The golden afternoon light bathed the seaside living room in warmth.
Kyouko was straddling Haruki on the living room couch—her dress hiked up around her thighs, her hands resting lightly on his chest. Her breath was shallow, her cheeks flushed, but her expression—soft, calm, almost serene.
Haruki moved beneath her in a slow, controlled rhythm.
Not frenzied.
Just deep.
Just enough.
Her fingers curled slightly against his chest as his hips lifted again—pushing inside her, the fullness stretching her in that way she was now addicted to. Her lower back arched, but she didn't cry out.
She smiled.
The phone on the coffee table buzzed—Satomi.
Haruki hesitated, his breath sharp against her neck.
But Kyouko just leaned forward, pressing her lips near his ear.
"Don't stop."
Then she picked up the phone.
"Hello?" Her voice was soft, perfectly normal.
On the other end, Satomi's voice came clear.
"Ah, Mom. Haruki there?"
