Haruna and Yuko rushed to instantly, their voices trembling with concern. Haruna’s small hands hovered near my waist, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to reach out and check for herself but didn’t dare.
Yuko, still flushed from the earlier embarrassnt in the onsen, bit her lower lip so hard it turned white, her eyes darting between my damp yukata and the way the fabric clung obscenely to my still-hard cock. The outline was unmistakable—thick, veined, and straining against the thin material.
I forced a calm smile, though my body was still thrumming from Saki’s very thorough "cleanup." The way her fingers had traced the shape of my cock through the fabric, the way she’d lingered just a second too long—it had been anything but accidental. "Don’t worry, I’m fine... Thankfully, the tea wasn’t hot."
I turned to Saki, who had finally—reluctantly—pulled her hand away from my crotch. Her fingers were still slightly damp, and I could swear I saw a glint of sothing wicked in her dark eyes. "Mrs. Saki, are you okay? You didn’t get burned..."
Saki’s cheeks were flushed, but not from embarrassnt—no, this was sothing far more deliberate. She shook her head, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"No... I’m fine... It’s my fault..." Her voice was soft, almost demure, but there was a hint of mischief in the way she spoke, as if she were savoring a private joke. "Let bring you a change of clothes..."
She slipped out of the room before I could respond, her kimono swaying with each step. The fabric clung to her full, round ass, the movent so deliberate it was almost a tease.
The way her hips rolled, the way the silk of her kimono whispered against her skin—it was all part of the ga.
Kasumi, ever the observant one, chid in, her voice warm but laced with amusent. "Jack, you should go wash yourself... It’s not good to leave things like that..." Her eyes flicked to my crotch, where the damp fabric clung obscenely to my still-hard cock.
There was a knowing glint in her gaze, as if she understood exactly what had happened—and was secretly enjoying the show. "The fabric will chafe... and you don’t want that, do you?" Her tone was light, but the implication hung in the air like a promise.
I nodded, my throat tight, and excused myself, heading to my room. The mont the door slid shut behind , I stripped off the damp yukata, letting it fall to the floor in a heap.
My cock sprang free, rock hard and glistening, the head already flushed a deep, angry red. The veins along the shaft pulsed with every heartbeat, and a bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, evidence of just how thoroughly Saki’s touch had affected .
I was just about to grab a towel when the door suddenly slid open with a soft whoosh.
Saki stood there, a fresh yukata draped over her arm—and her eyes locked onto my cock. For a long, charged mont, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue darting out to wet them as she took in the full, throbbing length of .
The air between us crackled with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. Her gaze was hungry, almost possessive, as if she were morizing every inch of .
I reacted on instinct, covering myself with my hand and turning slightly away, though the damage was already done. She’d seen everything—the veins pulsing along my shaft, the way it twitched under her gaze, the bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. And judging by the way her breath hitched, she liked what she saw.
Saki’s voice was smooth, almost too casual, as if she hadn’t just been caught staring at my dick like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
"That, Mr. Jack... there is a bathroom in my place... It’s best to wash yourself with cold water instead of soaking in the onsen..." Her words were innocent, but her tone was anything but. There was a challenge in her eyes, a dare. You know I saw. You know I wanted to.
I wrapped the fresh yukata around myself, the fabric doing little to hide the obscene tent my cock was still pitching.
Following her, I couldn’t help but notice the way her kimono hugged her full, swaying hips, the way the fabric parted slightly with each step, offering glimpses of her thick, creamy thighs. The scent of her—jasmine and sothing muskier, sothing uniquely her—filled my nose, making my head spin.
Saki led to her private quarters, and the mont I stepped inside, I froze.
This was not like the traditional rooms of the onsen. No, this was modern, luxurious, and undeniably sensual. The walls were lined with dark wood, the floor covered in plush, deep red carpets that felt like velvet underfoot.
A low, king-sized bed dominated the center of the room, draped in silk sheets that shimred under the soft, dim lighting. The air was thick with the scent of incense and sothing sweeter—her perfu.
And there, laid out on the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world, was a set of red fishnet lingerie. Not just any lingerie—this was designed to tornt.
The fishnet was so sheer it was almost invisible, the dark red fabric clinging to the curves of an imaginary body. The nipple cutouts were circular, frad with delicate lace, ant to expose rather than cover.
The pussy slit was a bold, vertical opening, the edges trimd with the sa lace, leaving nothing to the imagination. A matching garter belt and thigh-high stockings were arranged beside it, the kind that would hug her legs like a second skin.
My cock jerked violently in response, straining against the yukata so hard it was almost painful. Fuck. This was no accident. Saki had planned this. The spilled tea, the lingering touches, the lingerie—it was all a ga. And I was the prize she’d set her sights on.
Saki turned back to , her lips curled in a slow, knowing smile. "The bathroom is through there..." She gestured toward a door at the far end of the room, but her eyes never left mine.
"Cold water should... help." Her voice was soft, almost mocking, as if she knew damn well that cold water wouldn’t be enough to ta the fire she’d started.
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