Milf Note-Chapter 143: Jealous Mother

Tempered rried towards him.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said. "No. No. Don’t get up."

Renji, stubborn as he was, still tried to sit up, but he winced when the pain from the beat down burned through his body.

He laid back down.

"Don’t mind those brats... It’s already been reported. But first, how are you feeling."

"Well, my head hurts... everywhere in my body aches. It’s like I got run over by a truck."

Haruka dipped a rag into the sink and dabbed it softly on his forehead. Laying there silently, all Renji could do was think.

’How did I get so strong? That uppercut on Kaito... felt like I could shatter bone. I didn’t even know I could fight like that. Is this a hidden talent?’

’MMA, here I come!’

Haruka noticed his distant gaze, her touch lingering as she petted his forehead. "The pain is that much, isn’t it, Master. Well then, let me do something to help you... relax."

She glanced at the door, then started to unbutton her uniform top slowly, revealing her massive, pillowy breasts spilling free from a lacy bra. "This always cools you down..."

Renji stared at her humongous knockers. ’Right here? In the school clinic?"

Haruka chuckled. "Yes, why not?"

Renji suddenly couldn’t feel the pain any more. His cock rose as she knelt between his legs, pressing her tits together around the risen cock.

The soft, warm flesh enveloped him like velvet vice, her skin silky and yielding as she began to stroke, up and down in rhythmic squeezes.

"Mmm, feel that, Master? Let it all out..." She leaned in, her tongue flicking the tip peeking from her cleavage, saliva slicking the way for smoother glides.

Renji let out a groan. The sensation was electric, especially with the former pain fading away. Her heavy breasts jiggled with each pump, and he saw her nipples harden as she continued.

Up, down, up, down; massaging all the pain away with the obscene squelching sounds of skin on skin.

"Keep going ," he told her, thrusting gently into her titjob, her moans vibrating through him.

Then the squelching turned into plapping.

PLAP! PLAP!! PLAP!!!

It filled the air as Haruka picked up speed, her tits slapping softly, eyes locked on his with slutty adoration.

"Cum for me, Master... paint my tits..."

"Fuck!" Renji twisted his face until the pressure couldn’t be held back any more and he erupted.

Hot ropes of cum shot out of his cock and spilled across her cleavage.

Haruka smiled happily, using her tongue to lick the cum on his cock tip and her tits as she purred like a jolly cat.

Panting, Renji fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He actually did feel a little better.

Haruka cleaned up with a wink, buttoning her clothes. "Better?" she asked him.

Renji nodded. His mind was clearer but he still had questions concerning the fight he just had with Kaito and his goons.

"Get your strength, Master," Haruka said. "So we can fuck hardcore like we used to. I have a class now."

Renji told her that he couldn’t wait to fuck your premium asshole again, and after she left, he spent the rest of the school day, taking aspirin and getting more stitches.

The school bell rang again, this time signaling the end of the school.

Renji slipped out of the clinic, the school hallways now eerily quiet as the last stragglers filtered out for Halloween preparations.

He was out of the school earlier than many since he went straight from the clinic rather than waiting for the teacher to finish.

Also, he didn’t want to run into Kaito’s goons for a second beat down.

Normally, he’d detour to the Sunshine Center, but today was a Friday which meant no Hana, and he was way too bruised to go anywhere but straight home.

The cab driver, who apparently was a stand up comedian, turned Renji’s predicament to a muse for his jokes.

Throughout the ride, he kept cracking jokes after jokes.

Renji didn’t find a single one funny.

His apartment building loomed ahead, and he was relieved to tell the man to stop and release him from that prison of bland jokes.

He unlocked his door to the welcoming warmth inside. The place was spotless as always, and of course, it was Reina’s handiwork: furniture arranged just so, the air humming with the soft aroma of simmering dinner.

She greeted him at the threshold, wearing a casual apron over lingerie, but her eyes widened in horror at his disheveled state. "Master! What happened? Your face—oh God, come sit down!"

