.
Her heart grieved. She could not have him, could she? Could she put him in danger like that? The Hashira could find love, of course. Lord Uzui had three wives, after all. But she shared a bond with Soojiro that started as a teacher and a student, and therefore they would be considered an inappropriated pairing. They had been experiencing temptation for years, silently searching for satiation on small touches, crafted accidental meetings at the headquarter’s quietest areas where they could talk and sweet and attentive gazes in a crowded room, as if to say, I'm listening to you, I'm paying attention. One day, Yue had casually communicated to all the Hashira, as they sat together to eat dinner, that she was going for a bath. She bowed, excusing herself, and without looking at Soojiro she left, knowing he would understand what she had just done.
At the bathroom, Yue stripped slowly with her back to the door - the door she had left conveniently open just enough to fit an eye. She didn’t look back once. It was important to keep things under control, under the possibility of it all being an accident. But as she kneeled in the tub and soaped her neck, her back and the curve of her waist up, she felt the eyes of Soojiro burning on her skin.
As his student, she naturally remained as a forbidden thing. But now that she was a Hashira like him, it angered her that she still lied outside of his possibilities. Soojiro had gloomily hinted at that on a certain night with a story about a hare and a hunter. He had said that Miss Kanao Shinobu told him this tale of a hunter that fell in love with a hare, and although the hare seemed to like him back, all the other huntsmen agreed that she only loved him through the metal teeth of the trap he had set for her. Yue could not look at Miss Kanao for a full week.
Permanently out of his reach, and yet so, so torturously close, she was destined to be a temptation, and a temptation, way more than a consumed love, is a melody that can pull one’s attention far away from the battle.
Yue fell back into the dark mindspace that sent her to sleep many nights with tears in her eyes after dripping with fulfilled pleasure to the thoughts of Soojiro warming her up in bed. She looked down, defeated.
“Was it a demonic blade?”, she just asked.
“No. It was a common reaping hook he found lying around. It is not infected. It was also made four days ago, so it is already starting to heal.”
“That’s good.”, she nodded. “We still will have to take you to the medical center. They will apply a paste to help it close faster and wrap it up to keep it protected. Come, let's go.”
Yue stood up with hurry and determination, but Soojiro held her arm.
“Yue.”, he waited for her to look at him, “I was wondering if you could do it for me yourself.”
He closed his hand around her arm tighter: enough for it to mean something, but not as much to make it obvious, as was common in their world of What Ifs, in their game of shadows. It made her shiver. She craved that grip around her whole body. Yue could not move, and Soojiro gave the solution: a little tease.
“That is… Unless you have forgotten your medical training now that you became the Words Hashira.”
She looked at him again, a cheeky smile on her face. The Music Hashira had shown faith in her and trained her after seeing potential in the headquarters’ nurse while she secretly practised with a wooden blade after everybody else on the medical corps was sleeping. Though every other Hashira said she was too old to start a demon slayer training, he took the matter into his own hands, with the permission of Ubuyashiki, and trained her to her full potential. One new moon night, she bloomed under his tutoring with a new technique, combining her talent with the sword and as a poet: Words Breath, a wielding style that involved a flexible wrist and fluid motion, mimicking the movements of a writing brush in shodo. To everybody's surprise, except Soojiro´s, the nurse and poet became a swordswoman and elite demon slayer: a Hashira, and for that she was profoundly grateful to him.
Yue placed her free hand on her hips, taking the way out of he had just offered:
"Of course I remember everything."
He let go of her arm and stood up, following her to her mansion’s office, a room where Yue had poems pasted onto the walls and did most of her intellectual work. She said he could wait there while she went to the medical center to get the needed supplies. She entered and got out without anyone noticing - another ability developed during her training. Yue wanted to avoid raising the flag that the Music Hashira was back and moreover, that he needed assistance. They could enjoy some privacy. When she came back with the supplies, she found Soojiro reading one poem that laid close to the mattress of sheep skin Yue kept there. He had a smile on his face.
“The storm approaches the rice fields/ A thousand drops come down like blades to the hearts of foes/ But like kisses to the land that have been/ Patiently waiting for the storm/Just like me.”.
Yue pointed to her desk, feeling like she could very well be visibly steaming. "Sit here, please."
