"Well now, Naoki-kun." Tenka turning around and letting her short blonde hair brush against her smooth shoulders. She looked at Naoki with a predatory, sultry smile that seemed capable of melting any man's defenses. "Don't just stand there—hurry up and get those clothes off. Or... would you like me to do it for you?"
If a typical beta anime protagonist were faced with that question, he would undoubtedly be mortified—flushed cheeks, a fountain of a nosebleed, and a swift fainting spell before he could even stutter an answer. But Naoki was cut from a different cloth. He was a man who didn't know the meaning of the word 'shame.' Or, at the very least, he had long since crossed the threshold where modesty was relevant.
"Really? In that case, I'll leave it to you."
Naoki spread his arms wide, striking the pose of a king being attended to by his handmaidens. He then shot a glance at the other girl standing nearby, who had her arms folded tightly over her chest—trying to cover something that, frankly, no longer needed covering.
"Yachiho, you too."
"Huh?! Why do I have to do it?"
Yachiho's arms shifted from her chest to her hips, a defiant posture that ironically only served to expose her figure even more.
Tenka chuckled and pulled Yachiho closer by the arm. "Oh, come on, Yachiho-chin. We're practically sisters now since we share the same man. Helping our husband—I mean, our boyfriend—get ready for his bath is a noble duty, isn't it?"
Under the weight of Tenka's undeniable "sisterhood" rhetoric, Yachiho could only let out a defeated huff.
"Fine."
"I'll take the top." Tenka said, her tone bright and airy.
Yachiho gave a stiff nod. "I'll handle the bottom, then."
And so began an undressing ritual unlike anything Naoki had ever experienced. Two stunning women, both entirely nude, set to work stripping him of his clothes.
Tenka started with his uniform shirt. With slow, deliberate movements, she popped the buttons one by one from top to bottom. Her fingertips grazed the skin of Naoki's chest occasionally, sending a prickling shiver down his spine.
At the same time, Yachiho knelt before him. Her face was crimson; the act of kneeling before a man who was still fully clothed felt incredibly... submissive. She grumbled under her breath, but her fingers remained dutiful as she unbuckled his belt and unhooked his trousers.
"Damn it, why are these pants so complicated!"
Yachiho tugged the fabric down, revealing Naoki's sturdy thighs. She pulled them all the way to the floor, leaving him in nothing but his dark underwear.
By now, Tenka had finished unbuttoning his shirt. She pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it slide down his back to join his pants on the floor. Her hands then traced a gentle path across his chest.
"You have a fine body, Naoki-kun."
Yachiho, still on her knees, gave a sharp snort. "Don't pamper him too much, or his ego will get even bigger."
Only one final layer remained. Naoki stood between the two of them, his underwear still intact but clearly unable to hide what lay beneath. Both Tenka and Yachiho noticed it—and while Yachiho tried to keep her cool, her burning cheeks spoke louder than any words could.
Tenka smiled. Her fingers caught the waistband of his briefs.
"Together?"
Yachiho nodded silently.
On Tenka's count of three, they slid the final piece of fabric down in unison.
"..."
A heavy silence filled the changing room.
Naoki stood tall before them, completely naked, his manhood standing proud—as it likely had been since the moment he first watched the three of them undress. There was no embarrassment on his face, only a keen awareness of the situation.
Tenka looked down, her eyes landing squarely on the turgid length before her. She wasn't surprised—not anymore, after everything that had passed between them.
"Naoki-kun, it seems you've been turned on for quite a while?"
Naoki simply shrugged. "With the view in front of me, what man wouldn't be?"
Tenka let out a low chuckle. She stepped in close, pressing her bare skin against his side, and then leaned down gracefully. Her red lips—still slick with the remnants of lipstick she hadn't wiped off—brushed the tip of his member in a brief but meaningful kiss.
When she pulled back, a pale pink lip-print remained, stamped clearly onto his skin.
"A little souvenir." She whispered with a playful grin.
Yachiho, still kneeling on the other side, watched the whole thing with wide eyes. Her face, which had been merely red, was now a searing, boiled-lobster scarlet. She scrambled back half a step, hands twitching as if to cover her eyes, yet hesitating.
"C-Chief!"
Tenka looked over casually. "It's fine, Yachiho. We're all adults here, aren't we?"
"Being 'adults' and doing lewd things in a changing room are two different things!" Yachiho scrambled to her feet, finally throwing her hands up to shield a face that was burning all the way to the tips of her ears. "E-Enough! Just get into the bath! Sahara already went in; we shouldn't keep her waiting!"
She spun on her heel and hurried toward the sliding wooden door of the bath area without waiting for a reply.
Tenka shot Naoki a humored look. "It seems our little sister is getting impatient."
Naoki gave a small smile. "Let's catch up."
◆━⊰✿✧✿⊱━◆
The bathing area of the Sixth Unit headquarters was designed with a traditional Japanese hot spring aesthetic, offering a soothing, natural atmosphere. Cold natural stone floors beneath their feet, neatly arranged wooden stools along the rock walls, and a large central bath with steam curling off the surface made it feel like an exclusive mountain ryokan.
