Divine Celebrity 107 (Patreon)

The moment I heard the door crack, I stopped my experimentation and turned toward the door. 

I had worked enough. Now, it was the time to celebrate.  

Lauren stepped forward. It was a soft, fragile step, with all the awkwardness of a drunk gazelle. Even as I let my gaze climb up, I noted that she was able to balance on her stilettos much better than I expected. 

A nice surprise, one that faded quickly against the sexiness of her legs as the fishnet wrapped around, hiding nothing until her mid-thighs, where the pencil skirt took the role. It was more successful in hiding her skin, but with the tight hugging of her hips that left nothing to the imagination, it was somehow even sexier. 

An amazing show, one that she didn’t even bother trying to conceal — mostly because her whole focus was on keeping her top in order. 

The blazer looked amazing on her without any blouse inside, even as she pulled it close tightly enough to be uncomfortable, only leaving a small strap of skin visible rather than the great valley as intended. 

I let my gaze climb even more, capturing her expressions, scared and excited, hesitant and sensual… 

On another girl, the pose might have ruined all the effort that had gone into putting together such a sexy ensemble. On her … it was perfect.

“Beautiful,” I whispered throatily, supporting the fascination I was feeling with an exaggerated tone. Exaggerated, but not undeserved. 

“R-really?” she stammered, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“Have you ever seen me acting fake to please someone,” I answered, earning a shy nod, followed by a small yet naughty smile. 

My rough reputation wasn’t only useful in intimidation of my opponents, it seemed. 

“Excellent, now that we left that nonsense behind, why don’t you walk closer and give me a better view of my reward.”

I couldn’t wait to get a better view. 

She said nothing, just paused for a moment to take a deep breath. A move that shored up her courage, but also forced open the blazer she was desperately trying to hold close. Not too much, and not for long, but just enough to confirm that she was wearing the cupless bra I had picked for her. 

She closed the distance in small, hesitant steps, her confidence flickering as she got closer. I kept my gaze on her face, a soft smile on my face to encourage her, and she managed to finish the walk not too soon after. 

“Why don’t you give me a twirl, so I can get a better view of my reward?” I asked. 

She did so, slowly yet without too much fear. After all, there was no risk of a pencil skirt creating any kind of problem while in motion. Especially since she was more concerned by her blazer. 

That didn’t mean her hips didn’t look absolutely amazing, stuffed in the tight shirt. The fishnets tempted me to drag my finger over their texture, but I managed to hold back. 

Barely. 

After a couple turns, she stopped, looking at me with a blush. She was still holding her blazer, but her iron grip already loosened, finally giving a glimpse of the areas that her bra was supposed to cover, yet didn’t. 

“W-what now,” she whispered, using a throaty tone I had never heard from her, far too intense to be artificial. I didn’t blame her. She had been waiting for hours after the games were over, excitement and anticipation building up. 

Unfortunately for her, I was just mean enough to mess with her. Not for long. I liked Lauren enough to keep it from turning into torture. 

Not to mention lengthening the wait was torture for me as well. 

“I was thinking of playing chess. After today’s display, I have a reputation to defend, and you still need to work more to function under stress. Maybe we should play for the whole evening, as I will focus on the football team until Sunday.” 

The way her enthusiasm froze on her face was just too cute, even as she had shown no sense of enthusiasm for the offer to play chess for the first time. 

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“O-of course not,” she managed to stammer an answer, filled with disappointment. “I love … chess.” 

I chuckled, though surprised to see her actually turning toward a room. “Let’s go to the study, then, my chess set is here,” she said. 

“You actually brought your set?” I asked, curious. “Did you go back to your house?” 

“No, I’m living here,” she said, blushing under my gaze. “I still have my reward points,” she said. 

“Of course,” I answered, ignoring just how many points were required to treat the penthouse of the most expensive hotel in town as her permanent residence — and that was while she was cut from the family fortune. 

Still, the extent of her independence from her family wealth was just a momentary distraction as she took a step forward toward her study. “Where are you going?” I asked. 

“T-to the study,” she whispered in confusion. 

“I was thinking maybe we can try playing blind chess, that would work better,” I said. “I’ll start. B-three.” 

“An unusual opening,” she answered, a flicker of interest working itself back to her face, though not enough to overwhelm her sense of disappointment. “Knight, C-three.” 

“And an even more fascinating counter,” I said. “But why don’t you sit down. It’ll be unfair to stand, especially with those shoes,” I said, acting like I wasn’t the one that picked them. 

“Sure—“ she murmured as she made a move to sit down, only for me to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her on my lap. “Hey,” she gasped. 

“Is there a problem? I’m just helping you to get a seat,” I answered, my voice rough and throaty, my hands already on her thighs. 

“I — I can find my seat,” she said, though it turned into a soft whisper halfway as I pulled her back even more. Directly on my erection, hard enough for her to feel despite layers of clothing between us. 

“Why? Are you unhappy with your seat?” I whispered throatily. She didn’t answer, but I decided to take her hesitant shuffling as an answer. 

I looked down at her shoulder, finally getting a proper glimpse of the bra I had picked for her as she had forgotten to hold her blazer closed in her new situation. Though, since I was a gentleman — and certainly not because I enjoyed teasing her — I decided to remind her. “You should fix your blazer,” I whispered. 

“Noo!” she gasped beautifully as she pulled it tight hard, so much that I would be convinced it would have to get ripped if it belonged to a cheaper brand. 

“Better,” I whispered, and she shivered. “Now, Bishop, B-two.” 

She responded with another daring move, just not as daring as my hands, one slipping down, landing on the area not covered by her skirt, finally testing the bumpy feeling of the fishnet stockings she was wearing. 

The other hand climbed up, slipping under her blazer to caress her naked belly, feeling her tremble under my touch. 

I responded to her move. Then, she made another move, even more daring than my touch like it was a competition. 

Unfortunately for her, it was a wrong move. Not a blunder, certainly, and not thing below a solid Master could actually take advantage of — assuming they noticed it in the first place — but still, a dangerous overextension. 

One that I punished aggressively, making her eyes widen even more than the naughty exploration of my fingers. “No!” she gasped in shock, even as we played the rest of the game. She tried to put a counter-attack style defense rather than her usual careful style, only for it to shatter easily, the earlier mistake creating too big of a mistake to recover from. 

“You should be careful, my dear tutor,” I answered. “A reckless counter-attack is not your style.” 

“It works when you use them,” she answered with a petulant tone. I might have felt rather inadequate of her immediate focus back to chess, but her husky tone was there to remind me that she was very much aware of the mistake she had committed. “You used them against ten players at the same time, and won all ten of them. They simply fell apart.”  

“Good point,” I said as I dragged my finger on her thigh. “But you need to remember, I can only use those reckless attacks when I’m sure  I distracted my opponent. How many times do you think those players actually played in front of a crowd of more than a dozen spectators actually paying attention to their game. Trying to use unfamiliar tactics is already difficult, add the facts that they were unprepared for a confrontation with the school honor in line, and mix the live TV aspect…”

“I … see,” she whispered. 

“Exactly,” I said. “Using a wild strategy has to come with some distraction.”  

“G-good point,” she suddenly stammered and stood up, which surprised me greatly. 

Though, not for long, as she wasted almost no time before falling to her knees, this time not bothering to keep her blazer closed. “L-let’s try it like that,” she said as she started fiddling with my pants…