Siesta | The Familiar Of Zero

The late afternoon sun, a hazy amber through the leaded glass panes of the academy’s grand library, cast long, languid shadows across the polished oak tables. Siesta, her delicate hands tracing the worn leather spine of a forbidden tome, felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest, a sensation that had little to do with the fading sunlight. It was the quiet hum of her master's presence, a subtle shift in the air, that always brought this tremor of anticipation. She adjusted the crisp white lace of her maid uniform, a small, almost imperceptible movement that did little to conceal the graceful curve of her ample backside beneath the fabric. Her thoughts, usually a disciplined catalog of chores and duties, were instead filled with the image of Saito Hiraga, her beloved familiar, and the nascent, thrilling feelings that simmered between them. It was a forbidden longing, a whisper of a desire that grew louder with each stolen glance, each accidental touch.

She had always been his maid, his loyal servant, but lately, the lines had blurred. The way he looked at her, a raw, unguarded intensity that mirrored her own burgeoning desires, sent a delightful shiver down her spine. He was her knight, her protector, and in the quiet moments, he was becoming something far more intimate. The scent of old parchment and polished wood filled her nostrils, a comforting aroma that was now intertwined with the phantom scent of his skin, a clean, masculine musk that drove her imagination wild. She imagined his strong hands, the same hands that wielded a sword with such fierce determination, now reaching for her, exploring the soft contours of her body. A flush crept up her neck, a tell-tale sign of her inner turmoil. She knew these thoughts were improper, that a maid should be seen and not heard, but Saito… Saito made her forget all her training, all her decorum. He made her feel like a woman, not just a servant.

A soft cough, barely audible above the rustle of pages, announced his arrival. Siesta’s heart leaped into her throat. She turned, her movements smooth and practiced, but her inner core was aflutter. There he stood, Saito, his usually unruly brown hair a little disheveled, his familiar grin a touch softer, more knowing, as he met her gaze. He was wearing his usual simple attire, but to Siesta, he was the most magnificent sight in the world. His eyes, that familiar, innocent blue, held a spark of something new, something that mirrored the unspoken yearning in her own. He carried a stack of books, his task to help her organize the less-used sections of the library, but Siesta suspected his true purpose was far more personal. He always found excuses to be near her, to share these quiet, intimate moments away from the bustling academy and the watchful eyes of others. The air between them crackled with an unspoken understanding, a delicate tension that made her breath hitch.

“Siesta,” he began, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate deep within her. “I’ve brought the rest of the history texts. Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He took a step closer, and Siesta’s senses sharpened. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, see the slight flush on his cheeks. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than strictly necessary, a silent question hanging in the air. She knew he wasn’t just offering to help with books. He was asking for her, for her attention, for a moment of their shared, private world. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a trapped bird. “Oh, thank you, Saito,” she managed, her voice a little breathy. “Your assistance is always… appreciated.” The unspoken words, *especially your presence*, hung heavy in the silence between them.

He set the books down on a nearby table, his movements deliberate, almost casual. But Siesta saw the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes kept returning to her. He was as aware of the growing intimacy as she was, as eager, perhaps even more so. He walked towards her, his steps closing the distance, and Siesta found herself rooted to the spot, her entire being focused on him. The scent of his familiar, earthy musk was stronger now, a potent aphrodisiac that sent tendrils of desire coiling through her. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes for a fleeting moment, savoring the exquisite sensation. When she opened them, his face was inches from hers, his blue eyes dark with an emotion that made her tremble.

“Siesta,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I… I can’t keep pretending this is just about books, or duty.” His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, sending shivers of anticipation through her. “I want you. I want you so badly, Siesta.” The confession, so raw and unguarded, stole her breath away. This was it. The moment she had both longed for and feared. Her trained composure, her ingrained sense of propriety, crumbled under the weight of his honesty and the undeniable pull she felt towards him. Her hands, which had been clasped demurely in front of her, rose to meet his, her fingers tangling with his. “Saito,” she whispered back, her voice trembling. “I… I want you too.”

The declaration hung in the air, a fragile, potent promise. His gaze softened, and then, with a sigh that seemed to carry all his pent-up desire, he leaned in. His lips met hers, tentatively at first, a gentle exploration, a question. Siesta responded with a fervor that surprised even herself, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming a passionate exchange, a silent conversation of shared longing and escalating desire. Her body melted against his, the stiff lines of her maid uniform a stark contrast to the yielding warmth of her flesh. She felt his hands move from her face, down her neck, his touch sending waves of heat through her. They were no longer master and familiar, no longer just Saito and Siesta. In this stolen moment, in the hushed sanctity of the library, they were simply two souls consumed by a passion that had been simmering for too long.

