Izuna's eyes widened in shock at Inoue's size. He wanted to close the distance immediately, but he held back and smiled, asking softly,
"How about it? Think I've earned a little confidence now?"
"Of course," Izuna replied with a teasing grin. "In that case… why don't our confidence levels meet halfway?"
"Huh?"
Before he could ask more, Izuna stood up and pulled Inoue from the bed. Then—
Then she placed his thing between her breasts
"What do you think? Ever experienced something like this before?"
"N-no… never," he admitted.
He had tried it lying down once — an experiment in closeness that didn't quite suit the other person, ending as quickly as it began.
But now, the mingling of sight and touch sent a wave of heat through him. Izuna's eyes, filled with mischief and allure, lingered on him before she parted her full lips.
"It's my first time," she whispered.
"Huh?"
"No one's ever made me feel this full before."
Izuna's lips curved into a teasing smile as she leaned in, her breath warm against him.
The air between them trembled.
A low sound escaped Inoue, half-pleasure, half-surprise.
She met his eyes, her movements confident, practiced, almost dangerous.
When she finally pulled back, a playful glint lit her gaze.
"Don't lose control yet," she murmured. "We're just getting started."
He laughed softly. "Then let's switch things up."
Without another word, he guided her back onto the bed.
Her body arched toward him, daring and irresistible.
"Worth every penny," he breathed, hands tracing the shape of her curves as if memorizing them.
She gasped, eyes fluttering open, the sound somewhere between laughter and desire.
Her body reacted instantly, heat rising under his touch.
Seeing that, Inoue smiled faintly, the kind of smile that knew exactly what it was doing.
He drew her close, his breath tracing the edge of her skin.
Izuna was never one to hide her feelings.
"Ah… that's it… harder…"
The words slipped out between uneven breaths.
He didn't make her ask twice. The rhythm of his movements deepened, each motion sending another shiver through her.
"Yes… just like that…" she whispered, voice trembling between pleasure and need.
Izuna's breathing grew quicker, her voice trembling with rising excitement.
Inoue couldn't resist any longer — he slipped closer, the urge to feel her skin overwhelming him.
His gaze moved downward, tracing the lines of her body with quiet hunger.
A soft sound escaped his lips, half awe, half desire.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with heat.
He leaned in again, his mouth and hands finding their rhythm, each touch more deliberate than the last.
Izuna's body arched in answer, her breath catching as the moment deepened between them.
"Ah…" Izuna exhaled, voice trembling.
The sound of Izuna's soft response drew him closer; his hand found its way to her, driven by a mix of need and tenderness.
Soon he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his hand.
"Haah… mm…"
The warmth of his touch deepened, drawing from her a soft, involuntary moan.
"Does that feel good…?"
Izuna could barely think straight anymore.
"You're… amazing," she murmured.
Recently, she'd finalized her divorce. They had endured a long, loveless marriage before parting ways. She'd discovered his affair and quietly sought her own release at times. Ironically, though he cheated first, he was the one who filed for divorce.
Afterward, both gathered evidence, and she had to endure in silence. Repression has consequences—and Inoue had just flipped that switch.
"Mmh… Inoue… this feels so good…"
Maybe the intensity was too much to bear — Izuna finally gave in, letting go of the last thread covering her. She moved restlessly beneath his touch, unwilling to let the connection break for even a heartbeat.
"Don't stop, Inoue…"
With nothing left to hide, Izuna let him explore her freely, and he did — guided by the rhythm of her breath and the way she trembled beneath his touch.
His touch grew more deliberate, tracing patterns that made her body arch and her breath catch.
"Ah… mmm…"
Her soft moan didn't break the moment — if anything, it pulled him closer. Inoue silenced her with a kiss, fierce and tender all at once.
Then he drew her even closer, his touch growing more certain, more encompassing. Her mind went completely white.
Oh God… I can't think anymore. That finger
Inoue rubbed her with his right index finger and slid his left middle finger into her.
He then repeatedly inserted and removed his finger, the friction leading to pleasure.
"Mmh… ah…"
Her lips were sealed in a kiss, her breath escaping only as muffled sound. It made her even more breathless—and even more lost in the moment.
He's a total professional, she thought.
He didn't need direction—he already knew. He was far more skilled and confident than anyone before.
Turning left, turning right, patting, thrusting. The rhythm built higher and higher, like music climbing toward its peak.
"Mmm! Mmm!"
He felt her body respond and drew her closer, answering her with a kiss below her neck that burned a little deeper, a little longer.
"Inoue… I— I don't know what's happening to me."
Her voice had changed — softer now, threaded with affection and need.
