This Body, Even Mid-Massage
"Nnh... hah..."
A peculiar little sound slipped from Seira's lips, shattering the hush. It might have been exhaustion. Or perhaps the heat from earlier still hadn't cooled.
What was certain, though, was that a single breath was all it took for Alper's cock to twitch and surge once more.
...This position. It's too... too dangerous.
She lay facedown, and Alper was seated astride her thighs, perched just above the hollows of her knees. His hands, denied the luxury of lingering where they'd been touching, skipped over her hips and moved in small, tentative strokes around her waist—but his gaze had already traveled past her ass, up the line of her spine, and along the faint side-curve of her breast.
It was nothing but friction, and yet the sensation of her clenching tight around him kept flooding back. The image of grabbing her waist just like this and thrusting into her from behind bloomed, vivid and unbidden. After all, the same body that had rolled its hips against him in the bath—from below, from above—was now right there in his hands.
I am her servant. I promised to help her. I pledged to serve her.
The moment his hands, caught in that fantasy, tightened ever so slightly around her waist, he felt her tremble—right beside the ridge of her spine. That alone was enough to make him imagine the flesh beneath his palms was answering him.
"...Young Master. You must be having a hard time holding back."
This time Seira tossed the remark over her shoulder without even turning her head.
"...?"
"You're so stiff you can barely move... That's not a massage."
Alper's face flushed crimson. He couldn't get a word out. But she, quite deliberately, let a little breath escape and pressed that soft body more firmly into his hands.
It wasn't surrendering her waist to him. It was the weight of temptation, meant to shake him.
As Alper's hands moved clumsily over her waist, Seira folded one knee back. The leg moved like a cat's—smooth, deliberate—lifting slightly, and then—
Tap.
The tip of her foot brushed lightly against the line of his spine.
"...!"
Alper flched at the sudden sensation against his back. A small, soft pressure traveling down the center of it. Seira's bare foot. Without any warning at all, she had planted her foot against him.
"Nnh..."
A low, short groan leaked from Alper's throat. He'd tried to hold it in. He'd shut his mouth, clenched his teeth—but the movement of that toe was too slow, too cunning.
It was already too late.
The Young Master, straddling her thighs, was once again being driven to a bone-deep awareness of just how dangerous—how stimulating—this position truly was. But she remained silent, and he couldn't bring himself to speak. She'd told him not to talk to her, so even that required permission.
Meanwhile her foot slid slowly down his back, scraping along his spine, brushing the hypersensitive strip of nerve just beside his vertebrae before pausing there—a teasing little jolt. The moment he swallowed his breath, Seira, still with her eyes closed, opened her mouth.
"Keep massaging, Young Master. The fatigue hasn't... quite worn off yet, you know?"
Even as the words fell, she pressed her foot a little more firmly, riding it down the length of his spine.
If he just stayed still, nothing would happen. And yet, even now, he couldn't quite let go of that sliver of hope in the way she moved.
Seira remained facedown, burying her face in her arms, her shoulders rising and falling now and then. It looked like weary breathing—but he didn't miss the little thread of laughter mixed into the tail of each breath.
Then the tip of her foot pressed gently, pushing against his back.
Thump.
And because of that, suddenly—the sensation of brushing against that plump ass. It wasn't friction, wasn't even pressure, but the cock that had merely made contact responded with devastating honesty.
...No.
Alper forced the thought down. Yes. He had to tell himself no. But the sensation that had already made contact didn't lie. His cock, pressed against that yielding flesh, pulsed and twitched as if it had a heartbeat of its own.
If he just pushed in like this... No—the instant he realized he was hoping she'd pretend it was an accident and push back against him one more time, Alper nearly bowed his head in shame.
She still said nothing. And yet that single, indifferent toe was dragging his thoughts and his senses down into some very deep place.
The part of Alper's body still clinging to reason—his hands—traveled carefully up along the line of Seira's spine. The massage that had begun at her calves was now working the taut muscles of her waist, passing the small of her back, on the verge of reaching her shoulders—
"Mmh..."
There it was again. A moan, squeezing out from between short breaths. It lingered in his ears, refusing to leave.
Without quite meaning to, he applied a little more pressure. This was a massage for her sake—a legitimate act, an act of service. But the places he was pressing kept overlapping, far too often, with the fantasy from before. The memory of her wet ass rolling its hips, swallowing him down, layered itself on top. The back his hands now rested on was the same spine that had trembled in his grip an hour ago.
"Nnh..."
Seira, savoring a pleasant mix of muscle relief and something far more indecent from below, realized that the hands that had climbed onto her back had gone still, motionless, for a stretch of time. But then, over the faint tremor that reached her, she heard a suppressed breath burst out—low, almost a whisper.
