A Landlord Who Didn’t Want to Hurt Anyone
"Angela?"
"I’m sorry. It tickled, and I made a strange noise before I realized it…."
Hearing such a suggestive sound from someone so demure and dignified only made me want her more.
That was why I had to pull my already stretched-out waist even farther back, careful not to let my hard cock touch her.
With both hands, I diligently scrubbed Angela’s back, and even the slightest pressure made my palms glide over her skin with ease.
Part of that was the body wash lathering my hands, sure, but mostly it was because her skin itself was so soft.
As I washed her back, my eyes stayed fixed on her naked body in the mirror.
It was such an unabashed stare that it might have been offensive, but Angela had her head bowed so low she didn’t seem to notice.
Seriously, what is she, amazing or just plain strange? She never looks my way at all.
It felt a little ridiculous to say it myself, but honestly, a body like mine was the sort that any woman ought to sneak at least one glance at.
And yet Angela kept her eyes fixed on the floor, never once sparing me a look in the mirror.
Her expression made her seem shy, but knowing how considerate she was, maybe she simply thought it would be rude to stare.
"…."
She had been the one to suggest we wash together and have a chat, but now that we’d actually started, she wasn’t saying a word.
I could understand that perfectly well—after all, she was being washed by a young man—so I decided to speak first.
"Honestly, I didn’t expect anyone to be here at this hour. Verita told me the bathhouse would be empty."
"I was supposed to be asleep, but for some reason I couldn’t. I thought a nice, warm soak might help sweat it out, so I came in."
"I see. May I ask why you couldn’t sleep? Do you have something on your mind?"
It might have been a rude question between people who weren’t particularly close, but Angela was so kind I figured it would be fine.
"It’s because of my daughter…. She hates men so much that I don’t know what I’ll do with her."
So Selena really was her biggest worry.
"I wish some man would show up who could take even a girl like that in hand."
Don’t worry. I might not keep her, but I’ll definitely teach her proper manners.
"I see."
By then, Angela’s back was covered in foam.
It was time to move on to the nape of her neck and her shoulders.
I carefully worked the lather over her skin, but every time my hand brushed her, she would shrink her shoulders inward, and I had to keep strangling my own desire again and again.
As I silently admired my own restraint and kept my hands moving, there was only one place left I could clean from behind—her ass.
"I’ll wash your bottom too."
"W-what? W-wait, that’s a little…."
"Ah, I’m sorry. That’s too much, isn’t it? It just reminded me of how my family used to wash each other thoroughly all over the body…."
My lonely little performance was rewarded with an immediate reaction.
"Did you wash your mother like that too, Ian?"
"Yes. I was still young, but we were a pretty close family."
"Oh…."
One more nudge, and I thought she’d bite.
"I’ve made things awkward again, haven’t I? Please pretend you didn’t hear that. I’m not a child anymore, so I should forget all that…."
"N-no, it’s fine. It’s a precious memory to you, isn’t it? I was the one who said you could treat me like family, so please, do as you were doing, Ian."
"Thank you."
Thanking Angela for her angelic kindness, I placed my hands on her large buttocks.
"Mm…."
"Are you all right?"
"Yes…. It’s just that no one ever touches me there, so…. Please don’t mind it."
At that, I didn’t hold back and enjoyed the kind married woman’s ass to my heart’s content.
Its springy firmness was like a giant water balloon; no matter how I pressed or rubbed it, it quickly returned to its original shape.
If I handled it too lewdly, my impure motives might be exposed, so I kept my fingers as straight as I could and worked my way around it as though I were only spreading lather.
"I’ll wash you very carefully."
"P-please do. Ah…."
I slipped a finger into the crease between her cheeks and rubbed gently.
If I grabbed each cheek and spread them apart, it felt like I might see her anus or pussy, but I couldn’t bring myself to go that far.
…Damn, that’s so hot.
Watching her from behind like this made me keep imagining what it would be like to pin her down and take her from behind.
I wanted to clutch those cheeks so tightly my fingers would sink in, and drive into her without mercy.
I kept groping Angela’s milfy ass with those thoughts running through my head until I finally came to my senses and let go.
That was the back done. Should I be a little greedier?
"I’ll wash the front too."
"Ah, the front… yes…."
Angela’s cheeks in the mirror turned even redder.
For the moment, I moved both hands to her stomach.
It wasn’t as trim and taut as a woman in her twenties, but that little bit of softness instead overlapped with her married-woman charm and created its own obscene synergy.
Still, it was a problem if my hard cock touched her.
Pulling my waist back had been enough when I was washing her back, but now, working from the front, it felt like we might brush against each other at any moment.
In the end, I bent backward to my limit and held myself in an awkward, uncomfortable posture.
"Mm…."
As I gently massaged her stomach, Angela fought down a sweet little moan.
I wanted to slide my hands lower right away, but decided it was too soon, so I slowly worked my way upward instead.
"Ian, my breasts…."
"Yes?"
"No, it’s nothing…."
Even just brushing the underside of her breasts was enough to tell how heavy they were.
My hands kept climbing, until they bumped against the arm she had wrapped around herself to hide her nipples.
"Your memories are precious to me, but I’m so grateful to you, Angela, that I want to wash you thoroughly. Would that be all right?"
"…."
