11. Wonderland (9)
11. Wonderland (9)
All thought crashed to a halt the moment her lips met his.
Her breath, her scent, her skin.
The world felt saturated with her.
The strength drained from his body, his lips parting on their own.
That was all the opening she needed—her tongue slipped between them with devastating ease.
She plundered every corner of his mouth.
The kiss was so intense, so deep, it felt as though she meant to devour him.
She systematically assaulted his sensitive spots—mapping where a lick would draw a groan, where a nip would make his waist flinch.
He couldn't pull himself together.
He tried to push her away, but no strength would come to his arms.
Yurakne found his rebellion utterly endearing.
His resistance read less like a refusal and more like a signal begging her to pin him down.
At the perfect moment, she detached her lips from his.
His tongue, which until now had done nothing but get dragged around one-sidedly, was just beginning to stir of its own accord.
Her retreat was timed exquisitely.
His tongue chased hers out past his lips. Only then did he realize the action he'd just taken.
Yurakne breathed into his reddened ear, her whisper tickling the fine hairs.
"Aww, was someone disappointed, my dear Troupe Leader? Did you like my kiss that much?"
His face flushed scarlet with shame.
The teasing lilt in her voice humiliated him even further.
She gave him no window to offer an excuse. She pulled back the slit of her robe, exposing the leg she'd kept hidden. Thanks to her tightrope-walking training, the muscle was trim and sleek. She slid it between his thighs.
The front of his trousers had been straining, fit to burst, for some time now.
Yurakne rubbed her thigh against the stiff length pitching a tent against the fabric.
"Ah—!"
The sensation was so unnervingly electric that Wonderstein failed to stifle the yelp. A single motion scratching over the slit at the tip delivered a dose of pleasure so intense it was hard to process.
His reaction seemed to surprise Yurakne more than it did him.
To be this sensitive?
Didn't normal men usually desensitize themselves a little during masturbation?
She nibbled on his earlobe and murmured.
"Boss. Just how lewd is this body of yours? Heh, you pervert."
Look who's talking.
He wanted to retort, but the words caught in his throat.
Because her leg was moving again. She didn't stop at a single pass this time. She kept her thigh constantly grinding against the crown of his glans.
"Hn, nghh—!"
Nothing but helpless, pleasure-soaked moans escaped him.
Each brush of her leg made his length bounce violently up and down.
"S-stop... ha, ngh, ugh... Y-Yura... Miss Yura..."
His breath came in ragged pants as his hips squirmed from side to side.
This was a kind of stimulation he had never experienced before.
He had never once masturbated in his entire life.
A lifetime spent rolling and crawling on the ground from infancy had left his penis stained a dark, sooty black and terribly desensitized. Stimulating himself by rubbing or scraping against the ground was out of the question.
And so he'd existed in a state of perpetual, pent-up frustration.
He had a perfectly healthy sex drive like any other man, but no practical means to resolve it.
But now, for the first time since he was born, he was tasting the extremes of sexual sensation.
His face, already flushed, now had tears welling in the corners of his eyes.
"Nghh... Y-Yurak... ah—!"
Every time he cried out, Yurakne thought she might die trying to swallow the laughter bubbling up inside her.
This man—so strong, so reliable—was pinned beneath her, whimpering.
Overwhelmed by pleasure as if he were a teenage boy who had just discovered masturbation for the first time.
He was adorable. Beautiful. She wanted to torment him more.
"Huhu, your mouth says no, but your body's awfully honest, isn't it? You bashful little thing."
"Ah, aah..."
Wonderstein gazed up at her with tear-damp eyes.
The woman toying with his body was not the usual, bashful and slightly scatterbrained girl he knew.
That provocative smile and the eyes gleaming with sensual allure were the Spider Woman from the stage, made flesh.
Still holding him, she toppled forward.
Their bodies overlapped on the bed.
She seized his lips again.
The first kiss had been her solo stage, a one-woman frenzy.
But the second had a slightly different dynamic.
She still dominated the performance, but her partner had begun to move in sync.
Wonderstein threw his reason aside and surrendered his body to instinct.
The hands that had been pushing her away now clutched and twisted her full breasts. His tongue, which had cowered within the confines of his own mouth, boldly invaded her territory.
It was rough, clumsy petting.
But the sense of conquest in having made him submit brought Yurakne a deep mental satisfaction.
The two desperately explored each other's lips.
Their tongues coiled together like a pair of mating snakes.
Wet moans traveled between them.
The slick, squelching sounds of their tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths echoed in the quiet room.
"Hah... hah..."
When their mouths finally parted, a string of silvery, sticky saliva bridged the gap. Yurakne lapped it away with a light sweep of her tongue across his lips, erasing the traces without a drop left behind.
"How long has it been since your last kiss?"
"...A f-few years."
At those words, Yurakne cheered inwardly.
That meant, at the very least, he hadn't mixed bodies with anyone else since she'd joined the circus. Even that wealthy Viscountess had apparently only skirted the edges before it fizzled out.
A smirk of victory tugged at the corners of her lips.
She brushed the saliva-glistening, gold-glinting strands of hair from his face and rested her cheek against his chest.
"So, how was it? A kiss after such a long time?"
Perhaps because she'd achieved a goal, her voice had grown noticeably calmer.
This gave Wonderstein a chance to breathe as well. He offered a cheeky grin.
"Hm... I tasted pumpkin. You didn't skip brushing your teeth earlier, did you?"
"Excuse me?"
When her face hardened in mock offense, he flinched in alarm and hurried to placate her.
Yurakne savored watching him flounder, her stern expression slowly melting away.
There. There you are.
