The bass thumped like a second heartbeat inside *Velvet Pulse*, a neon-lit club buried in Shibuya's back alleys. Takashi nursed a whiskey at the bar, eyes tracking the dance floor. Aiko was impossible to miss—black hair whipping as she moved, red dress painted on like sin, hips rolling to the rhythm with predatory grace. Men orbited her like moths.
He'd followed her here twice before, learning her pattern. Friday nights: shots, flirting, disappearance into the VIP booths with whoever caught her eye. Tonight, she wore no panties—he'd checked the laundry hamper that morning, found the red thong still damp from her afternoon shower.
Aiko laughed at something a tall salaryman whispered, then let him lead her toward the back. Takashi slid off his stool, pulse steady. He knew the booth layout: velvet curtains, dim sconces, just enough privacy for what she craved.
He waited outside the curtain, counting heartbeats. Muffled moans leaked through—hers, throaty and familiar. A zipper. Fabric rustling. Then the wet slap of skin on skin.
Takashi parted the curtain an inch.
Aiko was bent over the low table, dress rucked up to her waist, the stranger gripping her hips as he thrust into her from behind. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted in a silent gasp each time he bottomed out. One of her hands braced on the table; the other rubbed frantic circles over her clit. The man groaned, pace faltering—he was close.
Takashi stepped inside, letting the curtain fall shut. The stranger froze mid-thrust.
Aiko's eyes snapped open, locking on her brother. Shock flickered, then something wicked. "Takashi?"
The salaryman stammered, trying to pull out, but Aiko pushed back, keeping him buried. "Don't you dare stop," she hissed at the stranger, then smiled at Takashi. "Join us, big brother. Or watch. Your choice."
The man looked panicked. Takashi met his gaze, calm. "Finish in the hallway. She's done with you."
Aiko laughed—low, delighted—as the stranger scrambled away, pants around his ankles. The curtain swished shut behind him.
Alone now, she stayed bent over, dress still hiked, pussy glistening and swollen from use. "Jealous?" she teased, wiggling her ass. "Thought you'd never catch me."
Takashi stepped closer, trailing a finger up her slick thigh. "Not jealous. Inspired."
He knelt, spreading her cheeks to admire the view—pink, dripping, clenching around nothing. The scent of sex and her perfume filled his lungs. He leaned in, tongue dragging slowly from her clit to her entrance, tasting her and the faint salt of the stranger's precum.
Aiko shuddered. "Fuck… yes…"
He ate her like a starving man—long licks, gentle sucks on her labia, nose buried in her heat. When he speared his tongue inside, she pushed back, fucking his face with shallow rolls of her hips. Her fingers found her clit again, rubbing in time with his mouth.
"Takashi… need you. Now."
He stood, freeing his cock—already rock-hard from the taste of her. Aiko glanced back, licking her lips. "Condom?"
"No." He rubbed the head along her slit, coating himself. "You're on the pill. And you're mine tonight."
She moaned agreement, pushing back as he sank in—slow, relentless. Her walls fluttered around him, hotter and wetter than Miko's, experienced in a way that made his vision blur. He gripped her hips, pulling her onto him until his balls pressed against her clit.
"God, you're thick," she gasped, knuckles white on the table. "Move."
He did—long, deep strokes that dragged over every ridge inside her. The booth's mirror reflected them: Aiko's flushed face, tits spilling from her dress, Takashi behind her, muscles flexing with each thrust. He reached around, pinching her clit, and she came hard—pussy spasming, juices dripping down his shaft.
Takashi didn't stop. He flipped her onto her back on the table, hooking her legs over his shoulders. The new angle let him go deeper; she clawed at his shirt, nails raking his chest. "Harder," she begged. "Make me forget every cock but yours."
He obliged, pounding into her with a steady, punishing rhythm. The table creaked. Her second orgasm hit like a wave, back bowing, a silent scream as she soaked his cock. Takashi followed, burying himself to the root and unloading—pulse after pulse of hot cum painting her insides.
They stayed locked, panting. Aiko traced lazy circles on his arm. "So… this a one-time thing?"
Takashi pulled out slowly, watching his seed leak from her swollen pussy. He tucked himself away, then helped her fix her dress. "No. You come home early from now on. Or I show up again."
She grinned, wicked and sated. "Deal. But next time, bring Miko. I want to watch you break her on this table."
He kissed her, hard and possessive. "Soon."
Outside, the music still thumped. Inside, Aiko walked out on shaky legs, thighs slick with her brother's cum. Takashi followed, already planning the night he'd have them both.
Two down. One to go.
The apartment had become a cathedral of hushed moans and whispered commands.
Two weeks since Aiko's surrender in the club booth. Two weeks of stolen hours:
- Miko riding Takashi reverse-cowgirl on her desk chair while her webcam stayed dark, her reflection in the black screen the only witness.
