Chapter 67: Masturbation
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67: Masturbation
Lifting her skirt to reveal her private parts without the slightest hesitation, Beatrice, as if she knew no shame, began to casually touch herself.
She gently rolled her clitoris, which protruded like a small bean, occasionally giving it a light pinch. Then, she softly rubbed the entrance to her vagina, where fluid was trickling out as if she were wetting herself.
Of course, perhaps because she thought the vaginal fluid was just pee, she didn't put her fingers inside...
“Hngh, haah—this feels so good... I've been doing it every day lately...! Yohan, let's do it together!”
It was the childlike innocence of wanting to share something that feels good. Although one could hardly call her innocent from the moment she started fiddling with her pussy with her skirt hiked up, she felt not a shred of embarrassment or shame.
She must not have known that what she was doing was something to be ashamed of. And the reason for that was simple.
‘...Come to think of it, I've had sex in front of Beatrice plenty of times.’
The day I lost my virginity, and even when I was just having sex at home—she'd caught me several times, leaving me in an awkward spot.
Each time, I'd just laughed it off awkwardly as if it were nothing—but perhaps because I'd instilled in her the wrong idea that it was "nothing," she had ended up with a warped perception of sex.
Should I give her proper sex education now? What if she realizes what she's doing is shameful and bites her tongue off in humiliation?
“Haang- haak, hak! Hnngh... Yohaaaan...”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
“Nnngh—it's just, saying your name while I do this makes it feel even better... so I called for you.”
Even so, she didn't stop masturbating. Since it was an organ created solely for pleasure, her pussy was soaked as if she'd wet herself.
She would reach her climax soon, and the thought of stopping her to explain what masturbation was seemed too difficult a task.
‘If only she were a complete child...’
If she were a child, say, kindergarten-aged, I would have immediately grabbed her hand, told her she shouldn't do this, and started her sex education.
I would have instilled a proper understanding of sex in Beatrice. But now, looking like a middle schooler, her playing with herself in front of me created an ambiguous situation where I could neither stop her nor sit her down for a lesson.
“Haat- hak- heeeek- hnnnngh...!”
While I was agonizing over it, Beatrice finally reached her climax. She bit down on the hem of her lifted dress, her body trembling as she came.
It would have been much better if the place she came wasn't my bed... After finishing, Beatrice panted heavily and hugged me.
“Yohan, Yohaaaan...”
“...Yeah.”
“The feel-good thing, why aren't you doing it?”
“Well, that's...”
“I learned by watching you. Here. Yours was different from mine, big and long. When you touched it, you peed—pyut, pyut—and it felt good...”
As she said this, Beatrice started fiddling with the front of my pants. As it became clear that I was the one from whom she'd learned to masturbate, Beatrice continued to fiddle with me over my clothes.
The scent of her cooling fluids and the beads of sweat from her masturbation drifted into my nostrils. It was the smell of a female in heat. The kind that drives a male wild...
Even though I had just finished raping Hekaterina, my cock, faced with a new female, began to throb, growing insanely hard.
Beatrice, who had been fiddling with my cock over my clothes, saw the bulge in my lower abdomen and giggled.
“It got bigger. Yohan, does it feel good?”
“...It feels good, but.”
“I'll make it feel even better.”
Zzzzip—.
With those words, Beatrice pulled my pants all the way down. With my cock now exposed to the world, she placed her hand on it, just as she had on her own pussy, and began to rub her fingers all over it haphazardly.
Every time her fingers brushed against the dry, high-friction head of my cock, an unbearable groan escaped me. Hearing my pained sounds—euk, euk—Beatrice must have thought I was in pain, as she tilted her head and looked up at me.
“...Does it hurt? Yohan, does it not feel good?”
“...It does a little, the way you're touching it.”
“Then how should I do it to make it feel good?”
“...You have to touch it like this.”
In the end, reason lost. It wasn't enough to watch a mentally immature young girl masturbate; now I was teaching her how to give a handjob.
If this were Earth, I'd be called a criminal and thrown in jail, I thought, as I carefully began to guide her hand over my cock.
A small, delicate hand. The vaginal fluid on it from her own masturbation coated my cock smoothly, providing a pleasure greater than masturbating alone.
A woman's body, from head to toe, how can it feel so good? Her pussy, her mouth, her hands, her breasts. Not a single part is wasted; they all offer the ultimate pleasure.
“Does it feel good, Yohan?”
“Yeah. It feels good.”
“Really? Am I doing a good job? Do you want me to do this every day?”
“It's not so good that I'd want it every day...”
“Whyyy? I touch myself between my legs thinking about you every day. It feels good even if I do it every day.”