After a moment’s hesitation, her hand slowly slipped away.
The nipples she revealed were such a lovely bright pink they almost looked sweet enough to taste.
Were those really the nipples of a woman who’d had children?
I marveled to myself as I slowly swept my palm over her breasts.
I fought the urge to grab them roughly, and instead spread my fingers, moving them up and down so I could tease her nipples between them.
"Ahhn…."
I rubbed my palm up over her breasts, then back down again.
Each time I did, the sensation of her nipples catching between my spread fingers was heavenly.
But Angela was so withdrawn that it bothered me.
She kept her head bowed as if determined never to look at my body, and it was starting to hurt my neck just watching her.
"Angela, you don’t need to worry about me. You can lift your head."
"N-no. If someone like me looks, it’ll make you uncomfortable."
"I’m only saying that because I’m worried your neck will hurt. I really don’t mind."
"No, but still…."
If I pushed any farther, it might sound like I was asking her to look at my body, so I let it go.
Honestly, I wanted her to look, but making that appeal too openly would have been dangerous.
Before I knew it, I could feel the nipple slipping between my fingers growing much harder.
I wanted to keep touching it, but if I only played with her breasts, that might look suspicious, so I moved on to her collarbone and armpits.
Of course, my excuse was that I was carefully and earnestly washing every corner out of gratitude.
"Mm… ah…."
Listening to those muffled moans while I kept groping her made me want her so badly it was almost driving me crazy.
If I couldn’t put it in, then at least I wanted to touch there.
Honestly, wouldn’t Angela be fine with it? She’d even let me go as far as her breasts.
With that thought, my greed stirred, and just as my hand was about to travel from her breasts, down her stomach, and lower still—
"Hiiik!"
With a shrill cry, Angela shot to her feet.
"S-sorry, Ian…. I think this is enough…."
Then she moved to the side, quickly rinsed the foam off her body, and bowed her head to me.
"I-I’m going to go now, so please take your time getting ready."
With that farewell, she fled without looking back, and the bathhouse was left with nothing but me and silence.
Maybe trying to touch her lower body had been going too far.
Just washing together had already been a pretty big step, and I might have gotten too greedy.
Still, judging by Angela’s attitude before she left, she hadn’t seemed angry, just embarrassed, so I probably didn’t need to worry too much.
It had still been rude, though, so I’d have to apologize to her tomorrow.
With that thought in mind, I turned on the shower.
---
"Hah, hah…."
Angela had barely made it into the changing room before she leaned against the wall and panted for breath.
She didn’t know when Ian would come out of the bathhouse, so she needed to clean herself up quickly and get out of there.
Even knowing that, her heart was pounding and her legs were trembling so badly she couldn’t move.
What if Ian got hurt…?
Even now, she was worried about him.
Was it because he was the same age as her daughter?
Or because he seemed like someone with so much pain, so many hidden scars?
Angela wanted to soothe his loneliness and heal his wounded heart.
That was why she had swallowed her embarrassment and suggested they wash each other so he could remember his family’s warmth.
Even when his hands touched her buttocks or her breasts, she hadn’t pulled away because she didn’t want to hurt him.
If I reject him or startle him, he might think I’m disgusted by him….
And yet, in the end, she had hurt him terribly anyway.
When Ian’s touch grew deeper and deeper, she screamed and shook him off.
In truth, even being naked in the same space as him had made her want to flee in embarrassment.
The same had been true when they sat together in front of the mirror, and when his hand touched her back.
Still, she endured it.
Even when his hands touched such sensitive places as her buttocks and breasts, she bore it, thinking only that she wanted to help him remember family.
But when his hand drew near her most intimate place—of all things—her body reacted before her mind could.
That was one place she could never let anyone touch.
I wasn’t disgusted by Ian’s hands….
To be honest, it was hard to understand his claim that his son had washed his mother’s body.
Even so, Angela didn’t question it.
There were all kinds of people in the world, and they all expressed affection in different ways.
Besides, in her view, Ian was absolutely not the kind of man who would lie.
He’s a good person who didn’t even blame Selena after nearly dying unjustly, and he never resented me either, not even a little….
That was why his touch had felt less unpleasant than pitiable, almost warm.
He was just terribly lonely….
But that didn’t mean she could hand him her most secret place.
He must be hurt….
She had asked him to treat her like family, and then gone and done something worse than a stranger would have.
I should have politely refused instead of pushing him away….
Or maybe, even after pushing him off, she should have explained herself properly.
That it hadn’t been his hands she found unpleasant, only that she’d been embarrassed. That she’d simply been shocked by such unexpected intimacy.
She had known that much in her head even then.
But the instant she caught sight of Ian’s imposing manhood, her thoughts had completely ground to a halt.
And so, in her panic, she’d fled without a word.
I shouldn’t have done that… but still….
His naked body had been far too overwhelming for her to think straight.
Especially that groin of his—its size was almost impossible to believe, a fierce declaration of masculinity.
"Oh, my."
Coming to her senses, Angela scolded herself for thinking about this at a time like this.
What if she ran into Ian after he finished bathing?
Of course she would have to steel herself and apologize, but right now she didn’t have the confidence to do it.
I’ll apologize tomorrow… I will.
With that resolve, Angela hastily dressed herself and returned to her room.
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