Breasts, Armpits, Lower Belly... And Between the Legs?
I climbed on top of Yurim, who lay sprawled on her back, and pressed our bodies flush together.
More embracing her than anything, I leaned my weight into her and nestled my cock into the deep valley of her ass.
Yurim lay stiff and quiet, holding her breath — but her body told a completely different story.
"Mmnh⋯."
Her peach-shaped rear swelled up plump and soft, cushioning my whole body, and the moment my cock pressed against it, that deep crease swallowed me right in with a soft, yielding sink.
It was as if her rounded mounds were giving me an intercrural grind all on their own.
"Haaah⋯ hnn-gh⋯ haa⋯."
Every time Yurim let out a long, deep sigh, heat came surging up from between her legs, and blood rushed into my cock so hard I thought it might burst.
That sweet-and-sour scent of a female — sharp as spilled syrup stinging the inside of my nose — had me lying flat against her, breathing in deep.
Then Yurim wriggled beneath me and spoke.
"Ah⋯ this is a little uncomfortable⋯."
"Should I get up?"
"No⋯? You said you were tired⋯ just stay put⋯."
Shifting her body, Yurim slyly ground her ass against my crotch.
Face buried in the pillow, she rocked her hips back and forth — the way a girl might beg for a cock from beneath a man, except here she was doing it herself, shaking her own waist with abandon.
With her plump, flesh-heavy mounds squeezing my cock and brushing it back and forth, I had to swallow hard against the surge rising from below.
"If you're tired, you can stay a while longer⋯ hnnngh⋯."
Making excuses on my behalf while still lying there, swaying her hips this way and that.
At this point I figured she'd lose patience and pounce on me, but no — she held out, playing with herself all alone, and honestly, it pissed me off.
So before Yurim could notice, I quietly stretched out my arm and slipped my hand under her, into where that huge mass of flesh was pressed against the floor.
"Hnn-gh⋯!"
Yurim's breast.
(Yurim)
The breast squashed against the floor pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.
My head was spinning too badly to make sense of anything I was saying, so I just lay there frozen on my stomach.
Dajun must have worn himself out too, because he flopped down on top of me, chest heaving, doing nothing but drawing in breath after shaky breath.
It's so big and heavy⋯. This is my first time. So this is a cock⋯.
That heavy weight settling into the cleft of my ass made my hole flutter open before I could stop it.
Something thick and swollen felt jammed up against my inner thighs, so achingly full that I squeezed my legs together, subtle as I could manage.
But Dajun was too busy catching his breath to notice what I was doing.
"Ah⋯ this is a little uncomfortable⋯."
"Should I get up?"
"No⋯? You said you were tired⋯ just stay put⋯."
I buried my face in the pillow and spoke like it was nothing, playing the considerate one.
He doesn't even realize what position we're in right now. He's so naive it hurts.
Feeling the weight of a boy smaller than me, I rocked my hips little by little.
Lifting my rear just slightly, I got a preview of what the cock I'd loved my whole life actually looked like.
The more I rubbed my crotch against that bulge straining through his pants, the more I dripped, until my plump mound was soaked clean through.
I deliberately played it cool so Dajun wouldn't get the wrong idea.
"If you're tired, you can stay a while longer⋯ hnnngh⋯."
A moan tried to climb up from somewhere deep inside me, and I bit it back hard.
Every cell in me wanted to flip over right now and climb on top of Yang Dajun — but the single thought that I had to protect him until I confessed kept me biting down on the edge of the pillow.
Then.
"Hh, hnngh⋯!"
Before I could even react, Yang Dajun slipped his hand beneath my chest.
Even startled as I was, my lower belly gave such a sharp twinge that I couldn't bring myself to get up — all I could do was squirm in place.
"Hey, Yang Dajun⋯ take your hand off, quick⋯."
"Why? Can't I touch?"
"O-of course not! What kind of boy just—"
"Even though you've got clothes on?"
"Haaah, honestly, you⋯."
Even as I let out a big sigh at his innocence, I never actually tried to stop him.
Instead I buried my face in the pillow again and quietly let his hand have its way.
Once I went still, Dajun tried to grab my breast with that small grip of his.
"Yurim, how is it? Feel good?"
"I-I can't really tell⋯? I don't feel anything yet⋯."
At my provocation, Dajun's hand stopped.
"Oh?"
"Mmhm⋯. Try doing it better⋯."
Wanting him to keep touching me, I fussed on purpose.
He was so hopeless about women he wouldn't have a clue what touch me more meant anyway.
Suddenly a corner of my heart stung, and I bit my lip hard.
Yang Dajun, this is your fault. Wearing all those loose, baggy clothes in front of me. Asking other guys if it's uncomfortable being as big as you down there⋯.
Either way, wanting him to play with my chest was not my fault.
Oblivious to what I was really feeling, Dajun tried to keep kneading my breast like I'd told him to.
"Nnghh⋯."
"What?"
"Yurim, your boobs are way too big⋯."
He couldn't quite reach, it seemed, because he kept groaning while wiggling his palm around.
