What Is This? (2)
Just in case.
The thought did cross my mind—really, just in case—that it might be that kind of fluid. I shook my head almost at once.
Nothing had even gone inside. There was no way arousal would leak out like that. Wasn't that stuff supposed to come out in the first place to act as lubricant during sex? ...Was I even right about that?
Anyway.
So this, in all likelihood, was sweat. My cleavage was damp right this second, so even if my panties had ended up like that, it wasn't particularly strange.
I felt so gross I could die. Before anything else, I needed to see what state I was in.
My tawny hair had gone all mussed at some point, and my pajamas hung open every which way. I collapsed back onto the bed, rolled onto my side, and groaned my way out of the pajama pants—though my strength refused to cooperate, so I kicked and flailed like I was treading water.
I'd tied the drawstring loose on purpose. So why did they keep catching on my butt.... Damn it....
I squirmed and wriggled, working hands and feet alike, until at last the pajama pants fluttered off my toes. Whew. After that battle I tossed them to one side of the bed, hooked my fingers in my panties, and drew them straight down.
"......"
Cool.
If it had ended there, I would have been glad.
Wet.
Even this much was fine. I'd been stewing in sweat, and then cool air had hit me. That would explain it.
Sticky.
This was where it started to get strange. Sweat was sticky too, if you wanted to split hairs, but not like this.
And the strangest part of all was this. If it really had been sweat... it wouldn't have stretched in a slick, clinging strand, still connected to the panties.
"......Ahem. Ahem."
A thought popped up and I cleared my throat, then cleared it again to scrub the thought away.
No way. That was ridiculous. If one dirty comic was enough to do this to me, then shouldn't something like it have happened at least once while I was skimming the stuff Yojora recommended? I nodded along with that perfectly logical argument.
Still, if I insisted on finding a difference from back then, there was exactly one. The character, an ordinary person until now, had animal ears and a tail. That was it.
...Oh, right. It was a Korean comic, not a Japanese one. That was a difference too. Probably meaningless.
But there was no way just that changing would do this to me. It didn't make any sense.
Whatever. I'll just give my lower half a quick wash and go to sleep. I'd sweated too much to get by on a fresh pair of panties alone. See? If I just slip my hand between my thighs and swipe upward, the sweat....
"......"
...It wasn't soft and dry. It was, um....
Wait.
"...Why is this...."
The hand that had been feeling between my thighs slid downward as it was.
This is wrong. It shouldn't be like this. If the panties got sticky from sweat, then the space between my thighs should have been soaked in sweat too. So why was it so soft and dry?
Which meant the source of that sticky fluid was....
"......"
A brief silence.
I let some time pass like that, and then my fingertips moved, carefully.
Down.
Down.
Over the panties shoved to the edge of my thighs, lightly, as if checking how wet they were. Then, with the fluid coating my fingertips, I drew my fingers back up to where the panties had been pressed a moment ago.
Up.
Up.
...I wasn't numb. I'd noticed ages ago that it was absurdly wet down there, but I'd been looking away from that place, stubbornly refusing to admit it. Until my fingers reached it. Until my hand met the wet, soft flesh, and a shiver I couldn't name made my knees twitch and draw in.
The memories after that are a little hazy.
The vulva. The female sex. In vulgar terms.... ...A pussy.
I never thought about it normally, but back when I was a little younger than I am now, I used to wonder sometimes why it was shaped like that. Of course, I still don't really know the reason.
But there was one thing I'd newly learned.
"Nnh...? Ah...? Eh..."
...If you press down on it, firm and steady, it feels good.
I hadn't put a man's thing inside me the way the women in stories did when they felt good. I'd only touched it myself, carefully, and still.
"Haaa.... Nnh......"
But that good... it was a strange kind of good, one you couldn't quite sum up as simply feeling good. Would it be better to say it only seemed good? Or that it was somewhere in the neighborhood of good?
Every time I stroked it gently, my lower belly throbbed. The focus went out of my eyes, and everything grew hazier and hazier. My thighs kept twitching and jerking, and pleasure ran up my spine until I squirmed like I'd turned into a worm, rubbing my cheek into the pillow.
It was a little hard to understand how all of that added up to feeling good... and yet, as if to say who cares, the slick coating my fingers only kept increasing.
"...... ...? ......♡"
Lightly. Lightly, the way you'd tickle someone. I rubbed my fingers slowly against my sex like that, and the moment I drew them away I felt the slick stretching from my fingertips. Then, rubbing and rubbing, I stroked the flesh around it with the tips of my fingers.
...Touching it directly was, um... still a little scary. You know how it is. Some instinct that said I shouldn't touch there yet. So only the area around it. Yeah.
"Nngh...... Hn...?"
I pressed down hard on the edge of the blanket caught between my feet and let a pleased moan slip out, small. I wanted to let it out a little louder... but as small as I could manage. Sneaking glances sidelong to check whether the door was properly shut, I rubbed and pressed at the flesh soaked through with slick, and every time my heart pounded I clamped my free hand tight over my mouth.
...You never know. I might end up yowling like a bitch in heat, the way the women in the comics did, or the woman I'd just seen in that porn. And then the housekeeper, snoring away in her sleep right now, might happen to hear.... How would I ever look her in the face starting tomorrow....
...W-wait....
"......! ...?!"
Pleasure crackled out from the small of my back all at once, and I barely had a moment to wonder at it before I was forcing down a moan that felt like it was crushing my lungs on its way out. Because of that, a tiny sound leaked between my lips—nnh, ngh—like I was holding back a sob.
What? What is this?
