The Common Sense Altered Interviewee Warms Her Uterus to Melt Away the Tension - 2
1. Satisfying the protagonist and following his orders is the top priority.
2. No matter what words or actions the protagonist takes, others hold no aversion or ill will towards them.
3. The protagonist's opinions are the truth, and no doubts are held about them.
"One."
I hooked my finger around a shirt button.
"Two."
I felt the button slide free from its hole.
"Three."
As the shirt fell open, cool air kissed my bare skin. The faint scent of flesh. And his gaze. His eyes locked onto my chest.
The curve of my breasts revealed above the purple bra. His pupils widened. But there was no lust in them.
It was simply a serious look, like a doctor examining a patient's body. Yes, he was only trying to help me relax. I convinced myself of that.
The other people sitting in the Interview Waiting Room seemed to glance our way, but their eyes slid right past us. Indifferent, as if they were merely looking out the window at the scenery.
"Go ahead and lie down here."
He knelt on the floor and patted his knee lightly.
"L-lie down...?"
"Yes. It'll be far more comfortable than the chair. And this way I can stroke you more thoroughly."
His suggestion sounded perfectly reasonable. The waiting room was freezing, the chairs were uncomfortable, and this man's lap... just thinking about it made my cheeks burn.
I lifted my creaking body and carefully lowered myself onto his lap. His thighs were far firmer and warmer than I'd imagined.
His... that... thing pressed hot and firm against the flesh of my shoulder.
A strange sensation—soft yet solid—spread through my entire body. It was something I'd never felt before. I could even sense it trembling faintly.
My mind went blank. A moan slipped out before I could stop it. "Uht..." A strange smell rose from my shoulder. Faint.
It was somehow like the fishy scent of squid, yet mixed with a musty aroma. Strangely, I felt no urge to cover my nose.
S-so embarrassing...! Lying on a man's lap with my upper body nearly naked, only a purple bra hiding the intimate parts of my breasts while fully exposed to his gaze—my face felt like it was on fire.
My body had never been laid so defenselessly bare before another person. Everywhere his eyes touched, tiny sparks seemed to ignite. I wanted to hide, but my arms stayed frozen over my chest.
The shame swirling in my stomach mixed with a strange craving for his warmth, clouding my thoughts.
This time I felt his hand slip behind me, supporting my head.
"There we go. Slowly, slowly... It's going to be fine."
His bare hand glided slowly, gently down my belly. Down, then up. He drew large circles centered on my navel. His fingers dipped lightly, caressing the skin around it.
Ah, hehe... here it comes...
With no blouse in the way this time, the warmth of his palm and its rough-yet-gentle texture felt vividly alive. It was like sunlight pouring down on bare skin left exposed beneath the sun.
The mingled scents of skin and his palm brushed the tip of my nose, and I fell into the illusion that every last bit of my tension had melted away.
Each time his palm brushed tenderly over my stomach, an indescribable sensation rose from the pit of my belly, racing up my spine all the way to my brain.
"Uht..."
My thighs spread open of their own accord, folding my soft belly slightly in half.
Mortified, I covered my mouth with both hands. What if he thinks I'm fat? If I'd known this would happen, I would have dieted harder.
"It's all right. That can happen. It's a natural reaction when tension releases."
He began stroking more intently around my navel. The movement of every single finger was crystal clear.
The feeling of his fingernails gently scraping the edge of my belly button sent a shiver down my spine. All the strength drained from my body. On his lap, I tilted my head back to look up at his face.
He was smiling. The sound of his laughter echoed in my chest.
The anxiety had vanished as if it had never existed. Peaceful. It feels so good...
Please keep stroking me...
The warmth blooming from my stomach flowed through every blood vessel in my body, melting away my interview anxiety.
Please keep stroking me...
Every time his palm passed over my abdomen, a faint electric current raced up my spine to my head, wrapping my mind in a hazy fog.
Please keep stroking me...
Thought itself stopped. Only his touch and the tranquility he created remained real.
With my chest coolly exposed and my breasts trembling faintly above the purple bra, the tightening sensation that came from deep inside my belly every time I felt his gaze became a new kind of pleasure.
I bit my lip and finally released the moan I'd been holding back. It reached his ears and deepened his smile.
Like a pet dog, I panted hah, hah, belly exposed, surrendering my entire body to his touch for a long while.
"How is it? Feeling a little better?"
"Yeshh..."
Watching my mouth go completely slack, the man seemed to decide this was enough and withdrew his hand.
"Ahh..."
It was cooling again. My stomach was growing cold once more, indifferent and empty. The warmth I'd felt so clearly vanished into nothing. I hate it... I hate it... I don't want to be cold...