The Music Hashira kept grinning with a know-it-all shimmer on his eyes. When he was passing right next to her, he looked in her eyes and whispered:
“Yes ma’am…”
She gulped. There is something very refined and subtle about someone that could very well outpower you and that you respect profoundly calling you by a title. It is a playful lie that both parties are well aware of that simultaneously asserts the power of the one that says it and the love that they have for you: a love big enough to make them tip their hats, bend the knee - choose to bow. In Soojiro’s case, Yue also felt another thing in that intimate split second: that he recognized her as someone of great power as well. It was not just a lie, but a tease. The idea of being ranked so high still was one that confused Yue, and right there, right then, she knew that her former sensei had perceived it too - and wanted to ignite that fire in her belly.
Soojiro sat on the tall desk, occidental style, beside some books and a brush still wet with nanquim. He placed the poem about the storm right there, next to his left hand. Yue began to grind a combination of herbs in a stone mortar to prepare a protective paste to help the cicatrization of the cut. She did it without a hurry, basking under his gaze, enjoying the one thing that was only theirs and that nobody could take away: their What If. As she pressed on the herbs, the agitation slowly dissipated and something thicker like honey began to linger between them: a possibility.
Yue looked up to him. The dark eyes of her teacher, and now colleague.
“I will need you to take off your uniform.”
Without averting his gaze, Soojiro unbuttoned the shirt taking his sweet time, letting the honey thicken even more. When each side of the uniform hung around his body, Yue dipped her fingers in the mixture and applied it to the wound, only with the tips. A wave of electricity pulsated through his body. Finally, finally. I like it when you touch me, Yue, was what he wanted to say. I like it very much.
“Does it burn?”
“It is fine.” Keep touching me.
“I am glad you are here, sensei.”
“As I am to have you close.” Keep touching me. I missed you.
“Were the rice fields ripe?”
“Soppy. They have just received the seeds.”
“Pretty.”
“It is very pretty.” Keep touching me… Touch me more. Yue came a millimetre closer. The honey thickens.
“I would like to see the northern fields.”
“Maybe our next mission can take us there.”
“Us?”
“Considering the results, I might need some help from the Words Hashira.”
Again that fire in her belly; the wind carrying the colorful petals to their bright destiny. She wetted her lips. Soojiro watched it avidly.
“Have you always had a special fondness for rice fields? It is the theme of a beautiful poem I read recently."
“Maybe it is the spring affecting me.”
“Inspiration comes from somewhere way below, doesn’t it? Somewhere deep inside of us.”, she laid her four fingers on his side, sliding them on Soojiro´s muscles. He felt himself getting warmer between his legs. “I was wondering about your core inspiration to write such a piece.”
“What are your guesses?”
“I was wondering… Could that storm be metaphorical?”
She came closer another millimetre, her full hand, fingers and palm, now rubbing her teacher.
“Could it represent something, or maybe someone?”
“It's a literal poem…”
“About a literal storm…
“A batlant storm…”, she added.
“...And a literal land, wanting to be kissed.”
He paused. Yue let her hand rest on his lower belly; an explicit touch that could not be motivated by anything other than desire. Soojiro throbbed, and Yue saw it. She gazed at him with pleading eyes. He leaned closer.
“Is that about me, Words Hashira?"
Her mouth lingered open. Soojiro extended his hand and caressed her face.
“Sensei…”
His eyes alternated between her lips, her eyes and the mole beside her lip that he had always wanted to kiss. Soojiro stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“Why do you call me sensei even when I am no longer your teacher?”
"Because that is what you will always be to me.”, she inclined her face on his hand; “Someone to look up to, someone to admire and to learn from. There’s…”, her voice failed as the weight of the suppressed truth was lifted. “There’s no one in this world that I respect more than you."
Soojiro tilted his eyebrows up, overwhelmed with tenderness, and stood up from the desk. He held her face with both of his hands. His lips hovered over hers.
“Yue?”
“Mm?”
“I have been wanting to do this for a long, long time.”
She feathered his face with the tip of her fingers.
“Me too, sensei.”
And in that word Soojiro felt more truth than in his own name: he saw their story together; he saw her growth, he saw their yearning, he saw the waiting. He saw a patient love. He felt that they deserved that. As to say yes to their story, as to accept the beauty that was always there waiting to be unlocked like the spring sun coming out of the cage of dried branches of winter, he pulled her in and took her lips.