This was the real man hiding behind that insufferably smug smile, wasn't it?
She slipped her arms inside his shirt.
Her fingers met firm abdominal muscles.
He accepted the physical contact with far more ease than before. He even showed the composure to stroke her hair.
But that composure didn't last.
The moment her fingertips circled his nipple, he swallowed a groan.
For some reason, a ticklish sensation radiated from a corresponding spot in his lower belly.
Yurakne caught on to his body's reaction instantly.
"Oho, you're sensitive here, too."
She gave his nipple a sharp flick with her finger.
The ticklish prickle surged into an electric jolt that snapped his erection ramrod straight.
"Ah—!"
The moonlight illuminated his expression.
A face beautiful enough to make women jealous contorted, stained with pleasure.
She had made him look like this.
The other troupe members could never imagine it.
That the boss was capable of making such a face.
Nobody gets to see this side of him except me.
I'm the only one who knows this secret.
He's mine.
This man is mine.
She traced slow circles around his nipple with the tip of her finger as she spoke.
"I'm sleeping here tonight."
Her words.
He was not so naive as to miss what they implied.
"That's okay, right?"
Her other hands unfastened the buttons of his shirt.
With his top completely stripped open, she crawled over him to settle on his stomach.
Her violet hair and eyes glinting in the moonlight could rival silk or gemstones.
Breasts round as the full moon, a waist so slender—figures rarely seen even on magazine models.
I want to hold her.
Just as fiercely as she wanted him, he wanted her in return.
He wanted to leave his mark on everything that was hers.
But there was a critical problem.
It was a matter of male pride, not something he could easily confess.
Still, he resolved to open his mouth. If they started, the truth would reveal itself in less than thirty seconds anyway.
"I... don't know how."
She tilted her head at his words.
"What?"
He swallowed hard, avoiding her eyes. His voice shrank to a murmur.
"...I don't know how... to do it..."
She had to mentally replay his sentence a few times to grasp its meaning.
Then, she brought her hands to cover her mouth as if she couldn't believe what she'd heard.
"You can't mean... this is your first time?"
Under her gaze—the look she might give a rare zoo specimen—he felt a different sort of embarrassment than before and nodded.
"...Yes."
He was genuinely ignorant about sex.
In his old world, he'd barely even glimpsed the ubiquitous adult videos that everyone else watched.
It was hard enough to feel anything on his own, and it was even harder to clean up the evidence by himself.
"Unbelievable... Someone like you, boss... you've never been with anyone?"
Now it's the stare you'd give a monkey at the zoo.
His pride prickled for no good reason, and his expression stiffened as he blurted out a clarification.
"Well, there have been... times. But I wasn't exactly the one taking the lead..."
Even as he spoke, a feeling of dishonesty nagged at him.
Could those instances be counted as experience?
At the care facility, the nursing aides provided a service to relieve sexual urges for residents with physical disabilities. Contrary to the lewdness the term 'sexual service' might imply, the reality was a far more awkward and tedious procedure.
They would set up a porno in front of you, and a stone-faced aide would mechanically pump your genitals with gloved hands to squeeze out the accumulated semen. Given that atmosphere, the recipient naturally found it difficult to enjoy. There was no room to feel any real pleasure. Since the release happened every few weeks, the response was so automatic that he'd almost always ejaculate the instant they touched him.
But Yurakne interpreted his words completely differently.
She recalled his history.
Obscured by his confident attitude and overwhelming abilities, she hadn't often thought about it: he was a person with no official status. An unregistered person.
He had grown up on the streets from infancy.
She didn't know the exact details of his journey, but she could imagine certain things.
Looking at him now gave her an idea of what he must have looked like as a child. With those delicate features and complexion, he would have been prettier than most girls.
A stateless child, with no parents, no identity.
A being who could be touched or killed with no repercussions.
She had heard stories about what happened to a pretty young boy traveling with a band of drifters.
What did he have to do to survive?
He would have been forced to do whatever it took.
Whether it was by his own will or someone else's.
A sudden flash of her own actions moments ago struck her.
Climbing on top of him while he tried his best to evade and refuse, pushing herself on him with the half-coercive claim that he was enjoying it too.
He could have thrown someone like her off if he used his real strength, but she had exploited his goodwill to stop him from doing so.
Yurakne felt a rush of shame over what she had just done.
She bowed her head deeply.
"I-I'm sorry. I've touched on a painful subject for you..."
"No. I'm the one who should be sorry. For not being able to live up to your expectations, Miss Yura..."
His smile left her speechless.
Could there possibly be a person this pure and kind?
But his next words stirred a flicker of anger in her as well.
"You must be disappointed. I'd understand if you wanted to go back now."
He said it with a wry smile.
Her eyebrows arched upward.
Just who do you think I am?
Did he think that simply hearing about a past like that would make her look down on him with contempt?
She pursed her lips and moved down below his waist.
The very idea that he'd thought such a thing irked her.
She seized the waistband of his trousers with all four hands.
"You don't have to do a thing, boss."
With that, she pulled down his pants and underwear simultaneously.
His penis, having shed its foreskin to expose the delicate pink flesh beneath, sprang free and bobbed upright.
Yurakne froze at the sight of it.
She swallowed involuntarily.
It was thick and rigid, yet traced an elegant curve. The veins pulsing at the root were striking. It was bigger than the one in her faint memories of her husband.
"Y-Yura, Miss Yura, w-wait a second."
His protests didn't reach her ears.
She pinned down his thighs with four arms and buried her head between his legs.
"I'll take care of everything... aah."
Her mouth stretched open, almost to the point of vulgarity, and she swallowed his cock.