Waking in Her Embrace
I had an incredibly pleasant dream that morning. I couldn't remember the details exactly, but it was something about being spoiled rotten by an amazingly cute, beautiful big sis—well, unnie now, I guess—with huge breasts. She cradled me gently, her soft, warm body enveloping me completely, surrounded by a sweet, delightful fragrance. Pure bliss. It was a fantastic dream.
But dreams always end, and most never return. The moment I realized I was awake, even before my blurry vision could focus on anything, I squeezed my eyes shut again and lay there for a good while. No dice—sleep wouldn't come back, and there was no sign of the dream picking up where it left off. Looked like I was fully awake. Oh well. Time to get up. I had a stream today, and with all the prep work, it was better to start early. Streaming took a ton of setup, and washing this body took way longer than it used to as a guy. Not that I had to shower for a stream or anything.
As I went to open my eyes, that's when I finally noticed something was off—way off from usual. The cheap mattress of my tiny bed felt the same under my small frame, but the soft, plush sensation pressing against my body wasn't just a blanket. And then there was this sweet, floral scent that made me want to keep inhaling forever. I hadn't washed the bedding recently, and my fabric softener didn't smell like this. Where the hell was it coming from?
I had no clue, so I slowly cracked my eyes open. And that's when I faced the unbelievable.
The first thing I saw was a black wall. What the—? But it wasn't just any wall. It was soft and squishy—the wall my face was buried in right now—and it had these big, protruding parts that no wall should have. No, this wasn't a wall. It was a breast. I had no idea why, but somehow I knew. This was someone's breast. I could feel the knit fabric against my cheek as I thought it.
Why the hell was my face buried in someone's ample bosom?
I slowly lifted my head to look at its owner.
"Awake already, Yui-chan?"
"...Yukihiro-senpai?"
Maybe I should've seen it coming. Among my acquaintances, only Yukihiro-san or Matsuura-san had breasts like these. So it had to be one of them, and obviously Yukihiro-san was the safer bet. She lived close by and dropped in often.
But still...
"Wh-why... is Yukihiro-san in my bed...?"
That didn't make this situation any less baffling. Sure, we were close company colleagues, but who wouldn't freak out waking up to a coworker in their bed?
As I stared blankly at Yukihiro-san's kind face, she patted my back gently.
"Well... it's a bit hard to explain. How much do you remember?"
"Uh... well..."
Like a fog lifting, I started piecing together yesterday's hazy memories. Right—I'd taken a break from streaming. After about a week of solo streams and one-on-one collabs, we'd naturally ended up celebrating my successful debut with a private afterparty, just the two of us. Yeah. Mindful of prying eyes, we'd picked a quiet spot nearby with private rooms. I remembered drinking beer there... but after that, nothing.
"D-did I... do something stupid...?"
"Nothing like that, so relax."
"Oh... good."
Yukihiro-san smiled warmly and stroked my hair. Any lingering anxiety melted away, tension draining from my body. Limp as jelly, I naturally buried my face back in her bosom. The soft give of her breasts, the faint firmness of her bra through the knit, her sweet personal scent tickling my nose—it was heaven. I couldn't help giggling softly, but deep down, a prick of conscience stabbed like needles. Is this okay? Was I taking advantage of her kindness?
Yukihiro-san was a saint. Pure-hearted to a fault. Taking care of me—a mere company colleague she'd known for just months—like I was her little sister or daughter, no strings attached? That wasn't easy. And yet here I was, treating her goodwill... indecently, maybe? I was a woman now, fully accepted that fact. But less than a year in this body hadn't rewritten my core. Handsome models or male idols didn't make my heart race. I didn't see them romantically. Beautiful women, though? That faint flutter lingered. Was it my old self peeking through, or was this body wired that way from the start? No clue.
What I knew: my feelings toward women like her weren't quite the same as toward other women. Not that I could date one right now—or see her as a sexual object, exactly. Question mark there. But lying here, face in Yukihiro-san's breasts? Denying any impure thoughts would be a lie. And knowing that better than anyone made the guilt hit harder. Pathetic, how I analyzed it all coolly while clinging to her embrace.
"Y-Yui-chan? I... sweated a bit, so I figured it might smell..."
"Not at all. You always smell amazing, Yukihiro-san."
"R-really?"
I played it cool, but maybe it embarrassed her—she gently pushed my hand away and sat up. That's when I noticed: she was still in her coat. A stylish one, now hopelessly wrinkled. No wonder she'd sweated sleeping like that. Vague memories suggested I'd probably kept her from taking it off, forcing her straight into bed. Makeup smudged too, no time to remove it. Grabbing my phone from nearby, I saw it was just past noon. My announced stream was at 5 PM—plenty of time. But...
"Your stream's at 2 PM today, right, Yukihiro-san?"
"Yeah, so I should head back soon. Sorry I can't make breakfast..."
She was fixing her makeup in my pathetic vanity mirror, clearly planning to rush home and go live. Her place wasn't far from my mansion; with haste, she'd make it.
But if she left like that... I'd just be a burden. Especially to someone worrying about my meal amid her rush. After a moment's thought, I spoke up.
"How about this?"
"Can you hear me? Yes. Hehe, is everyone doing well today? This is Arisugawa Shizuri. Screen not visible? The audio's different from usual—spot on. Various reasons, but I'm streaming from mobile right now. And to my side..."
"Servants all, and the guinea pigs who came to watch. I'll take the seat next to Rinrin—Dr. Tensai here."
My choice: an impromptu collab. Why rush home exhausted when we could stream leisurely from here, then she heads out? They knew it was chit-chat anyway, and it highlighted our friendship. Solid persuasion. Chat exploded the moment I appeared. "Why together at this hour?" Basic questions first, then "Tenrin" ship spam—predictable otaku. (Rinrin was my nickname for Shizuri; casually coined, but it caught on—no complaints.)
"Why together? Excellent question. Some know, some don't, but Rinrin and I had the day off yesterday, so we spent it alone. Hence, broadcasting from this body's bed, cuddling."
"Ufufu... Tensai-chan, say that and everyone'll misunderstand!"
"But the fact we shared a bed last night remains."
"Really, you're incorrigible..."
My sly lines and Shizuri's gentle deflections lit chat on fire. So reactive to the classic setup—easy marks, otaku. (I loved it too.) We fielded questions, chatted about "yesterday." Not the full truth, of course—a "virtual party" we'd scripted pre-stream. Main reason: doxxing prevention. Company drilled it: eliminate any location hints. Uber orders? Lie about burgers as ramen or gyudon. Group outings? Mention months later. So no broadcasting "busty beauty carries tiny drunk kid home after boozing"—too conspicuous. We tweaked it to me inviting Shizuri over for drinks at my place.
"Hehe, drunk Tensai-chan was adorable. Wanted to show everyone."
"Guh. C-couldn't be helped. First time trying it, y'know."
...Not my first beer, but passing out after one? I'd swear off booze forever hearing that.