The guest room faced the back garden, its paper screens glowing faintly from the full moon. Aiko had aired it that morning—futon beaten, tatami swept, the faint scent of hinoki from the closet lingering like a secret. At 11:47 PM she slipped inside, barefoot, wearing only a thin cotton slip the color of moonlight. No panties. Her pussy had been dripping since dinner, the anticipation a slow burn that left her thighs slick.
Kenji arrived at 11:52, silent as a shadow. He locked the sliding door behind him, then the inner latch. The room was theirs now—no creaking stairs, no risk of Mrs. Sato's late-night dog walk. Just the hush of night insects and the low hum of the air purifier masking every sound.
He wore only black boxer briefs, the fabric stretched tight over his erection. Aiko met him halfway, fingers tracing the waistband before tugging it down. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the head already glistening. She wrapped her hand around it—still not enough to close her fingers—and stroked once, slow, reverent.
They sank to the futon together. No rush. Aiko lay back, slip riding up to her waist, legs falling open. Moonlight painted silver across her breasts, her belly, the swollen lips of her cunt. Kenji knelt between her thighs, but instead of entering, he leaned down—tongue tracing a lazy path from her navel to her clit. He licked her slowly, savoring every fold, every drop of her arousal. His fingers joined, two thick digits sliding inside, curling gently as his mouth sucked her clit in soft pulses.
Aiko's back arched, but she bit her lip to stay quiet. The futon muffled her whimpers. She came like that—slow, deep, her pussy clenching around his fingers, a gush of wetness coating his chin. He didn't stop. He kept licking, gentler now, drawing out the aftershocks until she was trembling, thighs clamped around his ears.
When he finally rose, his cock was flushed dark, veins pulsing. Aiko pulled him down, guiding him inside with one hand. He entered her in one smooth, unhurried thrust—stretching her open, filling her completely. They moved together like a tide: slow, deep, rhythmic. Her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locked, pulling him deeper with every roll of her hips.
Minutes blurred into an hour. The futon creaked softly beneath them, the air thick with the scent of sex and hinoki. Aiko came again—harder this time, her pussy spasming around him, squirting in hot bursts that soaked the sheets. Kenji groaned into her neck, teeth grazing her skin, but still he held back.
They shifted—her on top now, riding him with languid circles of her hips. Her breasts swayed heavily, nipples brushing his chest with each bounce. Kenji's hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks, fingers brushing close to her puckered hole but never pushing in. Just holding, guiding, letting her set the pace.
Another orgasm built, coiling tight in her belly. When it hit, she collapsed forward, mouth finding his, swallowing his groan as her pussy milked him in rhythmic pulses. Only then did he let go—pulling out at the last second, fisting his cock. Thick ropes of cum painted her belly, her breasts, one spurt landing on her parted lips. She licked it away, eyes locked on his, then scooped the rest with her fingers and sucked them clean.
They lay tangled, moonlight shifting across their skin. Kenji kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth. "Ten days," he whispered. "Then what?"
Aiko traced a finger through the cum on her breast, drawing a heart. "Then we keep going. Quietly. Carefully. This is ours."
He nodded, pressing a final kiss to her lips. "Always."
They cleaned in silence—wiping the futon with a damp cloth, folding the soiled top sheet into a tight bundle. Aiko slipped into a spare yukata from the closet. Kenji left first, barefoot, melting into the hallway like smoke. She waited five minutes, then followed, locking the guest room behind her.
Hiroshi's next call was scheduled for 7 PM tomorrow. Plenty of time to air the room, change the sheets, and sit demurely on the couch with a cup of tea—while Kenji's cum still leaked slowly from her swollen pussy, a secret sealed behind her smile.
The veranda wrapped around the back of the house, overlooking the dark garden where bamboo leaves rustled in the midnight breeze. It was 12:03 AM, the moon a thin silver crescent hidden behind clouds. Aiko had waited until the neighborhood dogs stopped barking and the last light on the street winked out. She slipped through the sliding door in a black silk robe, nothing beneath, the fabric whispering against her skin like a lover's breath.
