“You really got a lot to show off, don’t you, stud?” Voxxy asked, glancing at me with yet another kind of interest. Initially she had been, negatively, struck by my assertiveness. Then she had been interested in my sexual equipment. During the class she got to learn about my mental capability. Now, she had witnessed first-hand my physical aptness.

Really, I should have thanked Lemair. His envy allowed me to leave an even stronger impression on the shortstack. After adjusting her glasses, she reached as far up to my biceps as she could. I neither minded the squeezes she gave my muscles nor the demand she made.

“Show me those guns!”

No questions asked, I stripped out of my shirt. Usually, I enjoyed ripping the buttons open on Esther’s uniform, but my own were just as easy to pop open. The blatant stares of sexual desire I got from Voxxy and most of the crowd were another layer of encouragement telling me to keep sculpting this temple my soul inhabited.

I held the red shirt by the collar and tossed it over my shoulder. Posing would have gone a bit far. All I did was tense my abs, only to make myself look better. “As you can see, my delectably honest shortstack, I don’t carry any firearms on me,” I joked.

“Definitely not, you just have water pistols around. Every woman is in the splash zone, huh?” Voxxy’s eyes traced every outline of my muscles for a little while, before getting stuck on my V-lines. That was one part of the male physique I could understand why she loved looking at, if only because I had a deep attraction for the same in athletic women. The depression between the midriff and the hips, seductively vanishing under legwear, was like an inbuilt path to the promised land.

I was wondering how I should best respond to that particularly lewd innuendo, when a groan from Lemair reminded me of his existence. As quickly as possible, I wanted to turn my attention back to more interesting people and things, like Voxxy, Esther, and their respective cleavages. “Alright, let’s make this quick,” I said and squatted down next to him, shirtless. “Delete my number.”

Lemair hissed something aggressive. Initial defiance quickly made room for resignation. It must have occurred to him that he could do as we had agreed or I would get the administrators involved. At this point he had lost his chance and a good portion of his dignity. To also drag his official standing down would have been cruel beyond what I was comfortable with.

There was empathy to be had for the guy. He was, like me, trying to make himself popular with the opposite sex. His problem was that I was better at it than he was. Of course, that would be frustrating. I had been in his shoes before, not like every attempt at flirting I had ever made had ended up with me getting the girl I wanted.

“Want a word of advice?” I asked, while Lemair browsed through his Ashod to the proper page.

“No… actually… whatever,” the guy groaned and moved into a more comfortable sitting position. “Shoot me, wise guy,” he said, sarcastically.

“You should tone it down on the desperation and up the confidence,” I told him. “Good on you for rising from the glaring crowd, but I don’t think you really need to be part of it in the first place.”

“…Sure,” Lemair answered with that single word and turned the phone towards me. A box showing ‘contact info deleted’ confirmed that he had held up his end of the bargain. Pleased, I offered my hand. He took it, after some hesitation, and I helped him up. Without any further conversation, he walked away, his shoulders pulled back and without gazing back. As graceful an exit as he could make.

“You know what? I envy that,” Voxxy commented, while the crowd around us dispersed.

I winked towards one of the ladies who snuck a last peek at my chest, before asking, “Envy what?”

“This guy thing where you beat the shit out of each other… well, you out of him… and then you shake hands afterwards and just go different ways.” The shortstack cackled. “When I get in a fight with another woman, we ain’t talking afterwards.”

“A fact that I too have observed and to which I have come to this conclusion: for us males, the fight is an initial response. The option is on the table, off the bat, because the physicality of our-“

“Okay, real talk, stud, your way to go full sophistry on everything is super annoying.”

“Haaahhh,” I exhaled slowly, reinforcing the mental note that I had to find at least one Anomalia member who let me get all of the extrapolating out of my system. “What I’m trying to say,” I put it in the boring, common terms, “is that men can and will fight, because harm to us is not as ‘important’. For women, violence is the last resort because your bodies have way more inherent value that could be lost.”

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“You got that right,” Voxxy grinned and bounced a bit where she stood, making her breasts jiggle so wonderfully. I was getting more to the point that child-rearing made women more important, on a purely materialistic level, but boobs were a fantastic argument too. “I do owe you something though, don’t I?” she asked.

“Indeed, you do,” I hummed. “As per our wager, I hereby demand your number.”

“Sure thing, just one problem, I’m terribly bad at listing stuff,” Voxxy responded theatrically. She waved around a folded piece of paper. “So I wrote it down for you and – ooooppps,” she stuffed the note into her cleavage, “what a terrible accident. I guess someone with big hands will have to dig that out!”

I played along. Whether it was in the way Voxxy had imagined or not was questionable. It was doubtlessly in a way she appreciated though.

