Oh Right, This Was Treatment

Oh, right. This was supposed to be a treatment session.

I was leaning my upper body across from the driver's seat toward Serafina in the passenger seat. Chwup, chup. After a stretch of heated kissing, her hand somehow found its way to the inside of my thigh.

And there, already standing rigidly at attention, was my cock. Her palm closed around the heavy column with a soft tap. It was a bit too weighty to pass off as a gear shift, and Serafina's eyes flicked downward to confirm what she'd grabbed.

Her gaze traveled down. Slowly. Very slowly.

"……!"

"It seems the treatment produced a few side effects, Major."

"S-side effects…?"

"My blood flow's spiked rather dramatically. …As you can see."

I tilted my chin toward where her hand was resting.

Serafina's face flushed crimson. She snatched her hand away in a panic—but the motion only made things worse.

"Hahk…."

The friction dragged a low groan out of me. My cock twitched hard against nothing, and my whole body flinched.

"Ngh…!"

Hearing that reaction, Serafina bit her lip. She raised her head slowly, studying my complexion, and asked in a trembling voice:

"Do I… need to calm this down?"

I couldn't hold back a wry, crooked smile.

"If we leave it alone, I don't think I'll be able to drive."

Serafina couldn't quite bring herself to refuse.

This time, she leaned her upper body toward the driver's seat. The neckline of her evening dress gaped, revealing a tantalizing line of cleavage. With trembling fingers, she reached for the buckle of my trousers.

"…I've never been taught how to do something like this."

She grumbled, but her hands never stopped. The zipper came down, the strained fabric of my underwear was pulled aside—and the heavy column sprang free, rearing its head.

"……!"

Her sapphire eyes quivered as if an earthquake had struck. A thick pillar laced with throbbing veins; the swollen, turgid crown already glistened with clear beads of precum. She swallowed dryly without realizing it.

Status Analysis.

"Just use your hand. There's nothing complicated to it."

I offered the advice with deliberately calm composure, sinking deeper into the seat. At length, Serafina's pale hand carefully wrapped around the tip of my crown. The contrast between her cool palm and the feverish heat of my cock felt exquisite.

"L-like this…?"

She began moving her hand up and down with painstaking care. Her touch was soft, but hopelessly clumsy—barely more than gripping a stick and shaking it.

Awkward was the word. Sometimes she squeezed too tight and the pressure bordered on painful; sometimes her fingernail grazed the sensitive crown.

But it wasn't bad. Not at all—because this was Serafina, pinned inside a cramped car, her gaze locked between my legs as she fumbled with my cock.

"Your hands are… remarkably soft, Major."

"……D-don't say useless things. I'm concentrating, so be quiet."

So she said, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from my lower half.

"Still… I'm afraid hands alone won't quite be enough."

I let the disappointment show in my voice.

"What…?"

Her hand faltered. She looked up at me, puzzled.

"There's simply too much blood rushing through. I need something a little… warmer and wetter. Only then will the stagnant energy break up."

The intent was obvious. Serafina's lips twitched, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and her gaze dropped. Her throat bobbed.

"……You want me to use my mouth."

"If you'd rather not, I won't force you."

"……Haah."

She let out a short sigh, then swept her tousled silver hair back behind one ear. An elegant, utterly obscene gesture.

"…Only today. Only as part of the treatment."

Serafina lowered her head slowly. When her hot breath brushed the tip of my cock, the muscles along the inside of my thigh clenched on their own.

"……"

She screwed her eyes shut and pressed her lips to my crown.

Chup.

A careful, tender kiss—the kind you'd give a lover.

The heat of her lips against my cold-skinned tip was searing, and above all, I could faintly feel the waxy texture of her lipstick. When she pulled back, a red mark bloomed at the very tip.

"Haah…."

At the low sound I made, Serafina's shoulders jumped. Emboldened by my reaction, she opened her mouth a little wider.

Nalm.

A red tongue slipped out between her lips and licked up the length of my crown.

"Mmm… chwup, haljjak…."

Clumsy. She had no idea how to work her tongue, so she simply lapped at the surface like she was savoring a piece of candy. But that very awkwardness—such a stark contrast to her usual airtight composure—stirred something dark and conquering in me. Serafina von Reinhardt was licking my cock.

"Take it into your mouth. Keep your teeth off it… and use your tongue a little more actively…"

At my instruction, Serafina shot me a sidelong glare but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did as she was told.