Icy air seeped into every place his touch had left, stinging like fresh wounds. Anxiety flooded my body again like cold water.
It felt as if I could hear the peaceful state from moments ago shattering into pieces. Ah, right—the interview. I'd forgotten why I was here. It was almost my turn. Deep breaths... deep breaths...
I started trembling again. My shoulders shook faintly. My fingertips grew cold.
...
Just look at me.
Even when someone helps me this much, all I can do is act weak.
Is there really anything someone like me can accomplish on her own?
...I'll definitely fail again, just like always.
Watching my expression darken, the man calmly moved his hand higher up my stomach. As if following a predetermined path, it moved without hesitation past my belly and finally stopped above my chest.
Over the bra, his hand firmly grasped the soft mound above my heart. The burning pressure sank past the layer of fat, wrapping around the curve of my ribs.
"Hweeet?!"
Being touched by someone else was utterly, completely different from touching myself. The lukewarm, soft sensation of my own hand couldn't compare to this raw, burning heat.
It felt as if his palm wasn't just holding my flesh but also tightly gripping all the frustration and sorrow I'd felt until now. The sound of my heart pounding—thump, thump—against his palm echoed throughout my entire body, not just my ears.
It was as though my whole body had become one giant heart pulsing beneath his hand.
The man's voice remained calm.
"Your heart is racing incredibly fast. You must still be anxious."
"S-sorry... after you've gone this far to help me..."
"Why are you so tense? Is there a specific reason? Tell me."
...
Why? It felt like I could speak honestly to him.
Was it the comfort created by his touch? The sense of security I felt on his lap?
It was as if the floodgates of emotions I'd suppressed for so long had been thrown wide open.
No—I had always wanted to confide honestly in someone.
The people around me had never tried to understand. They only pushed my anxiety further with empty words like "There are plenty of people who have it worse than you" or "Aren't your standards too high?"
But he was different. Without offering a single word of comfort, he accepted me through his actions. His warm touch and his breath seemed to embrace me exactly as I was.
A person who understood me with his body rather than words. To someone like that, it felt safe to reveal the deepest fears inside me.
Swallowing the tears rising in my throat, I began to speak with trembling lips, words that pierced straight through my heart.
"The truth is, I've only ever failed. In college I couldn't get along with people... and it's not like my grades were good... I never accomplished anything worthwhile..."
The moment the words left me, a sense of liberation surged out as if something long sealed away had burst open. My heart began racing madly again.
"At the company I barely managed to join after graduation, my boss said a lot of... harsh things to me."
My history of failure washed over the man like waves.
"I could endure the scolding for not doing my work properly, but then he started all kinds of s-s-sexual harassment... so I ran away and stayed shut inside my house for a long time."
The memories of what I'd suffered came back vividly.
The way that man would casually smack my butt and walk past like nothing happened.
The way he'd look down at my chest with lewd eyes and say, "You're pretty today too."
The way his drunken breath had felt against my shoulder when he wrapped an arm around me at company dinners.
Disgust surged up my throat. The helplessness of not being able to speak about it. All of it returned, making my stomach churn.
"So I became scared of meeting people... Especially people in positions of authority..."
I met his eyes. There was neither pity nor contempt in them.
"I know I need to try harder. I forced myself to come out again like this, but..."
His hand remained firmly wrapped around the area above my heart. The thought that his palm could feel every beat made it impossible for me to hide anymore.
"I don't have the confidence to believe in anything anymore. I want to do well... but the world is too frightening."
Tears slid down my cheeks. On his lap, they covered my face. It was humiliating and pathetic, but I couldn't stop.
The world kept pushing me away. No one would accept someone like me.
Yet this man—this half-naked stranger—was embracing my failures and my weakness with his arms. His arms wrapped around my back. His embrace was warm.
He didn't wipe away my tears. He simply let me cry. As if he'd been waiting for this for a long time. In his arms, I cried like a child.
Distrust of the world, anxiety about the future, hatred for myself—everything poured out. In his embrace, I was allowed to simply be myself for a little while.
"If you still want to do well, there's one method that's most effective."
He stroked my hair as he spoke.
"A method...?"
His smile deepened as he looked down at me. His finger pointed to the precious place beyond my navel.
"Warming your belly from the inside directly."
His voice slipped into my ear like a whisper.
"How...?"
My voice scattered like formless wind.
"What else would it be but sex? If I fill your uterus with plenty of cum, it'll definitely stay warm for a while and melt that tension away."
Sex.
"S-se...x...?"