Hearing it, Inoue understood without words and moved his fingers with renewed urgency, matching the rhythm of her breath.
"Ah—!"
The tension that had been building finally broke, washing over her in a rush that left no air, no thought, only sensation.
"I… I can't— it's too much," she gasped, her voice rising with the force of it.
It felt as if something inside her had spilled over, a heat she couldn't contain any longer.
Even so, Inoue's fingers continued to swirl, gently stimulating her.
"Inoue… I can't— it's too much!" she cried, her voice breaking into laughter and tears all at once.
And then it hit her — the rush, the release she hadn't felt in years, bursting through her like light after a long storm.
Izuna threw her head back, overcome, as if the world itself had tilted and left her weightless.
Wave after wave followed, not of pain or fear, but of something bright and impossible to name — the kind of feeling that left her trembling and alive.
A blinding light flashed behind her closed eyes, stealing her breath.
And then—suddenly—something shifted between them, a surge so powerful it made her gasp.
The world seemed to collapse into that single instant: heat, motion, and the sense that there was no going back.
Inoue moved with fierce urgency, as if all the restraint he'd held until now had finally broken.
She had already reached, so he, too, was trying to reach it quickly.
"Ah, ah, ah! Ahhh~ Inoue!"
"Do you like it?"
"Gasp, oh, it feels so good. Inoue, it feels so good."
"What should I do?"
"Keep f****** me. Harder, faster, deeper."
He was expressive—every movement, every breath charged with emotion.
Izuna could barely think; the memory of passion flickered faintly as her mind dissolved into heat and sound.
"I've never felt this before…" she whispered.
That made it all the more intoxicating—the release of everything she'd kept buried, the way her body responded to his, the rhythm that left her trembling and breathless.
The warmth between them built, unending, like a tide that refused to recede.
"I can't… I can't—Inoue, what do I do?"
He met her gaze, his voice rough with restraint. "Me too… I'm right there…"
Their words tangled, half-formed, as if language could no longer keep pace with feeling.
The world shrank to touch and breath, to the pulse that echoed through both of them until finally—everything broke.
Silence followed, heavy and alive.
Izuna drew in a shaky breath, her body still quivering from the aftershocks.
Inoue reached for her, brushing the hair from her face, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and awe.
Neither spoke for a long time.
The only sound left was their unsteady breathing, still caught in the fading warmth of what had just passed.
***
After nearly twenty-four hours without sleep—and two intense encounters with different women—Inoue was completely drained.
After the wild night with Izuna, his eyes closed on their own.
He didn't know how long he had slept, but when he woke, dream and reality felt blurred.
"Did I… dream that?" he muttered.
To clear his head, he quickly turned on the cold shower.
As the icy water hit his skin, his memories began to return one by one.
Being caught by George Bradley. Making love with George's wife, Kate Bretzel.
Then being chased away by George's jealousy and returning to the motel—only to be startled when George's ghost appeared before he could fall asleep.
And the strange "gift" he received, followed by those two back-to-back nights with different women.
No, it wasn't a dream.
He could tell something inside him had changed.
The faces of both women lingered vividly in his mind—not the faces they made during passion, but the way they looked when they talked to him.
Their emotions had reached straight into his heart. He wanted to capture those expressions on film somehow.
"Could it be… that I really inherited George's talent?"
He wavered between disbelief and cautious excitement.
But there was one more thing that bothered him.
"Was I always this… driven?"
He had always had a healthy appetite, sure, and he'd enjoyed sex before. But this felt different.
It wasn't about desire now—it was about overflow. An unstoppable current that had swept through him, satisfying both women completely.
"Don't tell me I inherited George's lust along with his genius," he whispered with a half-smile.
And maybe… even his womanizing streak.
In all his years, he had never juggled two women at once. Yet with Kate still fresh in his mind, he'd gone straight to Izuna without an ounce of guilt.
"Come on, it's not like I'm dating Kate anyway," he told himself.
He tried to rationalize it, but he could feel it—he had changed.
Even now, he was still justifying what he'd done, as if to make peace with the new version of himself.
"Alright. First things first," he said, shaking his head. "I need to get to George's house in Long Beach and find that treasure."
Then, and only then, would he start testing the limits of whatever gifts—or urges—George had left him.
After washing up and changing clothes, Inoue stepped outside. He opened the window and breathed in the evening air.
"When's Kate coming?" he murmured.
The sun had already started to sink. For a moment, he wondered if she'd ever come at all.
His stomach growled. Bread, milk, and juice had only gone so far; now hunger gnawed at him again.
And then—knock, knock.
He froze.
"Who could that be?"