But before entering the pool, there was the ritual—cleaning the body first. It was the cardinal rule of Japanese bathing.
Tenka patted the shoulder of a still-flustered Yachiho.
"Come, let's help Naoki-kun wash up. As a reward for his patience in waiting for us all."
Yachiho wanted to refuse—her mouth opened to launch a protest—but Tenka was already pulling her toward an empty stool by the shower stalls.
"You take the front, I'll take the back." Tenka grabbing a sponge and liquid soap from the wooden wall rack.
Naoki sat on the small provided stool, his back to Tenka and his front to Yachiho.
Yachiho gripped another sponge with stiff movements. She knelt before Naoki, trying her best to look indifferent. Inside her heart, however, a storm was raging.
(This is indecent. This is beyond indecent. I, a daughter of the Azuma family, am kneeling before a naked man, ready to wash him like a servant...)
She bit her lip. On the other side, Tenka had already begun. She poured soap onto Naoki's back, then rubbed it in slowly with the sponge. Her movements were gentle and circular, traveling from his shoulders down to his spine and back up his sides.
"Your back is tense, Naoki-kun." Tenka remarked, applying a bit more pressure to his shoulders. "I'll give you a massage after the bath."
Meanwhile, Yachiho was struggling with her sponge, which felt as heavy as lead. She lathered it up and began to wipe Naoki's chest with the stiff, jerky motions of a robot.
"You could be a little gentler, Yachiho." Naoki said casually. "I'm not a dirty plate you're scrubbing."
"I know that!" Yachiho snapped, but her movements did soften.
She wiped his chest from the center outward, tracing the firm contours of his muscles.
(I've been intimate with him so many times. So why do I feel so awkward now?) Yachiho wondered.
The answer was simple: because it was happening in front of Tenka. And because doing something intimate behind closed doors was vastly different from doing something semi-intimate in an open space like this.
Behind him, Tenka began to soap his lower back. The sponge circled his waist, dipping near the sensitive lower boundary but never quite touching—a deliberate form of torture.
Reluctantly, Yachiho had to clean the lower half as well. She took a deep breath and began to wipe Naoki's lower abdomen, the sponge sliding down past his navel, and then further still.
She tried her hardest to maintain a mask of indifference—a flat expression, half-lidded eyes, as if this were the most boring chore in the world. But her racing pulse and scarlet cheeks betrayed everything.
(Stay calm. It's just a bath. Just cleaning a body. Nothing weird about this.)
"Naoki-kun, are you enjoying this?" Tenka whispered into his ear.
Naoki, who had been trying to keep his composure, finally exhaled. "You both know the answer to that."
Tenka chuckled softly.
Hearing that whisper made Yachiho feel a surge of competitiveness. She sped up her movements, wanting to finish this "humiliating" task as quickly as possible. But in her haste, the sponge she was using began to strike Naoki's sensitive area more frequently—and each time it happened, she felt as if she'd been hit by a bolt of electricity.
"Yachiho. If you keep doing that, there will be consequences." Naoki said, his voice dropping an octave into a low rasp.
Yachiho froze, realizing exactly what he meant. She looked up and saw Naoki's member standing tall again—sturdier than before—staring right back at her face from point-blank range.
Faced with this high-end brothel treatment, Naoki couldn't hold back.
"Ahhh~"
With a sharp hiss, a thick spurt of white fluid erupted, arching through the air and splashing onto Yachiho's chest—landing right between her firm breasts.
Yachiho was stunned. Her eyes widened, staring at the warm liquid as it slowly trickled down her skin, forming a white trail across her flat stomach.
A deafening silence fell over them.
Then...
"You idiot! Look at what you've done!" Yachiho shrieked in frustration, trying to wipe the white fluid away. "You made a mess of me and wasted those precious seeds! You should have released that inside me so I could get pregnant!"
Tenka patted Yachiho's shoulder to de-escalate. "Now, now, Yachiho-chin. You can get your 'share' tonight. Naoki-kun, go ahead and soak. Yachiho and I will join you after we finish cleaning ourselves."
Yachiho blinked, processing those words. She shot Naoki a fleeting glance, then quickly averted her eyes, her face turning even redder.
"T-That's not the point..."
Naoki nodded, standing up from his stool. He took a small towel to drape over his front—not out of shame, but because walking nude on wet floors felt slightly precarious—and stepped toward the steaming pool.
◆━⊰✿✧✿⊱━◆
The hot water enveloped Naoki up to his neck, releasing the last of the muscle tension from the day's long events. He leaned his head back against the stone rim, savoring the warmth as it seeped into his joints.
Across from him, Sahara was leaning back in the same position, submerged to her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady and deep. From a distance, it was hard to tell if she was meditating or fast asleep.
However, there was one thing Naoki couldn't help but notice.
Even submerged, the shape of Sahara's breasts remained clearly defined beneath the surface. The hot water slicked her pale skin, and with every steady breath she took, there was a gentle ripple on the water's surface around her chest—a motion caused by something large enough to displace significant volume with a mere breath.
Naoki realized he was staring. He didn't try to hide it. There was no point in pretending he wasn't looking when his interest was so obvious.
