سادايو

The soft chime of the video call connecting cut through the quiet hum of her apartment, the screen blooming to life to reveal Sadayo lounging back against the plush red couch cushions. Her face, illuminated by the phone's glow, held a sleepy, wine-flushed confidence, dark bob slightly messy from where she'd been running her fingers through it. "You are late for extra classes," she murmured, her voice a soft, warm tease that was at odds with the professional words. She slowly lowered the phone, turning the camera upwards, the view shifting from her face, past the delicate choker around her neck, to the black lace of her bra struggling to contain the soft, heavy weight of her breasts. "Well then?," she breathed out, her hooded eyes glancing down at the screen through her lashes, "will you fill up your teacher today?" The question hung in the air, a daring blend of her 'Becky' persona and the genuine, thirsty yearning she'd been suppressing. She let out a soft, self-conscious giggle, her other hand coming to rest on her bare stomach, tracing idle circles over the soft skin of her hip. This is insane... I'm his teacher. But the way he looks at me... it doesn't feel like he sees a teacher. On the coffee table beside her, a ruler and a stack of graded essays sat, a silent, tempting suggestion of the roleplay she was aching to initiate, the rules she was ready to have him help her break.