Despite having just finished masturbating, she must have gotten excited again from talking while fiddling with my cock—Beatrice started touching her own pussy again.
As she did, she kept glancing up at me, and the reason was simple. She wanted me to touch her pussy for her.
Even though I'd just fucked a witch, I couldn't refuse this temptation. I never imagined I'd feel desire for such a small girl, but all the witches were so stunningly beautiful it was impossible to push them away.
In the end, I couldn't resist her gaze and cautiously reached out my hand. Beatrice shifted her hips slightly, spreading her pussy wide open for me to touch.
Her pussy was still warm, not yet cooled from her recent climax. It was so hot it felt like it would burn my cock if I put it inside.
“Nnhhng—!?”
As I gently caressed her pussy, Beatrice reacted even more intensely than when she'd touched herself—whether because she'd just climaxed, or because it was me touching her.
Her waist and legs trembled, she spurted her fluids, and all the while, she never stopped fiddling with my cock.
The sight was incredibly lewd, yet her intentions were utterly pure. Seeing that, I felt the urge to cum build up like crazy.
“Ngh—Beatrice... I'm about to...”
“Nnngh—Yohaaan... Let's feel good together?”
With those words, Beatrice began to move her hand up and down faster, and I too rubbed her pussy more quickly, preparing for the final spurt.
And finally—we both came at the same time.
“I'm, cumming...!”
“Haaaaangh—!”
Semen shot out forcefully, soiling Beatrice's clothes, while the fluid she released dirtied my hand and the bedsheets.
The once-clean room was now filled with the scent of a male and female after mating, thick with pheromones. We both panted, gasping for breath as we looked at each other.
Our eyes met in mid-air—and we both broke into bashful smiles.
“Yohan, did that feel good?”
“It did.”
“Me too... I'll do it for you again anytime, just say the word.”
She said this as she looked down at her dress. The white semen was beginning to stain the dark red fabric.
If left like this, the stain would set and completely discolor the dress, but...
“I think we need to wash your dress.”
“Nnngh... too much trouble...”
“But...”
“It's a pain for you too, right? Let's just sleep.”
“No, that's a bit...”
I wasn't thrilled about the idea of sleeping while hugging her in a semen-stained dress, but I had already cum twice today, and I couldn't bring myself to push away the whining, clinging Beatrice.
On account of those two facts, I carefully closed my eyes.
Beatrice, who had fallen asleep in Yohan's arms, carefully opened her eyes. In the dead of night, when everyone was asleep, the man holding her was also sleeping soundly.
‘Yohan...’
Beatrice gazed at him as he slept peacefully. At his face, his lips, his nose, his eyebrows, his handsomely tanned skin, and the way it all came together.
To be honest, his face was far from handsome. "Manly," viewed generously, was the best compliment one could give him.
And yet, Beatrice—and not just her, but all the other witches—couldn't help but love him. Because he was the only outsider who could enter their world.
‘I think I'm sick.’
She thought this as she recalled the times Yohan spent with the other witches. Because of a curse, she could only hear half of his conversations with others, half of the words exchanged.
Seeing Yohan share stories she didn't know with the other witches made her heart feel troubled. Her chest would pound, and a strange, wicked feeling would well up inside her.
Beatrice had never learned that this feeling was jealousy. Still, she knew it was not a good emotion.
“Yohan.”
She called his name. Naturally, there was no reply, yet she moved as if she had heard one.
Wriggling closer, Beatrice pressed her lips against his in a clumsy kiss. His slightly rough lips met hers, and her face began to burn as her heart started to pound.
‘What should I call this?’
Love. It was a sickness she didn't know.
The next morning.
Perhaps because I'd cum twice, I woke up late.
So late that my Teacher, who was an early riser, came looking for me when I didn't wake up.
“...Yohan?”
My Teacher's voice, tinged with anger. I cautiously opened my eyes to find her glaring fiercely at me.
Why? I didn't have to think long. I shifted my gaze to Beatrice, who was lying on top of me. Her dress had ridden up as she slept without any underwear, clearly revealing her pale, smeared vulva.
“Heeh... So you've decided to lay your hands on all of them, have you?”
“No, Teacher. This is...”
“Enough. Yes. Just do whatever you want, Yohan.”
With that, she turned and left the room like she was sulking. I watched her go, then let out a deep sigh and looked at Beatrice on top of me.
Perhaps thanks to the commotion my Teacher had caused, she woke up, rubbing her eyes.
“Nnngh—Yohan, good morning.”
“...Hey, you.”
“What? Are you in a bad mood, Yohan? Want to do the feel-good thing with me?”
Looking at her staring at me so purely, as if she knew nothing—I could only make a dumbfounded expression.