Renji waved her off weakly, dropping his backpack by the door and easing onto the couch with a groan. "It’s nothing to worry yourself about, Reina. It was just a fight at school."

"A fight at school?"

"Yeah. Bullies. They jumped me after I stepped in for some kid. But hey, I beat the shit out of their leader, so I’m not really. I’ll live."

Reina fussed over him like a mother hen crossed with a devoted lover, fetching ice packs from the freezer and pressing them gently to his bruises.

Her heavy breasts brushed his arm as she leaned in, her touch soothing despite the sting. "Those monsters... I should go down there myself and—"

She cut off, biting her lip, her eyes filling with worry. "Let me make you comfortable. Dinner’s almost ready. I’m making stew and rice, warm and hearty. And after... anything you need."

He managed a half-smirk through his split lip. "Sounds good. But first, I gotta prepare for tomorrow. I have an interview, did I tell you?"

She gazed at him. "Vanguard Global Industries."

"Whoa. That’s a big place."

"Yes," Renji replied. "Which is why I show up looking like a punching bag."

Reina nodded, helping him to his feet and guiding him to the bedroom, where his desk awaited, stacked with notes and his laptop.

"Let me get you some chamomile, to relax those muscles." They kissed, her curves pressing against him in a comforting embrace before she bustled off to the kitchen.

Renji settled at the desk and pulled out the resume he had created.

Then, he flipped open his laptop, diving into research on Vanguard: Ayame’s mergers, stock trends, corporate buzzwords to parrot.

His goal was to learn as much as he could concerning the company and the position he was going to be interning for.

After two hours of studying, he peeled off his uniform top to take a shower.

But then, he suddenly froze, catching his reflection in the full-length mirror by the closet.

"What the hell?" He stared, stepping closer.

His reflection looked, really, really, really different.

The room’s light was highlighting contours that hadn’t been there before. His torso—once lean but unremarkable—was now unbelievably defined.

He could see abs rippling subtly under the skin, pecs more pronounced, shoulders broader like he’d packed on muscle overnight.

He flexed an arm, watching biceps bulge with newfound vascularity, veins tracing paths like rivers on a map. ..And height?

He glanced at the doorframe mark he’d scratched last month—5’10"—but now, eyeing it, he swore he cleared it by an inch or two.

’How did I suddenly get taller? And shredded? This isn’t right.’

His heart raced, a mix of exhilaration and dread churning in his gut. The bruises marred the view, purple blooms across his ribs, but beneath them was undeniable change—stronger, taller, more imposing.

What the hell is really happening here?

"Master?" Reina’s voice pulled him back, entering with a steaming mug of tea, her eyes widening at his half-naked form.

She set the mug down, her gaze roaming appreciatively. "You look... different. Stronger. It’s... wow."

Renji turned, masking his confusion with a cocky grin. "Okay then, so I’m not imagining this if you see it too."

"Well, it must be all that ’exercise’ lately," he said.

"I didn’t know... you’ve been... uhm... exercising," Reina said, her eyes unable to leave his body.

"Oh. I actually have. I go to the gym with a friend sometimes. Getting in shape."

She continued to stare. "You are in shape..."

Renji chuckled nervously. "I guess so."

He turned to look at himself in the mirror again.

His shoulders were broad, packed with muscle that rolled under his skin like sculpted stone. His pecs were thick, chiseled slabs, flexing with each breath, leading to abs that were a tight, rippling six-pack, each ridge sharp and defined, trailing into a deep V-cut that framed his hips.

He flexed his arms. They were unbelievably jacked. Not in the way of a body builder, but a warrior; aesthetic and yet threatening.

His biceps were bulging with power, veins snaking down his forearms like twisted cables. His thighs were massive, corded with muscle that screamed strength and explosive speed, and his calves were carved, tight as coiled springs.

And from the looks of it, it seemed the muscles were only just growing.

’What the hell is happening to me?’ Renji asked himself.