- Aiko sneaking into his bed at 3 a.m., thighs still sticky from the club, begging him to fuck the strangers out of her memory.
Tonight, he wanted them together. No more separate rooms, no more pretending the walls were thick.
He texted them both:
**My room. 11 p.m. Wear nothing but the chokers I gave you.**
Miko arrived first, black velvet band snug around her throat like a collar. She dropped to her knees the moment the door clicked shut, mouthing his cock through his sweatpants until he was hard and leaking. Aiko slipped in minutes later, red leather choker gleaming against her tan skin. She locked the door behind her, eyes flicking to Miko's bobbing head with raw hunger.
Takashi sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread. "Show me how sisters play."
Aiko crawled forward, pushing Miko aside gently. They took turns—one licking the shaft while the other sucked the head, tongues tangling over his slit. He threaded fingers through their hair, guiding them in slow, wet strokes. The room filled with the slick sounds of mouths and soft, needy whimpers.
"Enough." He stood, cock glistening. "Miko, on your back. Aiko, straddle her face."
They obeyed instantly. Miko spread her legs, pussy already flushed and dripping. Aiko lowered herself, grinding slowly against her sister's eager tongue. Takashi knelt between Miko's thighs, rubbing his cockhead along her slit, teasing until she whined into Aiko's folds.
He pushed in—one long, deliberate thrust that buried him to the root. Miko's back arched, muffled cry vibrating against Aiko's clit. Takashi set a lazy rhythm, hips rolling, watching Aiko's tits bounce as she rode Miko's face. He reached forward, rolling Aiko's nipples between his fingers until she shuddered.
"Switch."
They moved like they'd rehearsed it. Aiko lay back, legs hooked over Takashi's shoulders as he slid into her slick heat. Miko straddled Aiko's face now, grinding down with soft gasps. Takashi leaned forward, capturing Miko's mouth in a deep kiss while he fucked Aiko harder, the wet slap of skin echoing.
He was close—too close—when he heard it.
A faint hitch of breath. Outside the door.
He froze mid-thrust, cock pulsing inside Aiko. Miko's eyes widened; Aiko lifted her head, lips shiny with Miko's juices.
Another sound—soft, rhythmic. A muffled gasp.
Takashi pulled out slowly, cum beading at his tip. He motioned for silence, then pointed to the door. The sisters moved like predators—naked, silent, chokers dark against their throats. Miko on the left, Aiko on the right. They yanked the door open in perfect sync.
Elena stumbled forward, silk robe half-open, one hand still buried between her thighs. Her fingers glistened; her massive breasts heaved with each panicked breath. Blonde hair stuck to her flushed cheeks. The scent of her arousal hit the air like perfume.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Then Elena's knees buckled. "I… I heard you. Every night. I couldn't—"
Takashi stepped forward, cock still hard and slick with his sisters' juices. "You've been touching yourself to your children fucking."
Elena's eyes locked on his erection, pupils blown wide. "Yes," she whispered, voice breaking. "God help me, yes."
He cupped her chin, tilting her face up. "Then you don't get to watch anymore. You join."
The sisters moved. Miko grabbed Elena's wrists, guiding her gently but firmly to the bed. Aiko untied the robe, letting it pool on the floor. Elena's body was a masterpiece—full, heavy breasts with pale pink nipples, a soft blonde landing strip above swollen, dripping lips. Gravure idol curves, aged like fine wine.
Takashi crawled between her thighs, inhaling her scent—richer, more mature than his sisters. He kissed her inner thigh, slow, reverent. Elena trembled.
"Tell me what you want, Mom."
Her voice cracked. "You. Inside me. Please."
He licked her once—slow, from entrance to clit. She cried out, hips bucking. Miko and Aiko held her down, each sucking a nipple, their hands roaming her body. Takashi ate her like a sacrament—long, worshipful strokes, tongue curling inside her until she sobbed.
When he rose, cock in hand, Elena spread her legs wider. "Do it. Make me yours."
He entered her in one smooth thrust—hot, velvet tightness, walls fluttering around him like they'd been waiting years. Elena's head fell back, a guttural moan tearing from her throat. He fucked her slow and deep, savoring every inch, every clench.
The sisters watched, fingering each other lazily. Miko leaned down, kissing Elena deeply; Aiko licked a stripe up her neck. Takashi picked up pace, hips snapping, the bed creaking under them.
"Cum for your son," he growled.
Elena shattered—back bowing, pussy spasming, a flood of wetness coating his cock. He followed seconds later, burying himself deep and filling her with thick ropes of cum.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs—Elena in the center, sisters curled against her, Takashi's cock still twitching inside her. He kissed her sweat-damp forehead.
"Welcome to the harem, Mom."
She smiled, dazed and sated. "About time."
Outside, the city slept. Inside, the Komiya family had finally become whole.