Drowning in his own innocence, he strained to wrap a single hand around my breast — but against a rack that size, that little grip of his didn't stand a chance.
Still, warmth traveled through his palm and into my skin, and it felt so good that I started pressing my chest harder into his hand—
"Hnngh⋯!"
A moan escaped me before I knew it.
Because the moment Dajun kneaded my breast, he'd also thrust his hips forward.
"Hh-k! Yang Dajun⋯ what are you doing—!"
"Sorry. I had to tense up to knead your chest, so⋯."
Without understanding what he was even doing, he kept smacking his hips against my ass — slap, slap —
And every time that huge cock drummed against the dimple my cheeks had sunk into, an electric jolt shot up my spine and scrambled my brains completely.
"Ah, come on⋯ haahk⋯ nn, hehnk⋯."
Hugging the pillow tight, I panted out moan after moan, and started rocking my hips up and down to match the rhythm of his spanking against my rear.
Wow, she's got serious self-control.
I couldn't help marveling inwardly as I watched Yurim, even now, doing nothing but swaying her hips back and forth.
"Haaah⋯ Yang Dajun⋯. You're really terrible at this⋯ heh-heht⋯."
She laughed like she was oh-so-composed, but her ears had gone bright red.
And even so, she kept biting back, refusing to cross the line — it was almost admirable.
Deciding this couldn't go on, I made up my mind to change positions one last time.
If we're lying face to face, even Yurim won't be able to hold out.
Yurim had been in love with me and only me for over a decade.
So if I climbed on top and put our faces close, she wouldn't be able to contain the trembling either.
"Hnnh⋯ haa⋯."
Yurim hugged the pillow tight and rocked her body, slowly steadying her breathing.
Watching her, I poked her in the side — poke, poke — and called out.
"Yurim, I'm uncomfortable."
"Now what⋯."
"Kneading you from behind is awkward. Roll over and lie on your back."
Before she could answer, I grabbed her arm and tried to flip her over.
"Ah⋯ oh, alright⋯?"
Even as she wobbled at my touch, Yurim turned over onto her front-side-up.
There was a soft whump as she landed against the blanket that had been bunched beneath her.
The moment Yurim's back hit the floor, those massive breasts that had been pressed together surged apart, rippling in every direction like waves.
Man, I'd love to get squeezed between those while they bounce.
My throat bobbed as I stared at those enormous tits too big for even two hands, let alone one.
Then I looked at Yurim's face — drool smeared at the corner of her mouth, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
Imagining how red her own face must be, I swallowed a laugh.
Heh⋯.
Still, to keep things moving, I kept my composure on the outside while playing innocent to the hilt.
Yurim, knowing none of this, was looking at Yang Dajun's expression and feeling guilty.
Oh, Yang Dajun. He's embarrassed on my account. I should be acting casual, and here I keep getting all flustered.
Yang Dajun was kneading her chest with the purest of intentions, while she was the one lost in dirty fantasies all by herself.
Ashamed of that, Yurim resolved to act like nothing fazed her, no matter what Yang Dajun did.
When I stayed quiet for a moment, Yang Dajun reached out his arm again and laid his hand gently over my breast.
Truly, it was a small hand.
Yurim closed her eyes, then slowly opened them and spoke.
"Hey, Yang Dajun⋯ do you do this with other girls too?"
"Do what?"
"Well, you know⋯ when you give them massages⋯ do you also knead their boobs and stuff?"
Fighting the heat threatening to make her face burst into flames, she forced the words out.
It was embarrassing to even say — but if she showed she was conscious of it, Yang Dajun would find it weird.
But the answer that came next made Yurim's heart twinge with a sharp, electric ache.
"No? I'm doing this because it's you."
At those words, Yurim's thighs squeezed together, just slightly.
Watching Yang Dajun tilt his head as if to say, isn't that obvious?, the corners of her mouth kept trying to curl up on their own.
Their faces were right in front of each other, and he was lying on top of her body — and Yurim nearly threw her arms around him and squeezed before she could stop herself.
Yang Dajun went on in that same innocent voice.
"Keep kneading?"
"F-fine, go ahead⋯."
The moment her lips finished moving, Yang Dajun kneaded her breasts again.
He spread his legs and climbed up near her lower belly, their bodies meeting face to face in an inverted-J position.
"Ah, this is still kind of uncomfortable⋯."
I shook my head at Yurim, whose eyes were trembling at the edges.
Then, ever so casually, I lowered myself until our bodies were pressed flush together.
Until a second ago I'd been straddling her sitting up — now I'd ended up in a full body-to-body lie, stacked in a straight line against her.
With just one layer of clothing between us, my cock came to rest right against Yurim's crotch.
"⋯"
Yurim said nothing.
Instead, the more I kneaded her chest, the more she panted, letting out only the breath rising from deep inside her.
The skin her bra couldn't cover grew damp with sweat.
I pushed the bra aside and slipped my hand inside.
"Yurim, why's it so hard right here?"
"Ah, hn⋯ you can't touch there⋯ nngh⋯."
