The Hungry Housewife
I've vaguely wondered before what a woman's house might be like. Strictly speaking, it's not a place where just a woman lives, but a home for a married couple... Still, with a young housewife living there, the interior design is naturally going to be worlds apart from something ordinary like my parents' house.
"Wow, you've really done an amazing job making it so neat and tidy."
It's clearly the same kind of apartment I live in... so what was the difference? The place was impeccably organized, with a modern interior that perfectly suited the couple. Compared to my rundown dump, the gap wasn't just a little—it was on another level entirely. Not that it was spacious enough to warrant a full remodel, though.
"Yeah? We redid the whole thing right when we moved in, so it looks pretty clean, right?"
"Originally, we were just gonna live simply and move out later, but I pushed for the remodel."
She had a stubborn streak, it seemed.
"Even if it's temporary, clean is better, don't you think?"
I nodded lightly and glanced around the house. Her touch was everywhere—flower arrangements in vases, little potted plants by the windows.
"So, what should I treat you to? Black tea, housewife? Do you like it?"
"Hmm, I've never really tried it, so I wouldn't know."
"Then how about some juice?"
Black tea? Do women in spotless houses like this always keep stuff like that around? As far as tea or coffee went for me, all I knew from childhood was the occasional barley or buckwheat tea my mom boiled up. Nothing else.
"Orange juice or grape? Which do you prefer?"
"Grape a bit more."
But come to think of it, this lady had switched to casual speech with me at some point. It felt so natural I hadn't even noticed.
A tall, transparent glass brimmed with vibrant purple grape juice. It looked incredibly satisfying just visually.
"These glasses... aren't they expensive?"
I remembered my mom grumbling about the cost whenever she bought even one.
"Eh, how pricey can a single glass be?"
She shrugged and prepared her own setup—a small teapot and cup adorned with a pink rose pattern.
"Oh, black tea for you?"
"Yeah, I love all kinds of tea."
"Isn't that kinda like old-people taste? Honestly, I have no idea what's good."
Saying that to someone who enjoyed it might come off rude, but I'd always been curious. Sure, it was everyday curiosity before, but right now I was way more interested in her body.
"It's got a nice aroma and great flavor. Once you're hooked, it's hard to pull away."
I nodded along to her ecstatic expression. Well, everyone had their hobbies. Just like I jerked off to porn every day, she was just really into her tea.
"Sounds like a super classy hobby."
"Not really."
As she answered, she propped her chin on her hand and gazed my way, subtly gathering her breasts together. Looked like the earlier mood was picking right back up.
"Hmm, nice aroma."
She sat there without a thought of pulling up her nightgown, which had slipped down far enough that her nipples were almost visible.
"This grape juice is delicious."
"Good, glad you like it."
A slightly awkward silence settled in. She fiddled with her cardigan, clearly unsure how to proceed next. The moment I stood from my seat—
"I'm home."
Ring— The door slid open, and her husband made his entrance.
"O-oh, h-honey. Y-you're home early."
Her face twisted in extreme fluster. Her husband shot her a puzzled look. And there I was, stuck right in the middle.
Ah, this situation sucks.
Time Manipulation
The man and woman froze right before my eyes. A guy in a suit with a tired face. So this was the husband.
Hmm, this could work as is, but let's designate a target like I wanted.
Sexless marriage or something? There were photos of them together all over the place, so their relationship didn't seem bad.
Target Designation: Housewife
"Ah, it's nothing! This isn't what you're thinking...!"
She'd been desperately trying to string words together, but they cut off abruptly. She'd sensed something unnatural.
"Ah, what... what is this...?"
Her husband stood frozen right in front of her with that weary, puzzled expression. She tilted her head at him.
"Am I dreaming or something...?"
"Not a dream—I just stopped time for a bit."
I flashed a grin, and she whipped around in shock.
"Stopping time? Don't mess around."
"Well, if you can't believe it, just chalk it up to a dream. Fine by me."
I could always wipe the memory later anyway. Toying around with a housewife sounded fun, and I'd only come because she'd been blatantly seductive—no interest in getting dragged into anything messy.