"The alarm's set for seven… as usual," Ai murmured softly to herself, disabling Kagura's alarm.
She plugged his phone into the charger by the nightstand, then checked the room's lock—secure, as expected. With light steps, she returned to Kagura's bedside. Her shapely legs, clad in standard high-waisted student socks, brushed together as she slipped off her glossy black school shoes. Facing Kagura, her right hand dipped into the pocket of her uniform skirt, now folded to her knees.
A soft, pink silk panty lay quietly within.
In other words, Ai was bare beneath.
Leaning down, she lightly tapped Kagura's face with a gentle *pat-pat*. A faint smile curled her lips as she brushed her hair aside, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Glancing at the phone—6:55—she waited until 6:58 before carefully lifting the down quilt to his ankles. Stepping onto the bed, she placed a foot on his pillow, turned to face his feet, and straddled his head, legs parted.
Kagura remained lost in dreams.
"Hmph…" Ai gripped her skirt's hem, as she had for years, lifting it as she knelt over him.
Her meticulously cleaned core pressed against his face, adjusting until it rested at his lips.
This was their secret, agreed-upon morning wake-up ritual.
Stirred by restricted breathing, Kagura awoke. Barely rested, he was groggy, but this didn't hinder their years-long "morning greeting."
Among his proclivities for women's bodies—his fetishes—oral indulgence ranked high. Ai often teased him as a "rutting dog burrowing under a maid's skirt."
Her warm, soft petals pressed perfectly against his lips, his nose grazing her entrance, inhaling the intoxicating, primal scent of her femininity. Without lifting a hand or opening his eyes, he extended his tongue in a half-dream state, finding that half-firm, half-soft pearl, rich with sensitive nerves—the wellspring of a woman's ecstasy.
And his trusted tool to unravel Ai.
"It seems you're… awake. Good morning, Master Kagura," Ai said, maintaining her position for his pleasure. Even without this ritual, Kagura's member stood tall, jutting from his loose robe's hem, its tip fully exposed, flushed red and purple, visibly straining.
Kagura didn't speak, continuing to savor her core. Unless Ai was indisposed, this clandestine wake-up never ceased.
In his past life, a virgin felled by overwork, Kagura had never tasted a woman. In this life, before his member claimed the core now above his lips, he'd spent years sampling her nectar.
It was a flavor defying description yet utterly addictive—faintly saline, perfectly balanced, with a subtle, unique tang. Her slick essence clung, sliding over his lips, pooling in his mouth, coiling on his tongue, drawing silken threads, beading, entwining, dripping.
Her folds, pressed vertically against his mouth, mimicked lips—playful, as if a mischievous girl kissed him sideways, leaving his lips drenched. The more he lapped, the more nectar flowed, an endless font that kept his tongue perpetually busy, never fully sated.
His tongue and lips grazed, licked, sucked, or wriggled like a slug's sucker, savoring her core's lascivious shifts. Her youthful, decadent scent filled his nose, her stifled moans rang in his ears, and her skirt veiled his vision, reducing his world to the slick hollow against his face.
Probing her core, the entrance resisted his tongue's shallow reach—a limitation Kagura lamented. If he could, he'd wield a tongue sixteen centimeters long, pin Ai to the piano, slip beneath her skirt, nudge her panties aside, and plunder every fold from her cervix to its depths, harvesting every drop of her lustful essence.
Under his ministrations, Ai swiftly climaxed, her waist buckling as she collapsed forward. Brushing aside stray hair, she propped herself with her left hand, her right grasping his leaking member, spitting saliva onto it with a *pffft*.
Only after Kagura brought her to climax would Ai contentedly service him—save during her cycle, when she'd kneel at his feet for oral wake-ups instead.
Kagura's love for oral play was profound. Early after gaining the ability to climax, he'd lavish Ai for hours, her gaze fixed on his arousal. A mere touch of her hand would send him over the edge.
Now, his endurance was formidable; Ai had to employ her full skill to bring him release.