Rather than answer, I grabbed the shortstack and carried her to a nearby bench. She let out a surprised ‘eeep’, but did not struggle. Harshly, I tossed her onto the seat. Her entire body was a quivering display of bounciness, from the ample bosom to the thick thighs. The latter were intensely pressed together, when I maliciously bowed over her. Hard, I grabbed the backrest, framing her head between my forearms.

“How clumsy can you be?” I asked, aggressively. A tiny smile was as much of my true feelings on this act as I let show. Voxxy’s expression mirrored that, a mixture between intimidated, amused, and incredibly aroused. Her eyes dashed between my blue eyes, naked chest, and the bulge in my dark pants.

People walked by, while I stared the goblin redhead into submission. Distantly, I wondered just how far I could push this. It was a question of what she would let me get away with, what Esther would accept, and what a teacher coming by would potentially have disciplined me for. For the moment, I was content when her blue eyes stayed permanently locked on mine. She did have sexy, young teacher vibes, with the black skirt of the uniform and those black-rimmed glasses of hers. That only made it more delicious to see her so utterly enthralled in my shadow.

“Answer me,” I demanded. “How clumsy can you be?”

“Very clumsy,” she responded sheepishly, as if she was in a trance. “You’ll have to correct my mistake.”

My eyes finally broke from hers and wandered to her bust. She was presenting her tits ferociously. Two buttons were open, the third seemed like it could pop any moment now. Between the light green of her breasts, turned slightly deeper in colour by the flushing of her skin, the white of the paper stuck out clearly.

“Happens that I can also be quite clumsy,” I confessed.

“I’m sure your hands won’t go anywhere they shouldn’t be, stud,” she cooed.

Consent could have only been established any more clearly by filling out a legal document.

Taking my right hand off the backrest I reached down and completely missed the note. My fingers ‘slipped’, moving over the top of her left boob, gliding from where the squishy bag of hopes and dreams was attached below the collarbone all the way under her shirt. By pure accident, I stuffed my entire hand into her bra. Doubtlessly without lewd intentions, I squeezed.

In appreciation of the form of her boob, I moved my hand around the orb of bounciness. From every available angle, I took my chance to appreciate one side of her chest and then shamelessly moved on to the other.

Voxxy bit her lower lip and shuffled left to right, while my digits, one after the other, rubbed over her erect nipple. Too curious to not risk it, I tugged at her bra and got an actual view of the crown of those grassy green hills. Dark green, her nipple peeked back at me, at the centre of a nicely sized areola.

That curiosity sated, I went back to groping and fondling her. Voxxy let out the occasional held breath. Otherwise, she was quiet, letting me do as my heart desired. I always stopped short of doing something that would have made her tits actually pop out of her shirt. That limited my range of operations, but only by so much.

I was most interested in getting a proper idea about her size. She seemed to wear clothes that were just a tad too small for her, from a visual perspective. Investigating physically, it looked like her clothes were actually tailored perfectly to her curves. Those curves were just that seductive. Her tits had that undeniably natural squishiness to them and I could barely wait to find out how they would look without clothes meddling with my perception. How firm were they? Were they smaller than Esther’s or the same size? Either was impressive on her small frame.

Time forced me to move my hand to where it was supposed to go. For a moment, I was blessed with complete envelopment by heat and female softness. I could feel my comparably inelegant fingers force her abundant flesh to reshape around them. If there was any benefit to a bra, it was that they kept boobs pressed against an object between them.

‘Maybe bras can be useful as titjob assistances… but then who would rather look at a bra than naked tits getting squished together by hands?’ I thought while retrieving the piece of paper. It had, by courtesy of heavy breathing, slid a bit deeper in there and also turned damp with sweat. Animalistic instincts told me to sniff it. Not that I needed to catch Voxxy’s fragrance. It was a mixture of honey and machine oil. Unorthodox and pleasant, simultaneously. I unfolded the piece of paper, confirmed it was only the number, and then swiftly registered her in my contacts. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Find a private corner and masturbate while thinking about you,” Voxxy answered with respectable shamelessness.

By this point, it wasn’t just her previous assurances that made me certain she didn’t do this for just any guy. After all I had done around her the past two to three hours, I had left enough of an impact that I could justify her taking special measures for me. “You should control yourself for a little while,” I suggested suavely and put my shirt back on. “What’s your next class?”

“Magic Awakening.”

I wasn’t even aware they had that class, but it did make perfect sense in her circumstances. “Alright, how about you come to room 11 in the alchemy branch during the next break? I have my Cooking Class there and my Queen and I eat whatever I make.” I grabbed her by the chin. “You should join.”

She gave me the slightest, most dedicated nod possible.