Her First Handjob
What, exactly, is a handjob?
Some call it manual stimulation. Some call it a hand job, plain and simple.
It is, in essence… the pinnacle of service — an act in which a woman takes a man's member in her hand and strokes it, stroke stroke stroke stroke, her heart brimming with nothing but the wish to make him feel good.
Grip too hard, and it fails. Too soft, and it fails just the same.
Only by gauging, with keen instinct, exactly where his pleasure rises and falls — only by adjusting her own strength and weakness as she caresses him — can a truly satisfying handjob be born.
Mindlessly jerking the hand up and down, up-down-up-down, cannot be called a real handjob — that is the point.
How could an act that amounts to nothing more than mechanically waving a hand ever deserve the name of service?
"…That's the gist of it. Did you understand what I said, U Haru?"
"……"
Useless information she never wanted to know, never wanted to hear in the first place.
But he'd insisted so gravely that she absolutely must listen, that she had humored him — and this was what she got for it.
U Haru looked at him with eyes gone cold and briny.
Rim, meeting her gaze just as steadily, read the meaning hidden within it without difficulty.
You're insane—
That was what her eyes said.
"…You."
"Yes?"
"Are you even aware that you're a kidnapper?"
"Yep."
"Haah…"
U Haru looks down at the young man — a man far younger than herself.
Young… cute… seemingly green and awkward.
Only, the background hidden behind that face, and a silver tongue that could hollow out a person's heart with three inches of it, were anything but ordinary…
"Never in my life did I dream I'd be receiving a handjob lecture from a man like you at my age… You didn't happen to make a PowerPoint, did you?"
"…I could make one for you?"
"……"
Watching him miss the sarcasm entirely and ask so earnestly, U Haru somehow felt like the fool herself, and let out a long, deep sigh.
Of course, it had been her own choice — she was the one who'd agreed to this in exchange for her freedom.
She'd figured she could just shut her eyes tight and get it over with.
And yet…
'The pinnacle of service…? With a heart brimming full of the wish to make me feel good…?'
Watching him spew such embarrassing words with a perfectly straight face, she could well guess just how seriously he intended to take this whole handjob business.
Her gaze drifted — almost unconsciously — toward his crotch, then snapped back in a hurry.
The truth was… handjob or otherwise, U Haru had never once touched a man's thing with her own hands.
She had spent her entire life as the idol hero Lovebell.
Even after retiring, she'd lived feeling half-dead, barely alive — for a woman like that, there was never any time to meet a man.
Wasting hours on something so pointless? Better to squeeze in one more song rehearsal, one more moment connecting with her fans — that was who U Haru was.
So honestly speaking… she was a little scared, too.
Though she would sooner die than admit it, not in front of that man grinning away right in front of her.
"…So… you're saying I shouldn't just… grab it and shake…?"
"Mm, well, you did say you'd do it. Come over here and kneel down, would you?"
"……"
U Haru hesitated for a moment.
She had said she would, sure — but the resistance in her gut hadn't vanished with the words.
Still, she soon steeled herself, moved in front of him, lowered her knee to—
"Ah, not kneeling. Squat down."
…She had been about to kneel, and changed her position instead, squatting down low.
"Now, don't squeeze your legs together — spread them wide open, side to side. I want your crotch on full display."
"…That's—!"
The protest burst out before she could stop it.
But she quickly clamped her mouth shut and, obediently, spread her legs wide — just as he'd told her.
With her legs open in that squatting position, her clitoris — still faintly swollen from a full night of the rotor's torment — pressed softly against her suit.
"Nngh…♥ I-is this… okay? Is this enough…?"
Her face burned scarlet with shame.
She turned her head away to hide it, but the flush had spread all the way down her nape, and there was no hiding that.
He gave a small, amused smile — as if she were simply adorable — and loaded his mouth with praise.
"Good. Well done. Now pull down my pants and underwear."
U Haru swallowed hard and stared at his crotch.
Even through the fabric, she could feel it — see it — its outline, its sheer presence.
For a woman who had never properly experienced a man's thing, this moment was almost unbearable in its tension.
"Hoooh…"
Steadying her breath, she hooked her fingertips into the waistband of his pants.
Then she squeezed her eyes shut.
"…I'm doing this without looking. That's fine, right?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Eyes screwed shut, she yanked pants and underwear down in one motion.
Swish—
Boing—!
"Hyaaah—?!"
Something alive with springy, resilient energy sprang free and slapped her across the face.
It was searing hot, hard as iron, and gave off a thick, musky scent.
Even with her eyes shut, U Haru could feel everything that thing pressed against her cheek was telling her, vivid and undeniable.
Don't open your eyes, don't open them, you mustn't open them…!
……She opened them.
"……!!"
U Haru's mouth fell half open, her clear eyes revealed between the slits of her lids.
That was how enormous the visual shock of this moment was.
Thick and long, veins bulging along its length in rugged ridges — that thing was swinging back and forth, teasingly close, right in front of her face.
