3.3 - A Story About a Married Teacher Who Becomes Obsessed With Her Female Student

Chapter 3: In The Sea Without Borders - Part Three "And, I know... Sensei must have saved my picture, right?" She smiled knowingly, seeing right through me. "I didn't." I shook my head with a firm no. "It's no use. It's obvious that Sensei is quite the pervert..." "Don't say things like that... at school..." Given what I was about to do with Togawa-san, her words seemed ironic. "Sensei, you avoid looking at me even in the classroom, don't you?" Togawa playfully stroked my cheek with a finger, making the spot tingle. "It's because it would create an awkward atmosphere if our eyes met." "That might be true." Before, even when our eyes met, I could look away naturally. But now, it felt like a missed opportunity, and I struggled to not maintain eye contact longer than necessary. This unnaturalness might lead to complications. "I'm fine with staring at Sensei, so it's good for me." "…Maybe that's true." I always felt Togawa-san's gaze even during lessons. What set hers apart from the others, allowing me to perceive it so clearly, remained a mystery. I knew her gaze was always on me, even as I faced the blackboard. That's why I was always desperate to control the flush that crept up while I was writing, hoping to calm it down. Admonishing her to stop looking at my backside is something I can hardly bring myself to say. Though our affair was technically over, the idea that Togawa-san found me attractive... didn't feel bad. Things that would normally bother me became tolerable, as if flipped on their axis. As I began to grasp the name for this emotion, I quickly distracted myself with mundane thoughts. "Let's have lunch." "Yeah, we don't have much time." Time. Even though the lunch break had just started, time felt precious. For what's coming afterwards. Though more than me, Togawa-san is quite something... experiencing her adolescence. Togawa-san continued with her usual snack-like lunch, and my own was a simple bento box. Plus— "Here." The bento was almost the same as my husband's, but with one difference. Offering a piece of rolled omelet, something only I had more of compared to my husband's bento, I extended it to Togawa-san. As she leaned forward and happily took a bite, it reminded me of that day I asked her what she wanted to eat, and she chose the omelet. It has become a tradition since then. "Sensei's omelet is so delicious." "Is the sweetness to your liking?" Since she mentioned she liked it sweet, I had been experimenting with various recipes. Reflecting on it, this was my first experience cooking with someone in mind. My husband would always say everything was delicious, and as for myself, well, let's just say I've been cooking rather aimlessly up until now, merely following the steps I learned without much thought. Hearing Togawa-san say my omelet was delicious... felt ticklish, in a good way. It made me think about what changes I would make for next time. Until now, it has mostly been learned lessons rather than taught ones from Togawa-san. Were this purely a teacher-student relationship, how beautiful it would have been. Yet, our situation didn't fit into any ordinary mold. As I finished my meal, Togawa-san eagerly awaited my completion, her lips inching closer softly. "...Shall we?" Faced with a high school girl's invitation, accompanied by a voice that seemed to reach inside my mind, I found no strength to resist. We were both liars, unable to forget what was impossible to not remember. If anyone saw us like this, it would be the end for me. As for Togawa-san... it's unclear. She might be portrayed as a victim in the prying eyes of others, but that narrative isn't certain. A mutual understanding exists that we're wagering much differently as our shared secret begins. Securing the classroom door, Togawa-san sat directly on the floor, gesturing for me to join her with a truly enchanting smile. The glimmer of her teeth beyond her lips stirred a frenzy within me. Shoulders and feet fell heavy with guilt, yet it didn't deter my steps as I found myself moving toward her. I slowly sat between Togawa-san's legs. Immediately, she wrapped me in a firm embrace from behind. Her hair and scent filled my senses like the crashing of waves, squeezing my heart. As my heart raced with an intensity that surely revealed itself, Togawa-san continued to cradle me, snug in her arms, eyes closed like one at rest. Supporting her embrace with my own hands, I simply accepted the moment. "Sensei..." Togawa-san always called me that, but she never said more. She restrained herself from the rest of what she wished to express. I knew where her words led and could provide the perfect answer. But I pretended it wasn’t there—to speak it aloud would reduce our restraint to one slip. When her grip loosened slightly, tension stiffened my shoulders for what came next. Togawa-san's tender fingers, nails newly manicured, cupped my breasts. Even through my suit, with undergarments in between, sensations flared across my back. My legs twitched in response without a hint of disgust. If anything, the surging tension felt eagerly anticipated. Her fingers moved lightly over the fabric like a greeting, first triggering my neck to react. Sensing it, she brushed her lips over my neck, intensifying the sensations. With preliminary motion complete, Togawa-san's movements grew bolder. My skin was flushed, sparks flashed behind my eyes with each blink. Feeling her firm grasp, verifying my form, brought the illusion of blood rushing to my forehead. From my vantage, the faculty prep room door seemed miles away. "A teacher about to stand at the podium, having her breasts fondled during lunch break... Who would imagine a diligent teacher with an open textbook could make such expressions..." But none of that mattered when a murmured whisper from Togawa-san surpassed any limit of what I could handle. So far, no hands had ventured beneath my clothes. Something like half-assed obscenity yet still offering plausible deniability. "It's only me that knows, just me...right? Sensei..." At times, Togawa-san displayed possessiveness, evoking raw, dirty emotions. Harsh, lingering tastes of strong conviction not easily chewed or digested, paved the way for unexpected fulfillment. "Only Togawa-san..." Reflexively, I echoed her words, lifting my chin in surrender, breath unsteady. At first, I wondered if this stemmed from unresolved maternal instincts. Yet, it was clear, her feelings of attraction were erotic in nature. She desired me sexually. And unwittingly, I had accepted them, sharing in the same kind of desire.