Yue closed her eyes. The texture of his lips, his smell… Soojiro pulled her in more and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her freckles, her delightful mole, trying to make up for the years lost. She placed her hands on his shoulders and slid them slowly; her eyes filling up with more with tears each centimetre of his body that greeted her fingers.
They kept hugging, and pressing, and soft kissing, welcoming each other: I’m here, I’m here, I’m finally here. When Soojiro held her waist tight, Yue let out a soft moan and opened her mouth for his tongue to slide in, and he immediately did it; Soojiro was warm, attentive, gentle, sensual, paced. It was better than she had ever fantasized about. Yue quivered when she felt the first caress of her sensei inside of her.
“Yue…”, he murmured, hungry, so hungry, trembling for more.
She could feel the tension of his muscles trying to hold back, trying not to scare her, so she made it easy for him and came even closer, pressing her whole body to his- including her thighs to his hardness. He moaned inside her mouth when he felt Yue touching his manhood. Finally, finally... He caressed her tongue with his again, in a prolonged, slow kiss, taking her warmth inside his mouth and giving his back to hers. Soojiro looked at Yue, searching for permission, which she gave him with adoring eyes. She also wanted more. She was as needy as him.
Soojiro slid his hands to her hips, groping her, experimenting with her voluptuous curves, and moved Yue side to side to rub her against himself. Yue started to slide her hips up and down, claiming more of his shaft. She opened her legs for him to slide his knee between them and sat on sensei's thigh with her sweetest spot being caressed by that delicious pressure. She moaned softly for him again and the Music Hashira held her by the base of her head to bite her lip, while a strong hand went down to grab her round ass. She trembled to that forbidden touch, embracing the man’s neck and burying her face right there. His musk… She licked and sucked the salty sweat, feeling herself pulsate to the taste of her sensei.
“Your wound…”, Yue said, her eyes barely opening. His other hand grabbed her other cheek over the yukata and spread her open, lifting one leg off the ground.
“It's healed enough.”,
“I don't want you to get hurt…”
He tilted her hips back and forward massaging her clit on his hardened cock, the lips of her secret blossom spread and rubbing one on each side of him. She felt the silkish yukata sticking to her.
“You are not going to hurt me… But maybe laying down would be a wise choice.”
Yue smiled at him; playful, happy, making the man melt. They walked together to the mattress with closed eyes, their mouths not separating for a second. Yue then sat on her knees, feeling thrilled to look at Soojiro from below. She laid down. Waiting. feeling more beautiful than she ever felt before. He kneeled slowly and parted her legs open, kissing her foot, her ankle, her leg, until the knee, then bent down on top of her, one arm each side. She fixed her yukata, enjoying her impossible shyness while being under the hardened man.
"Are you sure about that?"
He knew she was not asking about the wound, but Soojiro didn't care about what people would say. Right here, right now, his mouth was watering to the sight of the soft skin of the woman he craved so much revealed by the half-opened yukata. How he had longed for that touch... How he had longed for her tenderness…
"I am.", he held her wrist within his callous hand and kissed the sensitive skin. "I am going to make love to you, now, Yue."
She nodded, her breath short. Sensei held both of her arms together, placing them on top of her head, against the sheepskin, then continued kissing her wrist, coming down through the paler trail on her arm that remained hidden from the sun.
"A secret spot of Words Hashira, held so close to her body... Untouched by the sun nor her enemies. A spot that deserves to be treated with kindness, for a change. The kindness of her sensei."
Soojiro untied the robe slowly, his eyes on hers as her thin fingers met his hands to help. She wanted to be a part of it; of every act with him. A drop of sweetness ran down her cheeks.
He shifted the attention to her breasts, taking in how plump they were under the thin band. Soojiro grabbed one in each hand, filling his palm completely, and fondled them firmly. He teased her nipples between his fingers and between his teeth until they were like two pretty buttons on her band. He licked them over the band, teasing himself with the texture he was about to experience in his mouth. With a constant strenght, Soojiro pulled the band down till it slid completely to Yue's waist, making her breasts bounce back.