My fingers found something small and pebbled, and I pinched it.
Feigning ignorance, I kept right on touching it.
Yurim raised her arm, clapped her own hand over her mouth, and shook her head back and forth.
"No, Yang Dajun⋯ take your hand off, quick⋯."
"Why? It's all stiff and knotted. I'll work it out for you, so hold still."
"Hehnk⋯ don't pinch it⋯ hhk, heh-hnngk⋯."
With her nipple caught between my fingers, all Yurim could do was lie beneath me and twitch, jump after jump.
And every time she did, she ended up grinding her own crotch against my hard cock.
Her underwear was soaked clean through now, the plump, generously fleshed shape of her mound printed plainly through the fabric.
She really can hold out.
From the outside it looked for all the world like she was being serviced by a man, and yet she still wouldn't pounce — that took patience most people didn't have.
Yurim had more than enough strength to pin me down herself, but all she did was drool all over the place and occasionally buck her hips.
Wishing she'd just take me already, I pushed her even harder.
"Hah-yunk⋯! S-stop pinching it⋯."
"Well, it keeps getting harder, doesn't it."
Ignoring the way her hand flailed, I pinched her nipple even harder.
I twisted it sideways, let go, then scraped the very tip with my fingernail.
When I rolled it around on my palm as well, Yurim lifted her head off the pillow and started gasping for air.
"Yurim, does it feel good when I knead you here?"
"G-good, it feels⋯ it's all tingly⋯ heh-hehk⋯."
That swollen nipple showed no sign of ever softening.
She threw an arm over her forehead, drool trailing down her chin — and from below, that sweet scent came wafting up in a warm rush.
One breath of it made my head ring and throb with a sharp, stinging buzz.
I drew in a deep breath of it, and then my eyes drifted to Yurim's arm.
"⋯"
She still had her arm thrown over her forehead, avoiding my gaze — but there was no hiding the musky scent rising from her.
Yurim's armpit.
"Yurim."
"⋯What."
"Lift your arm for me."
At my words, Yurim lowered the arm she'd been shielding her face with.
Holding my gaze, she slowly stretched it up above her head.
The part of her white blouse meant to cover her armpit was soaked through and clinging.
I nearly lunged at her.
No. Not yet. I'm the one who's supposed to be devoured here⋯.
Determined to push Yurim past her limit, I laid my hand on her armpit.
The sopping wet hollow and the raw female scent pouring off it had us both breathing rough, chests heaving.
"W-why are you touching my armpit?"
"Giving you a massage. They say working this area⋯ helps your circulation and is good for you."
Meaning: so worked up that she'd pounce on me.
Like I'd done for my sister, I pressed and kneaded the lymph nodes around her armpit, firm and slow.
Then I dipped my head and brought my face right up to Yurim's.
Close enough to see the tiny beauty mark on the tip of her nose.
"Haa⋯ haa⋯."
Her brown eyes wavered, her lashes trembling at the edges.
Face to face, we breathed our hot breath onto each other.
While I traced upward from her armpit, pressing into her collarbone, knead by knead.
Yurim frowned now and then, and when my hand reached her jawline, her lips gave a shivery flutter.
But I moved back down instead.
"Ah⋯."
Yurim let out a sigh of disappointment — but I had no intention of kissing her first.
Not until she devours me. Not one kiss before that.
Instead, I kneaded her breast.
I planned to keep her aching and desperate until she couldn't take it anymore and wrapped her arms and legs around me.
Yurim fidgeted restlessly, then reached her Nowhere-to-go hand up and rested it on top of my head.
Gripping me with both hands, she rocked her hips up in little increments —
Her body gave a small bounce as she strained, any way she could, to rub her soaked mound against my cock.
Just a little more and she'll crack.
Watching Yurim pant, I began working her over from head to toe.
From her chest to the nape of her neck, from her neck to her armpit. Armpit to breast, breast to flank.
And then⋯ from her flank down to her lower belly.
Yurim's back arched clean off the floor.
"Hehnk⋯ hhk⋯!"
"Yurim, does it hurt?"
"U-uhh⋯ yeah, it hurts⋯ haa⋯."
That was no moan of pain.
But Yurim nodded desperately, trying to talk her way out of it.
I buried my face in the nape of her neck and whispered to her.
"Then I'll make it stop hurting."
"Huh⋯? Uhhh⋯?"
Before Yurim could sit up, I caught the hem of her top.
Then I flipped it up in one motion, baring her lower stomach.
A girl's belly — just the slightest bit soft and round.
I slid down, bowed my head, and let out my breath.
"Hooo⋯ hooooo⋯."
Yurim's mouth fell wide open, both eyes going round as saucers.
Heehk⋯?
"H-heh-hnngk."
The electric sensation crashed over her in wild waves, and Yurim's whole body shuddered as if she'd been struck by lightning.
The more Yang Dajun touched her, the harder her lower belly rang with those sharp, buzzing pulses — and the wetter her mound became, drip by drip.
Without even realizing it, Yurim spread her legs and tried to wind them around Yang Dajun's body.