Lorâs face turned serious, his tone low, warning.
"The Lightâs rituals are... erotic. Sexual. Uncomfortable. The Light seeks entertainment, and itâs a perverted kind. If itâs pleased, it grants guidance." His gaze flicked to her chest, the damp patch from breakfast still faintly visible, stirring heat in his core.
Silviaâs lips parted, her breath catching.
She gulped, then nodded, face resolute.
"I understand. Iâm... ready." Her voice trembled, but her eyes were firm, her thighs pressing together, skirt riding higher.
"Alright then," Lor said, scanning the room. "Let me get the coin." He glanced around, then spotted it.
"Ah. Itâs under the bed."
He moved to crouch, but Silvia raised a hand quickly.
"No need! Iâll get it." Before he could stop her, she ducked forward, lifting the sheet and crawling beneath the bed on her hands and knees.
Lorâs breath caught, his cock stiffening instantly.
Her pencil skirt rode up, stretching taut over her thick, round ass, the fabric clinging to her curves, the outline of her panties barely hiddenâwhite lace, delicate and teasing.
Her hips shifted with each inch she crawled, her thighs tensing, the skirt hiking higher, nearly revealing the soft edge of lace.
Her breasts swayed beneath her blouse, the damp fabric clinging to her skin, outlining her bra as she moved.
"I see it! Just a bit furtherâah!" Silviaâs muffled voice came, her heel slipping on the floorboard, hips wobbling, skirt riding even higher, the lace now fully visible, hugging her plump curves.
Lor let out a strained exhale, his cock throbbing in his pants, the sight overwhelming.
The Guiding Light was already watching.
.
.
.
GULP~
Lor gulped hard, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants, morning sunlight streaming through his bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets.
Silvia was still crouched under the bed on all fours, completely unaware of the obscene little show she was putting onâher thick, ripe ass tilted up like a gift made to tempt, that snug pencil skirt shoved halfway over her hips, white lace panties stretched tight over her fat, fuckable cheeks.
The curves of a real woman.
Full. Heavy. Begging.
Lorâs breath hitched, cock pulsing hard against the zipper of his slacks.
The scent of her jasmine perfume floated up, soft and floralâbut underneath it, something warmer. The tease of heat rising from between her thighs.
God, look at that ass.
He wanted to shove her skirt up higher, rip those panties off with his teeth, slap that bouncing meat until she gasped and squealed.
Watch the flesh ripple, red handprints blooming over pale skin.
Grab handfuls of her ass, thumbs digging in, pulling those cheeks apart to see that tight little star, that wet pussy dripping between them.
Fuck
, he could taste it already.
His cock throbbed, aching for release.
All he had to do was drop to his knees, grab her by the hips, and bury his tongue right between her cheeksâlap at her asshole, tongue her pussy, eat her like a filthy dog in heat while she whimpered and pressed back against his face.
Or betterâ
Pin her down and slam into her, rough, deep, making her moan like a bitch in heat while her tits bounced inside that tight blazer. Her glasses askew. Her mouth slack, drooling on the sheets.
And all the while sheâd pretend she was shockedâ
oh my, Lor!
âbut her pussy would squeeze him like velvet, soaking his cock, her moans a erotic music, filthy, desperate.
He bit his lip.
Fuuuuuuuuuck~
"Control, Lor. Control," he muttered, breathing through his nose, fists clenching to ground himself.
"When the gods give you a chance to be a pervert... you savor it. You donât devour it."
His hazel eyes stayed locked on her, the sight searing into his mind.
Silvia pulled back from under the bed, triumphantly holding the coin in both hands, her chest heaving from the crawl, blouse clinging tighter, nipples faintly pressing through.
"Here you go," she said, sheepish smile bright despite her flushed cheeks, handing it over, her fingers brushing his, warm and soft, sending a jolt through him.
Lor took it, their touch sparking heat in his core.
"Is this a specail coin for the ritual?" Silvia asked, curiously.
Not until now,
he thought, cock still throbbing.
"No Miss Silvia," he said aloud, voice low, strained.
"Any silver coin works."
She nodded, face still flushed, sitting back on her knees, hands folding in her lap.
"Alright... Iâm ready," she said, her voice a whisper, eyes wide with anticipation, breasts rising with each breath, the sunlight catching the curve of her thighs.
Lor moved slowly, sitting cross-legged across from her on the wooden floor, the air thick with their closeness.
He placed the coin on the floor between them and closed his eyes.
The room stilled, sunlight streaming through the window, warming their skin, the faint hum of morning birds outside blending with their breaths.
A soft vibration spread from the coinâa hum like distant thunder, low and resonant.
It lifted, slowly, weightlessly, hovering mid-air between them, spinning faintly, catching the sunlightâs glow.
Silviaâs breath caught, her eyes widening, her blouse straining as she leaned forward, lips parting slightly, the light highlighting her flushed cheeks.
The coin hovered perfectly, no fluctuation, no visible force, the air around it steady.
Impossible,
Silvia thought, heart racing.
Even she, with formal training, couldnât manage such finesse with wind magic.
To keep a coin suspended like that required microscopic mana manipulation, honed instincts, a flawless stream of magical current.
A bottom-tier student like Lor couldnât do this. This is B-Class tier at least.
This has to be real.
The Guiding Light.
Itâs the only explanation.
Lorâs eyes snapped open, but they werenât his anymore.
They glowed with golden light, deep and ancient, resonating with a power beyond mortal grasp.
His expression shiftedâno longer shy or casual but calm, absolute, unknowably vast.
His presence pressed against the room like a divine weight, the air tingling, the sunlight seeming to dim under his auraâs force.
Silvia stared, mouth slightly parted, stunned, her breasts heaving.
The voice that came from his lips was not hisâricher, deeper, filled with celestial authority.
"What guidance do you seek... child?"