The man took one nipple in his mouth and started pulling the other, twisting and turning and making the Words Hashira sing for him her richest and most unintelligible words… Except for one. One that made their blood boil:
“Sensei…”
He brought her breasts together and licked them where the nipples met each other. She embraced him and carved eight red marks on his back. He sucked the nipples together, closing his eyes to savor the taste and the texture of both of her sensitive buttons on his tongue; how he could slide the tip on one, then the other, then right in the middle when he felt one on each side of his tongue. He drooled and slobbered over her, and Yue twisted her body with soft, high-pitched cries.
"I lusted for you many nights." , she confessed.
"Did you?" He bit the tender inner curve of her left breast.
"Yes...", he looked in her eyes pulling her nipples up and twisting them between his index finger and his thumb.
"How was it?" , Soojiro let it go and watched her breast bouncing. He pulled and twisted them again, in the same slow, sensual rhythm.
"I would think of you before bed, and it gave me a warm tickle..."
He released them again, delighted with how fast and squishy they were when bouncing back. "And what did you do about this tickle?". He pulled her once again. Yue desperately rubbed herself on his shaft.
"I touched myself, sensei."
"Where...?”, he squeezed her breasts from the base and jiggled them up and down, looking in her eyes; "Here?", his hand slid between her thighs and he pressed two fingers against her slit, completely naked behind the curtains of the pink yukata; “Here?”. The wetness made him tremble and grunt with anticipation. She was ready for him. "Do you play with your sweet flower for your sensei?", he moved his fingers side to side on her clit, feeling her honey on the tips and her curly hairs on his knuckles.
"Please, please, sensei...”, she mumbled, hugging his back; “Put it in."
The Music Hashira grabbed a fistful of the woman's lush black hair and gave it a steady pull, making her look up. "Already?", he dipped two fingers inside of her, moving in and out with short strokes, just one knuckle in; “Oh, she was needing a little bit of love, hm?.”; he curled his fingers up, as if to touch her clit from inside. The wet noises filled the room.
Soojiro went down and spread her legs open, so flexible she could lay each thigh on the mattress. He sucked her meaty lips and gave her slit a long stroke with his tongue, bottom to top. "You taste so good, Yue…" She grabbed his hair; eyes rolling up, flooded by the sensation of seeing the man she respected so much completely drunk on desire for her, with his tongue buried inside her wetness. She moved her hips against his mouth – on his mouth, on his mouth…, she repeated to herself – making his nose massage her clit.
Soojiro slid a full finger in, touching her sweet spot for the first time. Yue moaned loudly and dripped around her teacher. The man then opened her lips with his thumbs and looked at her. "Give me your hands.", he guided her hands down, making her hold herself open on both sides of her dripping pussy. He got back on his knees to admire her: "If anybody saw the mighty Words Hashira like this…"
Yue got even more flustered with the comment. She was a Hashira... It was true! A warm wave of pride and gratitude washed over her, and she relaxed on the mattress, accepting what she had managed to become: a nurse, a poet, a fighter and a fulfilled woman that chose to enjoy pleasure on a spring evening with the man that she ached for. Yue opened herself even more to receive his hungry eyes; that all-consuming gaze the swordsman had that could inflict fear in the heart of any demon and that was now turning her into a whimpering mess. She throbbed looking in his dark eyes, again and again, making the man shiver with lust as she contracted her muscles. Soojiro smiled, making her pulse it again. Another drop of sweetness dripped down her spread cheeks. He scooped it with his finger and fed it to her.
With Yue holding herself open, sensei pressed his right thumb right at the top end of her clit and pulled up, exposing it even more in the fresh air of spring. "Such a precious rosebud.”, he sucked the pink little mount in his mouth with a slurp and then squeezed and twisted it delicately.
Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, squeeze, he showed her the rhythm: how she would wait; how she would crave for every repetition.
"Now it is my time to confess.”, he said, talking when her clit was between his fingers.
Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, squeeze.
“Remember when we trained stretching?”
Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, squeeze.
“I used to help you by pressing your thighs down, just like this, while you laid on the ground.
Slurp, slurp, slurp - sensei… - slurp, squeeze.
It was hard to hide how you made me feel...”
Slurp, - ahhh… - slurp, slurp, slurp, squeeze.
