Midnight Affairs: Tokyo Secret Wives Club

The cat blinked once, completely unfazed by the tension in the room, then calmly turned around and padded out the door it had somehow managed to nudge open.

Silence followed.

Fuyuma was still on her knees, lips parted, hand resting at Riku's thigh. She glanced up at him, equal parts amused and exasperated.

"Did we just get cockblocked by a fucking cat?" she whispered, stifling a laugh.

Riku's shoulders shook as he chuckled low in his throat. "Well, I guess we're not the only ones prowling around here."

She rolled her eyes, then leaned incraving, no hesitation, no shame. "As I was saying…"

Her lips returned to him with even more hunger than before, as if the interruption had only deepened her craving.

She steadied herself with both hands on his thighs, breath coming in soft pants as she stared up at him, lips wet and parted. Then she opened her mouth once more, determined.

Inch by inch, she sank down again, eyes fluttering as the thickness stretched her limits. A strained whimper escaped her throat, but she didn't stop.

Riku's hand moved to her head, threading through her hair.

"Let me help you," he said in a low voice.

Before she could react, he pressed just a little, guiding her down.

Her eyes widened as he filled her deeper than before, a soft, wet "hnngh" escaping her throat, followed by a quick, shaky cough that rattled through her chest. The faint, breathy "uhh....uhh" sounds caught between her lips showed the struggle, but she kept going, never breaking her rhythm.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and her fingers curled against his skin.

He eased the pressure immediately, holding her there for just a second, and she drew back with a choked gasp, saliva trailing from her lips.

"God… you're brutal," she rasped, voice raw and breathless. "But don't stop…"

Her mouth returned without hesitation, lips wrapping around him again. This time, she pushed herself lower, her throat adjusting inch by inch.

It wasn't easy, every movement was effort....but her mouth began to mold to his shape, her rhythm smoother.

"I swear you were made to ruin mouths," she whispered during a brief breath. "But I'm not letting go… so go ahead. Use me how you want."

Her voice was hoarse, full of devotion and submission.

And yet, in her eyes, there was pride. Pride that despite the tears, the gagging, and the ache, she was taking all of him.

For him.

After a long, torturous moment, he finally broke the silence. His deep voice low and steady, "You doing okay?"

Her eyes locked with his, shimmering with a mix of determination and submission. "I can take it. Keep going."

He nodded, then slid his hand up her hair, steadying her as he slowly began to push deeper, every inch met with a slight, guttural gag, but she never pulled away.

The way her throat stretched around him, the subtle twitch of her muscles beneath his touch, it all sent shivers down his spine.

He felt every curve, every hold, like a sculptor tracing the masterpiece he was shaping.

Her breaths hitched; a fragile melody of pleasure and struggle. "You're so full… so fucking perfect," she murmured, voice muffled but proud.

He increased the pace gradually, careful but commanding, feeling her throat tighten and loosen rhythmically with each thrust.

Her hands gripped his thighs as her body trembled.

He slowed, just enough to let his length rest against the back of her throat. His hips steadied, and he looked down at her, heavy-lidded with effort and want.

"May I?" he murmured, lips brushing her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open, gleaming with hunger.

"Please," she rasped, voice tight.

In a single motion, he slipped free and guided the head back to her mouth. She closed around him instantly, greedy and practiced. Her tongue worked him like a skilled chef fondles a piece of the finest meat, slow, methodical, reveling in every sip and swirl.

He dropped his head back, a low groan rumbling in his chest as the sensations built. Her cheeks hollowed around him, suction deepening, pressing him closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck…" he breathed, voice thick.

She matched his rhythm with her lips and tongue, increasing the heat, hungry, unrestrained, as though she wanted to swallow him whole. The wet, fierce sound of her mouth combined with his ragged breathing made the moment feel suspended in pure, animalistic need.

And then it hit him.

A rush so intense it blurred the edges of his vision, like molten silk pouring from his core. He came in waves, hot, urgent, overwhelming, his release flooding her mouth with a pulse of heat. She swallowed greedily, throat working as she sucked down every drop.

He sagged against her, chest heaving, world spinning. She stayed on her knees, gently bobbing, capturing every last tremor.

When he finally came fully back to himself, he pulled free. He stepped back, leaning against the desk, and watched her.

She sat back on her heels, fingers trembling as they wiped the shine away. Her lips parted, chest rising and falling in slow, satisfied pants.

He slid his gaze across her....eyes dark with triumph and something softer.

"Good girl," he said, voice husky.

She lifted trembling hands to her cheeks, then reached up to trace a slender finger down his length, wiping a bead of cum that had escaped. It slid through her fingers, marking her chest, then continued toward the swell of her breasts like molten pearls.

She let it linger, fingertips brushing the warm ribbon, then tilted her head back, breath catching in a soft moan of complete, shameless satisfaction.

_____

He caught her gaze, dark and shimmering with satisfaction, and a slow, wicked smile played on her lips.

"I've never been this ruined," she breathed, voice low and tremulous. "Just from this… Oh God, what's going to happen to me? I'll be completely destroyed… ruined… taking you like this, fully."

He leaned in, voice teasing and thick with promise. "Then why don't you bend over, and I'll show you exactly how ruined you can be?"

Her eyes snapped wide, a quick flush rising to her cheeks as she shook her head vehemently. "No! No! No! I planned to take you in… but now? I can't. Not like this. I can't go back home if I take this in me. It would completely undo me. Ruin me."

She glanced covertly toward the corner of the room, where she knew the secret camera watched, her expression shifting playfully.

"And… we've been at this long enough. I think our dear director is starting to get impatient."

He caught the look and smirked, already knowing about the cameras. He'd suspected something was watching their game—but that only made it more thrilling.

So, he decided to give the show willingly.

He smoothed his hair back and said with mock solemnity, ""Alright, let's plan this right. Believe me, I want to be inside you properly… every inch, every way. But I'll respect your line, for now. You still have a husband waiting, don't you?"

She smiled, a mix of relief and desire flickering in her eyes, and nodded.

"I appreciate that," she whispered. "But when the time's right… I won't hold back."

The words hung in the air like a loaded gun.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

But someone was watching.

Behind a muted screen, across the building, in a darkened office… another woman sat, lips parted, eyes wide.

She had seen everything.

___

Author's Note:

Questions for You, My Dear Degenerates....I Mean, Readers:

1) How do you want their next encounter to go? Romantic? Rough? Public? Private?

2) Should she finally let him ruin her properly… or keep playing the "good girl" game a little longer?

3) Do you want the next setting to be a boardroom? A car? A rainy rooftop? Suggest away!

4) What kind of "punishment" do you think he has in mind next?

5) Any spicy dialogue or bold moves you'd love to see them try? Drop your guilty fantasies. I won't judge.....much.