The male scent — the musk of a full-grown male — seeping into her nose made her head go fuzzy.
"……Th-this… nngh…!"
"It is pretty big, huh? It surprises even me sometimes."
"Pretty…?"
She measured the size of the thing before her eyes once more.
……It was just big. Plainly, simply big.
Even U Haru, who had never seen a man's member, could tell this was far, far beyond the average male's.
If anything, comparing it to anything else felt almost sacrilegious…
Her gaze swept down the thing instinctively, from tip to root — and only then did she realize what she was doing. Startled, she whipped her eyes away.
"…A-anyway. I just… do this, right? Hoooh…"
She forced the words out with studied indifference, but the stammer creeping into her voice was beyond her control.
"Wrap your hand around it."
"……"
U Haru gave a small nod and slowly reached her hand toward his erect member.
And then… gently, she took hold of it.
"…!"
The same sensation as when it had struck her cheek — exactly the same.
Hard… and warm.
No — closer to hot, almost.
She could feel it plainly, the pulse throbbing against her palm at steady intervals.
And its thickness… barely fit within one hand's grip.
How could something this enormous… have come out of him?
Marveling at the mysteries of the human body, U Haru unconsciously tightened her grip.
She didn't think so herself, but she was simply far too tense.
Squeeze—
"Nngh… ease up a little, please. It's more delicate than it looks."
Seeing the faint furrow between his brows, U Haru flinched and let go reflexively.
Only belatedly did she realize he hadn't asked her to release it — just to control the pressure — and she wrapped her hand around the thing once more.
"Hoo… there you go. Now, keeping that grip, move your hand up and down."
Swish— shlick—
U Haru's slender fingers began to slide up and down the fleshy column.
From the crown all the way down to the base.
Awkward, clumsy handwork.
And yet he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation of it.
"Wow… a handjob from a former idol — an idol's hand wrapping around my cock."
"…!"
U Haru's hand faltered.
Of all things, of all moments — using the word idol while she was doing something this obscene.
She could feel how thoroughly impure his intent was, and she couldn't help but confront it herself:
an idol once beloved by countless fans on stage was now squatting vulgarly, legs spread, beneath a man — stroking his cock with her hand.
The moment that reality crystallized into a sentence and drove itself into her skull, her shame surged up as if it would explode.
U Haru bowed her head low.
Perhaps if she didn't look at it, didn't take it into her eyes, the humiliation would ease just a little—
But…
"Ah-ah, no hanging your head. Come on, lift it up and meet my eyes. Hurry."
"……"
Her heart pounded as if her clumsy little escape had been seen straight through.
All she wanted was to finish this job and be done with it.
But if she didn't obey, he wouldn't be satisfied — and the freedom she craved so desperately would vanish with it.
If she'd grabbed hold of this chance, then she ought to see it through to the end.
So thinking, U Haru lifted her head and met his eyes.
Cheeks flushed a deep, embarrassed red.
Moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes, heavy with shame.
And… the loosely unraveling face of a female in heat.
Rim smiled, clearly satisfied with what he saw.
"…I'm looking at you. Happy now?"
Her voice trembled faintly as she ground the words out through clenched teeth, but the eyes holding his did not waver or flee.
Facing that insufferable face of his dead-on, she set her hand moving again.
Shlick— shlick— shlorp—
Cooper's fluid leaking from the tip had become her lubricant, and the wet, sticky sound of the handjob grew thicker and more obscene.
Clumsy, yes — but she was clearly trying her hardest.
Her control was amateurish, yes — but the care was there.
This was the kind of handjob… this romantic, heartfelt handjob, that he had wanted all along.
Even if it was an awkward one that betrayed her inexperience at a glance — precisely because it made plain the proof that this woman, that U Haru, that Lovebell, was a complete virgin with no experience of men whatsoever.
"Haah……"
Untouched by any other hand, unmarked, his very own pure, virginal female.
'This is it… this… ahh…'
The sight itself — a former idol with a shamelessly plump ass and a motherly, overflowing chest wrapping her fingers around his rock-hard cock and pumping it —
that alone was drowning him in an overwhelming, visual rush of conquest and crackling pleasure.
"I'm… about to come. Speed up, please."
"……"
Up-down-up-down— stroke-stroke-stroke—
Without a word, U Haru quickened her pace.
With a hand soaked through in sticky fluid, she stroked him, and felt his body begin to shudder and jerk beneath her fingers.
"Ah."
Somehow, she understood, too.
This trembling body, this thing twitching restlessly in her palm — this was the sign that—
"Nnngh…!! It's coming…!!"
Throb—!
"Hkk—?!"
Spurt, spurt— spluuurt—!
White, sticky ropes erupted from the tip and splattered across her face.
…
…
"Hoooh… ah, are you okay? I couldn't help myself, I came before I knew it…"
"……"
Without a word, U Haru turned to look at him — and gave a small, small nod.
With an expression impossible to read.