“I did my best positioning my knee in front of it, turning around quickly...”
Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, squeeze.
“But whenever I helped you to stretch, and on many occasions more, this is what I was hiding." He sat on his knees and opened his pants. His cock jumped out, bulging with pressure. He quivered in relief. Yue's mouth salivated:
"Sensei...”, she cried, “Sensei, put it in..."
He stroked his length. “Oh I will very soon.”
“No,”, she replied, standing on fours in front of him; “Put it in!”, then sticking her tongue out, Yue notching her mouth around Soojiro's cock.
“Oooh, Yue…”
The Words Hashira wielding style was agile, flexible and with precise, short moves here and there. Soojiro was always enchanted when watching her fighting, and now… Now he had that same ability while she wielded his own sword.
Yue alternated between short and long strokes on his throbbing cock, always keeping his tip in her mouth. Her flexible wrist twisted gracefully around him and she lifted her head just at the end, giving him a delicious pulling sensation right at the base of his cock.
Sensei was so proud of her…
Soojiro gathered her hair in his fist to have a full view of Yue slurping and gagging with himself sliding vigorously on her tongue.
She looked up; those pleading eyes again, that beautiful woman that gave to him such devotion… Soojiro felt his body contracting with the coming of an orgasm. He pulled her by her hair with one hand to her neck and laid her roughly on the mattress, stroking himself as he prepared to fill her throbbing slit. She held his shoulders tight and lifted her legs. He rubbed her entrance with his velvety tip.
“Ask me again.”,
“Put it in, sensei…”
He grinned.
“Yes, ma’am.”
And with one long, steady movement, he entered her warmth and touched her g-spot. Yue screamed. Soojiro started going in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out… Yue cried louder, louder, blooming for him, dripping for him, clenching for him, not a care in the world but to enjoy his thick shaft sliding against her walls. Soojiro went faster, and faster, and panting, and moaning in the woman he had come for in secrecy so many times.
A helper of the headquarters that was taking care of the clothes nearby heard the noises and went to check it out, under the pretext of seeing if something was wrong. Utter lie… She knew those were sounds of pleasure, felt aroused and craved to spy what the Music Hashira was doing. She tiptoed to her mansion and risked a look inside the sliding door let carelessly open, her eyes being the only thing visible on the typical uniform that curved the helpers’ faces.
She wetted her lips with her heart racing.
Wait.
Was that…?
The helper widened her green eyes.
Music Hashira was boning Words Hashira!
Soojiro looked up, catching the helper on the act. Yue followed his gaze and also saw her.
“Out!!”, he screamed, but Yue pulled his face back to her.
“Forget everyone else. What are they going to do?”, she smiled maliciously, “Do you think they want to piss off two Hashira in heat?
Soojiro smiled big and bright and bit his lip, then hers. Looks like the idea of being a top swordswoman is already starting to sink in…
“No, they don’t.”
Yue hugged him tighter with her thighs, as preparing herself, and looked at him as the defiant woman he adored:
“Let them hear how good Soojiro Saito makes me feel.”
He could never feel more elated.
With one hand caressing her throat tight, he said:
“Sing for me, Words Hashira.”
And oh, she did: proud, and bold, and shameless, and blazing, and blatant and unabashed - so that was the world…! She was not a hare on a trap: she was a hunter herself, and to the plenitude of everything that they were her body celebrated with a raging orgasm that had been maturing inside of her for years like fine wine; a wine that gurgled on his cock sweet and victorious and that made him shoot deep inside her needy cunt.
Soojiro fell on top of her, both panting, and when they looked at each other with that glow on their skin and that shine on their eyes, they laughed loudly and rolled together, kissing, on the mattress and on the tatame.
They looked up and the shadow of the helper could still be seen through the paper wall, and this time it was Yue to scream “Leave!”, making the woman run away.
She laughed again; energy flowed fiercely through her body. She turned around and laid on her belly, holding her face in her hands and looking outside the opened sliding door. The silver moon lingered between the wisteria’s branches, and her heart floated with a beauty not even a poem could comprehend.
"The moon looks beautiful tonight.", she said, to what Soojiro entwined their fingers together and held her hand tight:
"She has been looking beautiful for a long time."
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A story of how the love of words and music creates an unforgettable song.
