The hot water poured down Konoko's body, making her skin flush as her fingers worked slowly at her pussy. Her breath was ragged, one hand sliding in and out, wet sounds echoing in the small space, while her lips hungrily sucked on her own nipple.
She moaned softly, "Mmm… ahhh…" trying to keep her voice down, but her hips moved on their own, chasing the feeling. The squelch of her core growing wetter filled her ears, mixing with the sloppy sound of her mouth tugging at her nipple. She was right on the edge, her body trembling—
Creaaak. The doorknob rattled, and the frame groaned like someone was pushing it open.
Her eyes widened in terror. "D-don't come in!! I-I'm naked!!" she screamed out, the words echoing off the wet tiles, her voice sharper and louder than she intended.
The door halted, frozen just a finger's width open.
Then came Gramps' voice, startled and apologetic: "Ah—s-sorry, sorry! I didn't know you were home… I didn't see you come in."
Konoko stood trembling, her hands dripping, the heat of her arousal instantly drowned in panic. Her chest heaved, her core still throbbing, and she pressed back against the wall, eyes locked on that sliver of open door, heart pounding loud enough to drown even the shower.
onoko sat stiffly on the sofa, her legs tucked close together, a steaming cup of tea warming her trembling hands. The faint scent of roasted barley drifted up from the cup, but it did little to calm the pounding of her heart.
Across from her, Gramps lowered himself onto the chair with a quiet sigh, scratching at his neck. His tone was soft, almost embarrassed.
"I really am sorry, Konoko. I should've knocked louder. I didn't mean to scare you like that."
She forced herself to nod, lips pressing into a polite little smile. "I-it's… okay, Gramps…" Her voice wavered. The tea sloshed slightly in her cup as her fingers betrayed the tension running through her.
Inside, though, her thoughts were spinning. He almost saw… he almost walked in… Her stomach twisted, heat rushing to her face. The image of her body—wet, flushed, fingers buried in her core, mouth sealed around her own nipple—flashed through her mind, cruel and vivid. If he had taken just one more step…
She squeezed her thighs together, trying to ground herself, but her pulse throbbed wildly, a cocktail of humiliation and frustrated arousal. Gramps kept talking, his voice warm and casual, trying to brush it away.
"You know, this old place… the doors are stubborn, been like that for years. I'll see if I can fix it up soon. You deserve privacy."
She nodded again, but her throat was dry, and she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. Privacy… yes… I need that. I can't let this happen again.
She sipped her tea quickly, hiding her flushed face behind the rim, though the taste barely registered. All she could hear was the echo of water splashing, the wet sounds she had made, and the creak of the door cutting through them.
Konoko sat curled up on the sofa, a blanket draped loosely over her legs, her body still heavy with the dull ache of a long shift. The tea cup she had been holding was already empty, but her fingers clung to it as though it anchored her to the quiet warmth of the room. Her eyelids fluttered, exhaustion making her body sink deeper into the cushions.
"Ah—almost forgot," Gramps' voice came from the kitchen, carrying that tone of cheerful discovery, as though he had just remembered some small treasure from the past. She straightened slightly, curious, but too drained to say much.
A moment later, he shuffled into the room with a tall glass in hand. The liquid inside was pale, a strange whitish-yellow with a faint creaminess that caught the light in a way that made her blink. He set it down on the low table beside her, the glass clinking softly against the wood.
"For you," he said warmly, smiling the way only an old man could, all crinkles and softness. "Made this myself. Fermented milk—good for the body, especially when you're tired like this. Used to fix me right up after long days."
Konoko tilted her head, eyes fixed on the glass. Fermented milk? She had tasted things like that before, but this… it didn't quite look the same. The surface had a slight thickness to it, clinging faintly to the sides when he set it down. She leaned closer, catching a subtle smell that was hard to place—slightly sour, faintly salty, yet oddly warm. It didn't resemble the sweet tang of the bottled yogurt drinks she sometimes bought in the city.
Her stomach, however, gave a low grumble, betraying her. She had worked hard, skipped dinner, and the fatigue was making her more vulnerable to anything offered with kindness. Still, her fingers hesitated above the glass, brushing its cool rim without lifting it.
Gramps chuckled lightly, as though reading her pause. "Don't worry, child. Old recipe. Nothing fancy. Just drink a little—it'll help you sleep deeper." He patted her shoulder gently, reassuring, like family.
Konoko swallowed, her throat dry. She wanted to be polite—he was giving her shelter, food, a place she had nowhere else to find. It would feel wrong to reject such a small gesture. And yet… her nose wrinkled faintly at that smell again, her mind whispering questions she couldn't quite shape into words.
It's just fermented milk, she told herself. He wouldn't give me anything bad. He's been nothing but kind.
Her hand finally wrapped around the glass, cool and slightly slick against her palm. She lifted it slowly, watching the way the liquid shifted inside, its thickness moving with a faint resistance. She pressed it near her lips but didn't sip yet, her heartbeat a little quicker than she expected for something so simple.
Gramps leaned back in his chair, eyes closing as though content just to wait, as if he already knew she would drink.
Konoko breathed out slowly, gathering courage. It's fine. Just don't think too much. It's just a drink.
She tilted the glass ever so slightly, letting the first drops touch her tongue.
Konoko forced down the last mouthful, but the taste clung stubbornly, heavy and strange, as if it coated her tongue. Her stomach gave a small twist of protest, and in her mind she winced.
Ugh… this is awful… it's so strong, so salty, not sweet at all. How can he even drink something like this? She pressed her lips together, trying not to show the discomfort on her face. Her thoughts churned, sharp with complaint, but her body stayed obediently composed.
She set the glass down gently on the low table, folding her hands over her lap. Her voice came out soft and careful, polite as ever, though it wavered faintly.
"Th-thank you, Gramps… you didn't have to go through the trouble just for me."
She forced a small smile, her lashes lowering to avoid his direct gaze. Inside, she wished she could spit the aftertaste away, wash her mouth, anything to clear the clinging flavor. Next time… I'll tell him I'm not thirsty. I can't drink that again…
Gramps, however, seemed pleased by her words, nodding with an almost proud smile, as if her thanks were enough to make the effort worthwhile.
Konoko kept her posture straight, her expression kind, all while her thoughts turned over the odd bitterness of the drink, the faint unease in her chest.