Chwup.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

A warm, wet heat swallowed my crown. The top half of my shaft vanished into Serafina's mouth.

"Nnngh…."

Her tongue slid along the length of me, then her whole mouth closed over the crown in one enveloping wave.

"Haah, chwuh, chwup…."

Her cheeks hollowed. She had no vacuum-suction technique to speak of, but the tight clamp of her jaw and the pressure of her lips squeezed down on me all the same.

Chwureup, chwub…!

Before long she began to bob her head up and down. Her evening dress swayed with the rhythm of the motion. Through the gaping neckline, the spill of her upper body left her pale breasts plainly visible, swaying and jiggling beneath the silk. The graceful line of her neck was bared to my gaze as well. The visual satisfaction was considerable.

"Haah… You're doing well. It's helping a great deal."

Without a shred of ceremony, I reached out and stroked Serafina's hair—praising a noblewoman, a Major, the way one might praise a cute subordinate.

Silver hair spilled softly between my fingers.

"……!"

At my touch, Serafina froze mid-motion, tongue still hard at work. She didn't slap my hand away, the way her pride demanded—and she didn't nuzzle into it for more, the way Hannah would have. Instead, a tangle of complicated emotions flickered through her eyes as she looked up at me.

Embarrassment, first. Her instincts must have been recoiling from an insolent subordinate daring to lay a hand on her head.

But Serafina couldn't refuse outright. Because this hand—this hand was the one that had saved her from her Mana Overload.

"……"

She endured my touch for a long moment—and then, as if snapping out of a daze, slowly drew her head back. The motion was anything but decisive. Just a belated attempt to salvage her dignity.

"…Captain."

She forced her voice into something stern.

"I have been tolerating this as part of your treatment. Do not cross the line."

She tried her best to glare at me.

"I am your superior officer. …I will decline being treated like a pet."

But her expression was already flushed, her breathing ragged. Far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more desire radiated off her than dignity.

Status Analysis.

"My apologies. The patient was enduring his treatment a little too well, and I forgot myself."

"……The treatment. Yes. Because of the treatment."

She used my excuse as a crutch to convince herself. I gave a faint, knowing smile.

"Then we should proceed to the deep-tissue phase of the treatment… though I'm afraid we'll need to adjust our position first."

"Position?"

"Sitting like this is far too cramped, isn't it? To do this properly… we'll need closer contact."

I yanked the lever under the driver's seat. With a rusty groan, the chair slid all the way back. Having secured the space, I patted my thigh.

"Come here, Major."

Serafina's face twisted. The driver's seat was narrow, and being told to climb on top of me meant she would have to be the one moving—actively.

"…Here? You want me to mount you inside this sardine can of a car?"

"Or perhaps you'd prefer to move to the roomier back seat?"

"……Ha."

She exhaled a short breath, conceding there was nothing to say. Her gaze flicked—just once—over the pillar standing stiffly upright in my lap.

"…Truly, there's no other way, is there."

Grumbling all the while, she lifted her hips.

Rustle, sliide.

Vehicles of this era had no console box between the seats. Thanks to that, she glided smoothly onto my lap, and I steadied her naturally, one hand at her waist.

Serafina twisted her hips this way and that as she settled onto my thighs. Her plump rear spread and flattened against me, and through the finest silk, the warmth of her body mingled with the soft, yielding feel of her flesh. A pleasant pressure pressed down on my thighs and stayed there.

And then there was Serafina, face to face with me at point-blank range. Bracing her back against the steering wheel, her legs splayed to either side across the seat, wrapped around my waist.

"Haah… this position is, far too…"

She grumbled, hands braced against my shoulders.

"Endure the discomfort, Major. Isn't the treatment urgent?"

I flattened my palm and glided it slowly up the smooth inner side of her thigh. Cool and flawless as the finest porcelain, yet taut with an elastic resilience—utterly distinct from Hannah's blanket-like softness and warmth.

Deliberately, I pressed down hard on a sensitive spot along her inner thigh.

"Nngh!"

Her head tipped back, baring the swan-white line of her throat. I buried my nose against it and drank in her scent—a trace of expensive perfume lingering at her nape.

Then, in a voice of mock seriousness, I whispered:

"We'll need to check the circulation in your upper body as well. This dress is far too tight."

Without waiting for an answer, I slid both hands inside her neckline.

"Hahk…!"

Serafina's breath caught. But I didn't stop; I pushed my hands deeper. The brush of silk across my knuckles lasted only an instant before something far more worthy of admiration met my palms.