"So engorged… is my nectar that delectable?" Ai panted, stroking him with a teasing laugh. "Without me, would you lick a bald pussy pic like a dumb dog? I'm… ngh! So curious…"
A sudden flick at her pearl sent shivers through her, forcing her to clamp her mouth. Scowling, she engulfed his member, working hand and mouth in tandem, sucking and stroking with fervor.
Morning time was tight; her oral service was for invigoration, so Kagura didn't hold back. When the urge hit, he gripped her rear, pressing his mouth firmly to her ravaged core, probing deeply with his tongue.
Sensing his climax, Ai swallowed him fully to trigger his release, then eased back, her lips and tongue cradling the tip, her right hand gripping the base, coaxing his forceful spurts into her mouth.
As his trembling release subsided, Ai cleaned him orally, swallowing the thick, viscous essence slowly.
Kagura released her hips, patting her rear to signal her descent.
Ai rose, grabbing disinfectant wipes from the nightstand to clean herself thoroughly before slipping on her pink panties. She handed Kagura tissues to wipe his face.
Propping himself up, Kagura cleaned off the saliva and nectar. Despite her flushed ears, Ai's work-mode poker face was unshakable—adorable in its own way.
After disposing of his tissues, Ai leaned against the bed, whispering softly by his ear, hand shielding her lips, "My dearest, perverse scumbag Master Kagura, how was the flavor today?"
Refreshed, Kagura squinted, shaking his head with a sigh. "I could lick you all day…"
"Why not say 'lick you till I die'? That suits your perverse nature better," Ai teased, playfully lifting her skirt to flash her butterfly-ribboned panties, winking wickedly.
"Psh! Liking oral makes me perverse? Then you, lustful maid who loves being tasted, are just as bad!"
Sensing another round of banter, Kagura cut it short, stretching and thinking: *Call Auxiliary System!*
His consciousness detached, plunging into the void.
"Greetings, Master Kagura. The auxiliary system is at your service," it responded promptly.
"Can I sign in now?"
Having slept only an hour, Kagura was exhausted but couldn't skip the first day of school. The system's sign-in would be a lifesaver.
"Yes. Operating on Tokyo time, a new sign-in is available daily past midnight. Continuous sign-ins offer no extra rewards, nor does skipping incur penalties."
"I'm eating breakfast soon. Can sign-ins default to skipping hunger restoration unless I specify?"
"Of course. Would you like to sign in now?"
"Yes, sign in."
The system's prompt faded, and Kagura's consciousness returned. He felt vibrant, his body light, even the urge to use the bathroom gone—remarkable.
Ai helped him rise, removing his robe and ushering him to the bathroom while she brushed her teeth, rinsed, applied breath spray to mask any lingering scent, and checked for stray hairs from his member.
Kagura could've had Ai join him, but time was short—they'd likely dawdle otherwise.
"How do I look? Handsome?" Kagura asked, adjusting his Sobu High uniform collar.
"Ugh…" Ai clapped halfheartedly, her expression dour. "Very handsome."
"Hey! What's with the attitude?" Kagura leaned to kiss her lips, but she blocked with her hand, pulling back. "No time to waste. Go eat breakfast."
Another kiss might've led to another tumble.
"Alright, let's go~" Kagura snapped his fingers, whistling cheerfully as he left.
In the spacious, bright dining room, a rectangular table for twenty, draped in pristine white cloth, held only Eriri at the far right. She hadn't touched her cutlery, slouching with a bored, chin-propped gaze fixed on them.
"Morning, Eriri," Kagura greeted.
"Good morning, Miss Eriri," Ai added.
"Meh, morning…" Eriri replied lazily, turning her attention to the freshly served delicacies.
Clad in a dark green tracksuit with white stripes, she looked every bit the disheveled otaku. Her golden hair hung messily down her back, her posture slouched with one leg crossed. Her plain purple socks, pilled at the heels, paired with beige slippers dangling from her toes, exuded a careless air.