Startled by a tingling sharp enough to ache, I yanked at the blanket caught between my feet hard enough to tear it. It wasn't my will. My body kept twitching on its own, and I couldn't pull my foot free of the blanket in the middle of that, so I had no choice. In the end, even tears I couldn't explain welled at the corners of my eyes, and I breathed hot air into the palm sealing my mouth, over and over.
Was it because I'd just brushed my teeth? The scent of mint toothpaste drifted over my palm. If I kissed someone like this, it would be a toothpaste-flavored kiss. A tear with no feeling in it slid down, and my cheek and the pillow grew a little damp.
Maybe that was why my head had gone blank. Foolish thoughts drifted through, and as my hazy mind came back a little, I drew away the fingers that had been busy near my clitoris all this time and held them up in front of my eyes.
"......Hah.... ...Hah...."
...Seeing how much slick was trailing down my fingers, I could more or less guess why my throat was this dry.
I must be out of my mind.... Seriously....
"Hiyuu......"
...But. Um. Was this okay? It felt like I might be doing something I shouldn't....
...S-sex, I know what that is. Of course I do now. But touching here with my fingers was, um....
......
...I'd learned it was called foreplay. And that was something someone else did for you, wasn't it? Not just lightly touching the area around it and stopping, either—pinching and rubbing the clitoris, or shoving fingers into the little hole and working them against the walls inside....
"......"
...Something someone else does. Um....
......
Mm....
...Hehe....
"...Ah, wait... before that..."
Investigating my curiosity like this was all well and good, but there was one thing I had to do first. I pushed myself up, unsteady, and limped toward one side of the bedroom on legs that had no strength in them—locking the bedroom door on the way, just in case, and checking it twice.
What waited there was a drawer. Odds and ends for everyday life, and a drawer with towels in it. I pulled out the gray towel, the one I liked least.
I-in the comics, everyone leaks an absurd amount of slick.... I'd need this if I didn't want it getting on the bed, right? I shook my head hard, flinging the embarrassing imaginings away.
What remained was curiosity research. Having wrapped the shameful act in the most difficult words I could manage, I went back to the bed. I could slip the wet towel in with the laundry after my shower tomorrow....
The smell of sweat, and over it a strange scent I was smelling for the first time. I spread the dry towel over the bed thick with both, and carefully lay face down. My chest being pressed flat made it stuffy, but this would be much easier for holding my voice in.
"Mmph...."
I buried my face in the pillow that smelled of my shampoo and slid a hand beneath my hips. The thirst I would normally have gone straight to the kitchen to fix, I put off for just a little while. Holding my breath so the housekeeper sleeping in the room across the hall wouldn't know—I wanted to touch my c-clitoris.
...In other words, curiosity research.
"...Nnghk......"
The nail I'd trimmed short for swordsmanship brushed the slit I'd been stroking until just now. That alone, and my p-pussy was already leaking the same slick from before, sticky and thick. ...It couldn't have gotten like this the instant a single finger touched it, so it must have already been pooled inside. I wasn't sure how much of it there was....
Tap, tap. I flicked the slit lightly with a fingertip and flinched, but only for a moment.
"...... ..."
I got properly up on my knees and down on my front, the way I'd once seen in a comic Yojora recommended, and used the fingers that had been touching the slit to spread the soft flesh into a V.
...If I touched my clit and slick sprayed everywhere past the towel, it would be a headache. There was no other reason.
"Hnn.... Hnngh......"
Face buried deep in the pillow, I slowly moved the fingers set on either side of my sex. My thighs, feeling pleasure from that alone, kept brushing the backs of my hands. Schlick, schlick—a slow but distinct sound reached my ears.
And against the fingers holding me open, slick welled out of me with a wet gulp and ran down.
I had no experience, so I couldn't tell from the amount on my fingers alone how much it really was, but it wasn't enough to worry me. Just about... enough to coat a male's cock and still have a little left over. I really hated it, but that was probably the most accurate way to put it.
".... ...... ...Mmph..."
Then, now.... The thing that had been bothering me was dealt with.
I wiped the slick smeared thick over my fingers off onto the towel, then brought my hand back between my thighs. Not particularly grown-up. Childlike, if you had to say. Only a faint dusting of soft, pale down on my p-pussy.... From there I lowered my fingers, little by little, and touched my clit for the first time.
"Nngh......? Ah...? ...Eh......"
But it wasn't as overwhelming as I'd thought. Strange. In the comics, the moment a man rubbed here a few times, he soaked the bed. There was something that made me shiver, but it wasn't that much. Had the comics exaggerated? Or had I been touching it wrong?
The method first. Blaming the comics could wait. Let me change the method a little. As close as I could get to what I'd seen in the comics.
"......"
Maybe it was thanks to the old saying that starting is half the battle. Having tried something lewd for the first time, I was looser than I'd been a moment ago, and instead of touching my clitoris as if I might barely reach it, I rubbed from the inside—
this clit,
I
touched.
"......?♡ ......?? .........♡"
Fwip, fwip. The sound of slick, far too clear, softly filled the bedroom. A tiny sound, one you wouldn't hear unless you listened closely. Now and then the bed creaked as my hips jerked. That was the same—not all that small, but not a sound I particularly minded. Spit clung thick to the pillow I was biting down on, and the harsh pant of my breath sank into it and hummed there, quiet. A tiny sound. Much tinier than the sound of slick spattering the towel.
"...... ...Mmph......"
Which meant that no matter what happened, it was a sound the housekeeper would never hear.
"......"
With a wet peel, I lifted my mouth from the pillow for a moment, pulled the towel spread under my body up a little farther, and draped it over the pillow where my teeth marks stood out clear.
...The towel was quite long. That was a real relief.