His hands, calloused from his sword, were surprisingly gentle as they moved to the buttons of her uniform. Each button undone was a wave of exquisite torture, revealing more of her pale, trembling skin. Siesta’s breath came in ragged gasps as the fabric parted, revealing the creamy expanse of her décolletage, the swell of her ample breasts. Saito’s eyes widened, a flicker of pure awe in their depths, before he lowered his head, his lips tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. A soft moan escaped her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He nuzzled against her, inhaling her scent, his touch growing bolder as he explored the curves of her body. His gaze fixed on her chest, the generous mounds of her breasts straining against the lace of her chemise, and Siesta’s heart thrummed with a mixture of shyness and thrilling anticipation.

He paused, looking at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. Siesta, caught in the throes of this unexpected intimacy, could only offer a breathless nod. She wanted this. She wanted him. With a soft groan, Saito’s hands moved to the front of her uniform, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the remaining fasteners. The crisp white fabric fell away, revealing her in all her modest glory, her large, full breasts spilling forth, their rosy tips already hardened with anticipation. She felt a blush of embarrassment, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sheer, overwhelming arousal that coursed through her. Saito’s gaze was a tangible caress, his appreciation evident in the way his eyes devoured her. He reached out, his large, warm hand cupping one of her breasts, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive peak. Siesta gasped, arching into his touch, her knees feeling weak. The sheer size and fullness of her breasts, a source of some self-consciousness in her daily life, now felt like an offering, something to be adored, and Saito’s adoration was intoxicating.

“You’re… beautiful, Siesta,” he breathed, his voice thick with admiration. He lowered his head, his lips pressing against the soft skin of her cleavage, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. Siesta shivered, her fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders. He continued his ministrations, his mouth exploring the valley between her breasts, his tongue tracing the delicate lines of her skin. The sensation was almost unbearable, a sweet agony that made her arch her back, her hips instinctively swaying towards him. Then, his lips found the rosy crown of her nipple, and a choked sob of pleasure escaped her. He suckled gently at first, then with more urgency, his tongue teasing and tasting, his lips enveloping the entire mound. Siesta cried out, her body convulsing with each sensation, her mind a blissful haze of pure, unadulterated bliss. Her large breasts felt heavy, full, aching for his attention, and Saito was more than happy to oblige, his every touch and taste igniting a wildfire within her.

His fingers began to trace the curve of her hips, the swell of her belly, and then moved lower, to the hem of her simple maid skirt. Siesta held her breath as he gently lifted the fabric, his touch feather-light, revealing the smooth expanse of her thighs, the delicate lace of her undergarments. He paused, his gaze lingering on the enticing glimpse of what lay beneath. The anticipation was a torturous delight. Siesta’s mind raced, her body thrumming with a desperate need. She wanted him to see her, to know her, to touch her completely. He reached for the waistband of her panties, his fingers brushing against her bare skin, and Siesta could only whimper, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness she had never known. He slowly, deliberately, slid the fabric down her legs, revealing her most intimate secrets. Siesta was bare from the waist up, her ample breasts a testament to her womanhood, her lower body clad only in a delicate pair of panties.

Saito’s eyes, dark with desire, scanned her body, taking in every curve, every swell. Siesta felt a blush rise to her cheeks, but there was no shame, only a thrilling sense of vulnerability and a fierce desire to please him. He knelt before her, his gaze unwavering, and gently cupped her face in his hands. “You’re magnificent, Siesta,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. He then lowered his head, his lips brushing against the delicate lace of her panties, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Siesta gasped, her legs trembling. He kissed the lace, his breath warm against her skin, and Siesta’s mind swam. She had never imagined such intimacy, such raw, uninhibited desire. Her body was a temple of desire, and Saito was the devout worshipper, his every touch a prayer, his every kiss a benediction. She longed for him to touch her directly, to feel the full extent of his desire against her own.

