Kai knocked three times, the sound sharp against the heavy wood.
Almost immediately, the door creaked open. A wave of warm, humid air rolled out, carrying the scent of rose soap and damp skin.
Mrs. Lin stood there, clutching the lapels of a thin, white silk robe. She was flushed, her skin glowing with a rosy hue that only a hot bath could produce. Her dark hair was wet, plastered to her long, elegant neck, with droplets racing down to disappear into the V of her robe.
[Ding!][Target Identified: Lin Mei][Age: 38][Status: Merchant's Wife (Neglected)][Current Mood: Relaxed / Vulnerable]
She blinked, surprised to see him. "Kai? Oh my, you're up and walking?" Her eyes swept over him, concern softening her features. "Your mother told me you were burning with fever just yesterday. Are you sure you should be out?"
"I'm feeling much better, Mrs. Lin," Kai said, his voice dropping to a smooth, low register. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, letting his eyes rake over her form with a boldness the old Kai never possessed. "Actually, seeing you look so... refreshed... I think my health just improved even more."
Mrs. Lin froze for a second, her cheeks darkening to a deeper shade of red. She laughed nervously, a breathless, airy sound. "Oh, you... you are too much sometimes, Kai. A little fever made you bold?"
She stepped back, tightening the sash of her robe, though the motion only pulled the fabric tighter across her hips. She had a body made for sin—a quintessential hourglass figure. Her waist was thick and soft, flaring out into thighs that looked like they could crush a man's skull or cushion his head for eternity. But it was her chest that drew the eye. Even under the robe, her breasts were clearly heavy, sitting low and loose on her chest, swaying with every small movement.
"Come in, come in," she ushered him. "Just put the milk in the kitchen. I was just about to make tea."
Kai stepped inside, the clay pot heavy in his hands. The house was dim, the curtains drawn.
"Just on the counter," she said, turning to lead the way.
Kai followed, his eyes glued to the sway of her ass beneath the silk. As he neared the kitchen threshold, he saw his opening. A slightly uneven floorboard.
He didn't need to trip, but he let his foot catch it anyway.
"Whoa!"
Kai lurched forward. The clay pot tipped.
"Kai!" Mrs. Lin turned just in time.
Splash.
A wave of thick, white milk erupted from the pot. It didn't hit the floor. It hit her.
The white liquid splashed directly onto her chest, soaking the thin silk robe instantly. Mrs. Lin gasped, the cold liquid shocking her warm skin. The fabric, now wet and translucent, clung to her like a second skin, turning transparent.
The view was breathtaking.
Her breasts were magnificent—massive, heavy mounds of pale, mature flesh that hung with a natural, enticing weight. They weren't the perky, gravity-defying mounds of a young girl; they were soft, fluid, and overwhelmingly large. The wet silk plastered to them, revealing everything: the dark, wide areolas, the thick veins running under the milky skin, and the hard, darker nubs of her nipples that were instantly erecting from the cold milk.
The milk dripped down her cleavage in slow, thick rivulets, pooling in the deep valley between her breasts and soaking into the sash at her waist.
"Oh no!" Kai gasped, dropping the pot to the counter with a clatter. "Mrs. Lin, I'm so clumsy! I'm so sorry!"
"It's... it's okay," Mrs. Lin stammered, looking down at her soaked chest in shock. "I... I'll go get a towel..."
"No, let me help. It's my fault," Kai interrupted.
Before she could protest, he closed the distance. He didn't reach for a towel. He reached for her.
"Kai, wait—"
His hands landed on her breasts.
The contact was electric. Her breasts were incredibly soft, like warm dough filled with water. They filled his hands completely, spilling over his fingers. The milk made her skin slick, reducing all friction.
"I'll clean it off," Kai whispered, his voice dark and hypnotic.
He didn't wipe. He massaged.
His palms cupped the heavy underside of her breasts, lifting the weight of them. He used his thumbs to smear the white liquid across her skin, circling inward. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the heavy, frantic beating of her heart beneath the soft flesh.
Mrs. Lin's breath hitched, turning into a high-pitched whimper. She didn't push him away. She stood paralyzed, her hands hovering in the air, her lips parted.
"Kai..." she breathed, her voice trembling. "What are you... doing?"
"Cleaning," Kai murmured. He squeezed. His fingers sank deep into the yielding softness of her tits, kneading them. The milk acted as a lubricant, making the sound of his hands on her skin—squelch, slick, pat—echo obscenely in the quiet kitchen.
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples through the wet silk. They were hard as stones.
"You're so messy, Mrs. Lin," he whispered, looking her dead in the eye while his hands continued to milk her breasts, spreading the white fluid over every inch of her exposed cleavage.