Without relinquishing my grip on Asahi's's mouth with my right hand, I deftly undid the ties of her apron with my left, the fabric fluttering to the floor like a discarded whisper. The sudden revelation of her figure was nothing short of breathtaking.
I swallowed hard, my throat constricting as my gaze devoured the sight before me. Her breasts, a stunning, natural G-cup, strained against the confines of her shirt, threatening to burst free at any moment. The astonishing absence of a bra only served to heighten the tantalizing display, her nipples thrusting prominently through the fabric like ripe, succulent fruit.
Soft.
The word whispered through my mind like a benediction as my fingers closed around her breasts, cradling them with a reverence that bordered on the sacred. In that instant, I was transported to a realm of pure bliss, my senses singing with an unbridled joy. I kneaded her breasts with an instinctive, primal fervor, the sensation akin to nothing I had ever experienced before.
The urge to rip away her clothes, to plunge my throbbing erection into the depths of her vagina, was a siren's call, beckoning me with an irresistible force.
Yet, I resisted, my willpower straining against the leash of my desire.
'This is the moment I've been waiting for,' I cautioned myself, the words a gentle reminder of the need for restraint. 'I mustn't let my passion ruin this perfect, fleeting instant.'
As I continued to knead her breasts with a slow, deliberate care, her nipples began to harden, the transformation palpable even through the thin fabric of her shirt. The sound that escaped her lips was a low, throaty murmur, a gentle 'Mmm...' that spoke volumes of the pleasure that was building within her.
A gentle, almost imperceptible moan escaped her lips, but being so close to her, I caught the soft sound with ease.
"It's suffocating my chest," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Your husband must be thrilled to have the chance to massage them every night."
Her words were met with a sudden, exasperated groan from me. "Ugh!"
I leaned in, my lips brushing against the delicate skin of her neck, which glistened like freshly fallen snow. I lavished her neck with tender kisses, my tongue dancing across her skin, leaving a trail of gentle licks and soft sucks in its wake.
The sound of our skin meeting echoed through the air - a soft, intimate smack that seemed to reverberate deep within my chest. As I repeated the motion, a delicate hickey began to form on her neck, a subtle reminder of the passion that was building between us.
My tongue gradually wandered upwards, tracing the contours of her neck before reaching the delicate curves of her ear. I explored every nook and cranny, my tongue probing the sensitive areas with an unrelenting gentleness. Her ears were immaculately clean, and with each delicate lick and suck, her body trembled with an almost imperceptible shiver.
Meanwhile, Asahi's's nipples had grown so taut they seemed to be straining against the fabric of her shirt, their hardness almost palpable. They looked almost painful, as if they were begging to be freed from their confines.
I stole a quick glance at her eyes, expecting to see a flicker of fear or apprehension, but instead, I was met with a warm, gentle glow that seemed to emanate from the very depths of her soul.
A low, husky chuckle escaped my lips, and I couldn't help but think that this world was nothing more than a fictional realm, a fantasy born of my own desires and imagination. "...Ha." The sound was barely audible, but it seemed to speak volumes about the surreal nature of our encounter.
In the realm of reality, it was unfathomable to think that a woman would genuinely feel a thrill of excitement as a stranger, exuding an aura of menace, fondled her breasts and lavished her neck with lascivious licks. The notion was utterly absurd.
With a calculated deliberation, I spoke in hushed tones, my words dripping with an air of malice, "I'm going to remove the hand that's been silencing you. Don't even think about screaming or making a scene. We're in a residential area, and no one will come to your rescue. Any attempts to escape would be futile, and might just seal your fate."
A muffled sound escaped her lips, "Mmmph."
Her head bobbed up and down, a faint nod of acquiescence.
With a deliberate slowness, I wrapped my left hand around her left breast, squeezing it with a firm, unyielding grip. Her body tensed, and a stifled moan escaped her lips, "Mmm...!"
My words were laced with a sinister intent, "I don't plan on taking your life. This will be a one-time transgression. After today, I'll vanish from your life, and you'll never have to endure my presence again."
Her response was a silent, fearful tremble, her body quivering with each ragged breath.
She nodded once more, her eyes wide with terror.
As I removed my hand from her mouth, I felt the warmth of her saliva on my skin. Strangely, I didn't perceive it as dirty or repulsive. The sensation was almost... intimate.
Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mix of fear and resignation, as if she had surrendered to the darkness that had consumed her.
As I slid my right hand over the curve of her buttocks, the gentle swell of her flesh felt tantalizing, even through the barrier of her jeans. The subtle contours of her body seemed to mold perfectly to my touch, sending a shiver of anticipation through me.
"Is this really just a one-time thing...?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.
I let out a low, mirthless chuckle, the sound dripping with malice. "Do you think you're the only woman of your kind in this world?" I sneered, the words tumbling from my lips like a challenge.
As I laughed, she turned her gaze away, her eyes darting towards the side as if seeking escape. But I wouldn't let her hide. I grasped her chin firmly with my right hand, my fingers closing around her jaw like a vice. I pulled her face back towards me, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her features were delicate, enhanced by the subtle sheen of light makeup that accentuated her cheekbones and highlighted the gentle curve of her lips. I had always been particular about faces, and hers was a true masterpiece.
"Open your mouth," I commanded, my voice low and husky with desire.
For a moment, she hesitated, her lips compressing into a thin line as if she were steeling herself against my demands. But I wouldn't be denied. "Open it," I repeated, my tone firmer, more insistent.
Slowly, reluctantly, she parted her lips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of neat, white teeth and a demure, pink tongue. I leaned in, my mouth claiming hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. I had no technique, no finesse – this was my first kiss, and I was driven solely by instinct and desire. I forced my tongue into her mouth, teasing her inner lips and the tender flesh within.
At first, the married woman resisted, her body stiffening against mine as if she were trying to pull away. But when I tightened my grip on her breast, her resistance began to falter. Her muscles relaxed, her body yielding to my touch as I continued to tease her with my tongue. Soon, she gave up all pretense of resistance, allowing me to explore her mouth with impunity.
As I slowly pulled away, my heart threatened to shatter the confines of my chest, pounding with an unrelenting ferocity that seemed to reverberate throughout my entire being. My arousal, too, had reached a fever pitch, my penis straining with an almost unbearable tension, as if it was poised on the precipice of release. Yet, despite the turmoil raging within me, I forced a mask of calmness onto my face, feigning a composure I was far from feeling.
"If I'm satisfied," I began, my voice low and husky, "this will all be over soon. But if I'm not..." I let the sentence hang in the air, the implication clear. "How long do you think it will take?"
The married woman's eyes narrowed, a hint of skepticism creeping into her voice. "...Really?" she asked, the single word laced with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
I raised an eyebrow, a questioning look on my face. "What?" I asked, my tone neutral, inviting her to elaborate.
Her gaze locked onto mine, a fierce determination burning within her eyes. "If you're satisfied..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "will it really end?"
A low chuckle rumbled in my chest as I realized the root of her concern. "If you have a husband," I said, my words dripping with a sly amusement, "then surely you must know what happens after a man is satisfied."
The woman's face fell silent, her expression unreadable. But I could sense the turmoil brewing within her, the uncertainty and trepidation that threatened to consume her.