Lust on the First Day

Chapter 1: The Boss's Call

Genya adjusted his tie in the cracked bathroom mirror of the office building, his nerves buzzing like a live wire. At nineteen, he was raw, hungry, and desperate to make a good impression on his first day. But beneath the crisp shirt and polished shoes, a darker hunger gnawed at him—a relentless, throbbing need that had haunted him for years. Nymphomania, the doctors called it. A curse, he thought. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to drown the heat pooling in his core, and muttered to himself, 'Keep it together, idiot. Don’t screw this up.'

The office was a maze of cubicles and stale coffee smells, but Genya’s eyes kept darting to the corner office where Sanemi Shinazugawa, his boss, ruled like a goddamn warlord. Thirty years old, built like a fighter, with scars on his knuckles and a smirk that could cut glass, Sanemi was the kind of man who commanded attention without trying. Genya had caught a glimpse of him earlier, barking orders with a voice that sent a shiver down his spine. 'Fuck,' Genya thought, 'why does he have to look like that?'

Halfway through the morning, a sharp voice crackled through the intercom on Genya’s desk. 'New kid. My office. Now.' Sanemi’s tone was all business, but there was an edge to it, a challenge that made Genya’s pulse race. He stood, smoothing his shirt, and walked to the office with a mix of dread and something dangerously close to excitement.

Sanemi was leaning against his desk when Genya entered, arms crossed, his piercing gaze raking over him like he was sizing up prey. 'Close the door,' Sanemi ordered, and Genya obeyed, the click of the lock sounding louder than it should have. 'You’re the new hire, huh? You look like you’re about to bolt. Nervous?' Sanemi’s smirk widened, predatory.

Genya squared his shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. 'Not nervous. Just... eager to prove myself.' His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed him, flicking to the way Sanemi’s shirt strained over his chest.

Sanemi chuckled, low and rough. 'Eager, huh? I like that. But let’s get one thing straight—I don’t tolerate slackers. You fuck up, you’re out. Got it?' He stepped closer, invading Genya’s space, the scent of his cologne sharp and intoxicating.

Genya didn’t back down, his own defiance flaring. 'I don’t plan on fucking up. But if I do, I’ll make damn sure it’s worth it.' The words slipped out before he could stop them, laced with a heat he couldn’t suppress. Sanemi’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with something unspoken.

'You’ve got a mouth on you,' Sanemi said, his voice dropping to a growl. 'Careful, kid. I might have to put it to better use.' He reached out, his hand brushing Genya’s jaw, rough and deliberate. Genya’s breath hitched, his body betraying him as heat surged through him, hard and insistent.

'Try me,' Genya shot back, his voice a dare, his eyes locked on Sanemi’s. He wasn’t some trembling pushover—he wanted this, needed it, and he’d be damned if he let Sanemi think he was in control. 'Unless you’re all talk.'

Sanemi’s grin was feral as he grabbed Genya by the collar, pulling him in. 'Oh, I’m gonna enjoy shutting you up,' he snarled, and then their mouths crashed together, all teeth and hunger. Genya pushed back just as hard, his hands gripping Sanemi’s shoulders, the tension between them exploding into raw, desperate need. They stumbled against the desk, papers scattering, as the world narrowed to the heat of their bodies and the promise of what was coming next.