Kenji was already there, leaning against the wooden railing in shadow, wearing only loose black shorts. The air was cool, raising goosebumps on her arms and tightening her nipples to aching points. She moved to him silently, robe parting as she pressed against his chest. His arms circled her waist, pulling her close; his cock was already hard, thick against her belly through the thin fabric.
No words tonight. Just the soft rustle of silk as her robe fell open. Kenji's hands slid inside, cupping her heavy breasts, thumbs brushing her stiff nipples. Aiko's breath hitched; her pussy clenched, a fresh trickle of arousal sliding down her inner thigh. She reached down, freeing his cock from his shorts—hot, veiny, pulsing in her palm. She stroked him slowly, base to tip, feeling him throb.
They sank together onto the wide wooden bench, cushioned with a folded blanket she'd left earlier. Aiko straddled him, robe falling off her shoulders to pool at her elbows. Moonlight filtered through the clouds, painting faint silver across her curves—breasts swaying, ass plump and round as she positioned herself over him.
She guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing the thick head through her slick folds, coating him in her wetness. Then she sank down—slow, deliberate—inch by girthy inch stretching her open. Her pussy gripped him greedily, walls fluttering as he filled her completely. When he was fully seated, balls pressed against her ass, she paused, savoring the fullness, the way he split her so perfectly.
They moved in near silence: slow rolls of her hips, his hands guiding her ass up and down. The bench creaked faintly, masked by the wind in the bamboo. Aiko leaned forward, breasts pressing into his chest, lips finding his in a deep, tongue-heavy kiss to swallow her moans. His cock dragged against her G-spot with every grind; her clit rubbed against his pubic bone in delicious friction.
Minutes stretched. The cool air kissed her sweat-damp skin; her nipples dragged across his chest with each bounce. Aiko's first orgasm built gradually, coiling tight in her core. When it hit, she buried her face in his neck, teeth sinking into his shoulder to muffle the cry. Her pussy spasmed around him, squirting in hot pulses that soaked his lap and dripped onto the blanket.
Kenji's hands tightened on her ass, spreading her cheeks as she rode through the aftershocks. He thrust up gently, meeting her halfway, prolonging the pleasure until she was trembling. She didn't stop—couldn't stop. Another orgasm followed, softer but deeper, her walls milking him rhythmically.
They shifted carefully: her on her back now, legs hooked over his shoulders, robe spread beneath her like wings. Kenji entered her again—slow, deep strokes that made the bench rock gently. The position let him hit even deeper; the head of his cock kissed her cervix with every thrust. Aiko's hands clutched the railing behind her head, knuckles white, biting her lip to stay quiet as wave after wave of pleasure built.
An hour passed in stolen breaths and muffled gasps. Aiko came twice more—once with her own fingers on her clit, squirting so hard it arced onto his belly; once from his cock alone, her pussy clenching so tight he groaned into her breast. Still, he lasted, stamina endless.
When he finally neared the edge, Aiko wrapped her legs tighter, pulling him deep. "Inside," she whispered against his ear—the only word spoken all night. Kenji buried himself to the hilt and came—thick, hot ropes flooding her depths, pulse after pulse until she felt full, overflowing. Her own final orgasm crashed with his, pussy spasming, milking every drop.
They stayed locked together, hearts pounding, until the clouds parted and moonlight spilled fully over them. Kenji pulled out slowly, his cum leaking from her swollen pussy in creamy rivulets, pooling on the blanket. Aiko sat up, robe loosely tied, and kissed him once—soft, lingering.
He left first, slipping inside through the door. She waited ten minutes, folding the soaked blanket into a tight bundle, hiding it in the laundry basket for tomorrow's wash. The cool night air dried the sweat on her skin as she lingered a moment longer, thighs sticky, pussy still fluttering with aftershocks.
Nine days left. But the nights were theirs, hidden in shadows and silence.