He kissed his way down her stomach, his lips trailing sparks along her skin, until he reached the waistband of her panties. With agonizing slowness, he began to push the delicate fabric aside. Siesta whimpered, her fingers clenching in his hair. She wanted him to see her, to taste her, to claim her completely. His lips finally met her most sensitive skin, a soft, tender kiss that sent a wave of pure ecstasy through her. Siesta cried out, her hips arching involuntarily. Saito’s tongue darted out, teasing the sensitive folds, his touch both gentle and insistent. He began to kiss and lick her with a passion that was almost overwhelming, each stroke of his tongue sending her further into a dizzying vortex of pleasure. Siesta’s world narrowed to the exquisite sensations, the rhythmic pressure, the building storm within her. Her large breasts heaved with each gasp, their fullness a testament to her arousal. She clutched at Saito’s head, her nails digging lightly into his scalp, as the pleasure intensified, building to an unbearable crescendo. “Saito… oh, Saito…” she moaned, her voice a breathless whisper, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

Finally, with a shuddering sigh, Siesta felt the sweet release wash over her, her body convulsing as waves of pure pleasure rippled through her. She clung to Saito, her strength momentarily gone, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He held her close, his lips still against her, a soft murmur of reassurance in his voice. As the last tremors subsided, Siesta slowly, shakily, looked up at him. His face was flushed, his eyes still dark with passion, but now softened with tenderness. He smiled, a gentle, loving smile, and Siesta’s heart swelled with an emotion so profound, so overwhelming, that it brought tears to her eyes.

“That was… incredible,” he whispered, his voice still rough with emotion. Siesta could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak. He gently lifted her, his arms strong and secure, and carried her to a secluded alcove within the library, a place of velvet cushions and forgotten lore. He laid her down, his gaze never leaving hers, and then, with a renewed intensity, began to explore her body again. This time, his touch was more demanding, more possessive. He unbuttoned his own shirt, revealing his lean, muscular chest, and Siesta’s eyes widened with admiration. He lowered himself onto her, his weight a comforting pressure, and his lips found hers again, this time with a hunger that mirrored her own. Their bodies molded together, the slickness of their skin a testament to their shared arousal.

His hands moved to her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples, sending delightful tremors through her. Siesta gasped, arching into his touch, her large breasts pressing against his chest. Saito’s gaze darkened, his desire palpable. He lowered his head, his lips seeking the rosy peaks, and Siesta cried out as he began to suckle, his mouth enveloping her nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth. Siesta’s body tensed, her hips rising to meet his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair. The pleasure was exquisite, overwhelming, and she felt a familiar ache building within her, a need for something more. As he moved to her other breast, his tongue teasing and tasting, his lips leaving trails of fire on her skin, Siesta’s breath hitched. She craved his touch, his intimacy, in a way she had never imagined.

Saito’s hands moved lower, his fingers tracing the curve of her stomach, then sliding beneath the hem of her panties. Siesta’s breath caught in her throat as his fingers brushed against her most sensitive flesh. She whimpered, her hips involuntarily tilting towards him, seeking his touch. He kissed her deeply, his tongue swirling with hers, as his fingers began to explore her with a deliberate, tantalizing pace. He teased her, his touch light and playful at first, then growing more insistent, more demanding. Siesta gasped, her body arching against his. She felt a delicious friction, a building pressure that was both agonizing and intoxicating. Her large breasts heaved, their fullness a testament to her escalating arousal. She moaned his name, a desperate plea, as the pleasure intensified, building to an unbearable crescendo.

Finally, with a guttural cry, Saito pushed into her. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and Siesta cried out as she felt him fill her completely. Her body tightened around him, a perfect fit, and she clutched his shoulders, her nails digging lightly into his skin. They moved together, a primal rhythm, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Siesta’s eyes were closed, her face a mask of pure ecstasy, her mind lost in the blissful sensation of him inside her. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust, their generous size a visual testament to the passion they shared. She felt his powerful thrusts driving her deeper and deeper into a vortex of pleasure, each movement sending shivers of delight through her entire being. She whispered his name, her voice a broken plea for more, her body responding with an uninhibited passion she had never known.

The rhythm quickened, their movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. Siesta felt the pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter within her. She arched her back, her hips meeting his with an almost frantic intensity. Saito’s groan echoed hers, his voice thick with exertion and raw desire. He pushed deeper, harder, and Siesta felt herself spiraling towards the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, she felt the sweet release wash over her, her body convulsing in a series of exquisite tremors. Saito cried out, his own release joining hers, his body shuddering as he poured his essence into her. They collapsed together, their bodies entwined, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The silence that followed was thick with a profound intimacy, a shared experience that transcended words.

Siesta lay in his arms, her body sated, her heart full. Saito’s hand gently stroked her hair, his touch tender and possessive. The afternoon sun had dipped lower, casting a softer, more intimate glow throughout the library. She nestled against him, the scent of their shared passion a potent reminder of the incredible intimacy they had just experienced. The forbidden longing, the unspoken desires, had finally found their voice, their expression. In the hushed sanctity of the library, amidst the scent of old parchment and the weight of forbidden knowledge, Siesta and Saito had found a new kind of connection, a bond forged in the fires of passion and sealed with a love that was as deep and as profound as any magic.