And with it: tap, tap. A uniform rhythm, growing steadily clearer, transmitted through the small of her back. Seira's spine twitched unconsciously.
...No way...?
She carefully turned her head to look behind her, and found the Young Master seated on her thighs. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and below—he was looking at her, touching himself. And doing it with such earnestness. With an expression as if this, right now, were the correct answer.
"......"
It was Seira who swallowed her breath this time.
Alper simply met her eyes, brow furrowed, and smiled. Not lecherous, not shameless—just a warm smile, meant for Seira alone.
"I know this is improper... but—"
Even so, his hand didn't stop. Seira's back, the sleek curve above her ass, and this woman's body rising and falling right before his eyes were simply too captivating.
"I'll take care of it so as not to trouble you."
A single sentence. And then Seira felt the sensation spreading down her spine. The scene of him sitting right above her, looking at her, relieving his desire against her own skin. The fact that that large, heavy thing was moving behind her back, imagining only her. It was perhaps even more obscene, even more thrilling, than being forced into an embrace.
"......Hah."
Cocky little bastard.
He said nothing after that. He simply looked at her and kept moving, steadily. Wet sounds, secret motion, steam rising hot and thick—and Seira felt how slick and soaked she was inside.
She swept her plump tongue once across her lips, then opened her mouth.
"Put it in. Now."
Alper's hands jerked to a halt. He drew in a great gulp of the breath he'd been panting out in short bursts. Heat surged through his entire body, but his lips stayed neatly closed as he turned her words over, then answered with perfect diligence.
"Yes."
Just one word. And in it, a multitude of feelings had soaked through.
And the waiting was over. He hesitated no longer. With his cock fully hard, he spread her thighs, wrapped his hands firmly around Seira's waist, and began to push in deep—every last ounce of desire he'd been holding down.
"Nnh...!"
Seira swallowed her breath. She'd taken him earlier, that was certain—so why did he feel thicker, hotter, now? His cock drove in all at once, as if slamming home, and the mattress sank slightly; her shoulders, facedown on the bed, jerked upward.
"Hah...!"
Sensation racing up her spine. The afterglow of a climax that had settled was climbing back up again. Only then did Seira understand. That the indignation she'd been nursing until a moment ago would collapse entirely under nothing but the hardness of his desire.
His breath, as he lowered his body, drew close against the nape of her neck. The instant Seira gasped at that burning intrusion and her ass lifted, reflexively, Alper's hands clamped down hard on either side of her waist.
"Miss Seira, like this... it might be a little uncomfortable for you."
With a force charged with a man's instinct, he lifted the waist he'd seized, making her ass rise. He was afraid he'd slip out before he could even start moving properly.
"Nnh...?!"
The result was a posture that naturally bent her knees on the bed. Facedown, ass raised high—and with that, her insides were laid even more shamelessly bare.
"Nnh... hah...!"
This thrust went far deeper than before. In physical depth, and in the collision of sensation. Every time he rolled his hips, Seira held her breath, clutching the mattress, even lifting her ass higher.
Alper gazed, enraptured, at her waist—which fit perfectly into both his hands as if made to be held—and the curve that ran from there to her ass, and he smiled in a daze. It was so obscene. So perfect. This was a position in which only he could see her—a position in which he could go mad, all the way to the end of his desire, without her catching him at it.
Alper didn't let go. He gripped Seira's waist tighter still and began to pick up speed.
Plap, plap—
Her cunt, already thoroughly wet, kept making noise even without a bathtub—proof that the woman he'd fallen for was holding so much water inside her.
"—Haaaahhh...!"
Seira, still facedown, buried both hands deep beneath the pillow. Her back heaved between ragged breaths. Beyond that sharply raised pelvis, Alper's cock, still buried deep inside her, twitched with a faint tremor.
His hands were wrapped around her waist, but they were no longer careful. His palms couldn't seem to leave her sweat-slick skin. A body that had come to know a man welcomed him as if wagging its tail.
"Hah... haah... nnh..."
But even that lasted only a time or two. Beneath him, Seira was panting. She had already trembled and come apart several times, and Alper... still hadn't.
"Miss Seira..."
A small whisper. Alper's forehead came to rest quietly against her back. Every time his hot breath touched her, the stimulation spread like a spark.
Seira whipped her head around at the sensation. Half-lidded eyes, and a single word slipping from between densely wet lips.
"Young Master..."
Sweat beaded at the point of her chin and fell. Her breathing broke off, lewd; her voice was already thick with pleasure. But the actual point was—
"Young Master... why... why haven't you come yet?!"
It wasn't a provocation. It wasn't a seduction. It was something she blurted out in a state so wrecked she'd nearly forgotten he was even inside her. Unable to stand being the only one moaning her head off and coming during sex, Seira went bright red and shouted it out.