Morning light filtered through half-closed blinds, striping the bed in gold. Takashi woke to the slow, wet drag of a tongue along his cock—Elena, blonde hair spilling over his thighs like silk, her full lips sealed around his morning hardness. She hummed when he stirred, taking him deeper until her nose brushed his stomach. The vibration sent a lazy spark up his spine.
Miko and Aiko were curled on either side of him, still asleep, chokers snug against their throats. Miko's small hand rested on his chest; Aiko's leg was thrown over his, her pussy warm against his hip. Elena pulled off with a soft pop, licking a bead of precum from her lip.
"Breakfast in bed," she murmured, voice husky from sleep and last night's screams. "I made coffee, too."
Takashi threaded fingers through her hair, guiding her back down. "Coffee can wait."
She obeyed, sucking him slow and worshipful—tongue swirling the head, cheeks hollowing. Miko stirred, blinking awake, then smiled sleepily and joined her mother. Two mouths now—one on his shaft, one on his balls—working in perfect sync. Aiko woke to the wet sounds, stretched like a cat, and crawled down to lick where Elena's lips met Miko's.
Takashi let them play until his balls tightened, then pulled them up. "Shower. All of us."
---
The master bath steamed with heat. Four bodies under the rainfall shower—water cascading over Elena's heavy breasts, down Miko's slim waist, across Aiko's toned ass. Takashi soaped Elena first, hands sliding over her curves, thumbs circling her nipples until they pebbled. She moaned, pressing back against his cock.
Miko knelt, washing his legs, then took him in her mouth again—water streaming over her face. Aiko pressed against Elena from behind, fingers slipping between her mother's thighs to rub slow circles on her clit. Elena's head fell back on Aiko's shoulder, lips parted in a silent gasp.
Takashi pulled Miko up, turned her to face the tile, and slid into her from behind. She braced her hands, pushing back to meet each thrust. Aiko kept fingering Elena, who reached down to stroke Miko's clit in time with Takashi's thrusts. The chain of pleasure looped—mother to daughter to son—until Miko came with a sharp cry, walls fluttering around him.
He pulled out, spun Aiko around, and entered her in one slick push. Elena dropped to her knees, licking where they joined—tongue flicking Aiko's clit, then Takashi's shaft as it slid in and out. Aiko lasted longer, hips rolling, until she shattered with a curse, pussy clenching hard.
Takashi wasn't done. He lifted Elena, pressing her back to the tile, and thrust into her deep. Water sluiced between them; her legs locked around his waist. Miko and Aiko knelt on either side, each sucking a nipple, fingers teasing her clit together. Elena came with a broken sob, nails raking his shoulders, milking his own release—hot pulses deep inside her.
They stayed like that, panting under the cooling water, until Elena laughed softly. "I need to reheat the coffee."
---
Afternoons became ritual.
Miko's cam room stayed locked to the public, but the red "LIVE" light glowed for Takashi alone. She wore sheer lingerie, spread on her desk, fucking herself with a dildo while he watched from the chair. When she begged, he replaced the toy with his cock—slow, deep strokes while she moaned his name for the empty chat.
Aiko came home early now, no more club strangers. She'd strip in the hallway, drop to her knees, and suck him off against the front door—risky, thrilling, the threat of Elena walking in only making her wetter. Some nights he bent her over the kitchen counter while Elena cooked dinner, sliding into her silently as their mother stirred miso soup, pretending not to notice the soft gasps.
Evenings were for the four of them.
One night, Takashi lounged on the couch, Elena riding him reverse cowgirl—her ass bouncing slow and hypnotic, pussy gripping him like velvet. Miko straddled his face, grinding her slick folds against his tongue. Aiko knelt between his legs, licking Elena's clit and Takashi's shaft where they joined, her tongue flicking in time with Elena's thrusts.
Elena came first—head thrown back, blonde hair sticking to her sweat-slick back, walls pulsing around him. Miko followed, flooding his mouth with her sweet release. Aiko crawled up, kissing him deeply, tasting herself and her sister on his tongue. Takashi flipped her onto the couch, entered her hard and fast, Elena and Miko watching, fingers buried in each other's pussies.
He took his time with Aiko—long, deep strokes until she begged, then flipped her again, pulling out to paint her ass and back with thick ropes of cum. Elena leaned down, licking it clean, sharing the taste with Miko in a slow, filthy kiss.
---
Later, tangled in his bed, Elena traced lazy circles on his chest. "You've collected us all," she murmured. "Camgirl. Club slut. Gravure idol. What more could you want?"
Takashi kissed her forehead, then Miko's, then Aiko's. "Nothing. This is everything."
Miko nuzzled his neck. "We're yours. Always."
Aiko smirked, already half-asleep. "Just don't get greedy. Four's the limit."
He laughed softly, pulling them closer. Outside, Tokyo buzzed on, oblivious. Inside, the Komiya family had rewritten the rules of desire—no secrets left, no boundaries unbroken.
And every night, the apartment echoed with their quiet, perfect symphony.