But women are highly sensitive to the gaze directed at them, and Sahara opened her eyes.
There was no shock, no offense—only a calm awareness that she was being watched.
"Is something wrong, Naoki-san? Is something wrong?" she asked with her characteristic lazy drawl.
Naoki wasn't startled at being caught. He simply gave a small shake of his head. "Nothing is wrong. My apologies if I made you uncomfortable."
Sahara blinked once, then twice, before slowly shaking her head. "It's fine. I was just curious why you were looking at me like that."
"Because I'm curious." Naoki answered honestly.
Sahara tilted her head slightly, a movement that inadvertently caused her wet blonde hair to shift on her shoulder. "Curious about what?"
Naoki took a breath. He wasn't the type to beat around the bush. If he had a question, he'd ask it straight.
"I'm curious about your bust size. I know Tenka is an F-cup and Yachiho is a C-cup. But yours are clearly bigger than Tenka's."
Instead of being offended or angry like most women, Sahara looked down at her submerged chest, then back at Naoki with the same look—drowsy, calm, a little confused.
"G-cup." Sahara answered lightly, followed by a long sigh that sounded like a habit. "Having breasts this big isn't actually very pleasant, Naoki-san."
"Not pleasant?" Naoki asked, intrigued.
"My shoulders are always sore." Sahara began counting on her fingers, her movements slow as if she were tallying a list. "My back, too. When I buy clothes, it's hard to find ones that fit. If I run, it hurts. If I go down the stairs, I have to be careful. And... if I want to tie my shoelaces, I can't see them."
Naoki almost laughed at the last one. "You can't see them?"
Sahara nodded seriously. "So I have to tie my shoes just by feel." She sighed again. "I'm actually jealous of Yachiho-san. Her size is ideal—no hassle, and she still looks great. Or Tenka-san; an F-cup is quite nice as well."
She looked at Naoki with honest eyes. "In your opinion, Naoki-san, what is the ideal size?"
Naoki considered the question for a moment. "I don't think there's a universal answer. But if you said that... well, if flat-chested women heard you, they'd certainly give you a piece of their mind. They crave what they don't have."
"Is that so?" Sahara tilted her head. "Does Naoki-san like breasts very much?"
"Of course." Naoki replied firmly. "Breasts are humanity's first source of nutrition. Biologically and psychologically, they symbolize comfort and life. They are nature's masterpiece."
Sahara didn't quite grasp Naoki's strange philosophy, but she made a staggering offer. "In that case... do you want to touch them?"
"...?"
Naoki was stunned for a moment.
"Are you... serious?"
"Why? Does Naoki-san not want to?"
"It's not that I don't want to." Naoki said quickly, looking Sahara in the eye with a serious expression. "But you should know, Sahara. Saying something like that to a man is something you shouldn't do lightly."
"I wouldn't let just any man touch me." Sahara countered calmly. "But if it's Naoki-san, I don't mind."
Naoki gazed at Sahara for a few seconds. There was no awkwardness on her face, no coquettishness, no seduction. Just the pure sincerity of a girl who simply didn't see an issue with her invitation.
"You truly are an extraordinary woman, Sahara." Naoki murmured—whether it was a compliment or just a statement of fact, it was hard to say.
Sahara blinked, not understanding why she was being called extraordinary. But then Naoki moved.
The water rippled softly as he approached Sahara in the pool. Warm steam enveloped them both as the distance between them shrank to a few centimeters.
Sahara didn't move. She just stared at Naoki with those same eyes—drowsy, calm, devoid of fear or bashfulness.
"May I?" Naoki asked once more, his hand already raised but not yet touching.
"You may."
Naoki's right palm touched Sahara's left breast.
The first sensation he felt was warmth—warmer than the surrounding water, as if this part of her body naturally held a slightly higher temperature. Then came the softness. Not the softness of a pillow or foam, but a living, breathing softness that moved slowly with the rhythm of Sahara's chest.
"Wow..." Naoki took a breath.
His palm wasn't large enough to cover the entire breast. His fingers spread wide, trying to grasp more, yet there were still parts beyond his reach. It filled his hand perfectly, flowing between his fingers like dense, fine sand.
"This is... incredible!"
Sahara looked down at Naoki's hand on her chest. "Naoki-san, your palm isn't big enough."
Naoki gave a small laugh. "I noticed."
He moved his hand slowly, feeling the natural weight pressing against his palm, feeling the supple skin slide under his touch. Sahara's nipple, which had previously been soft and flat, began to harden between his fingers.
"Does this... feel good?"
Naoki tried to read Sahara's face, which remained tranquil.
Sahara closed her eyes for a moment, as if taking it in.
"Hmm... warm. Naoki-san's hands are warm."
Naoki leaned his face in close, his breath mingling with the steam between them. "Do you want me to stop?"
Sahara opened her eyes and looked at him. "No."
His other hand came up to join the first; now both of Sahara's breasts were in Naoki's grasp. He squeezed gently, feeling the soft resistance pushing back, feeling Sahara's pulse thrumming faster than he expected.
"You know." Naoki whispered, "breasts this size are usually more sensitive."
Sahara gave a small nod. "Yes. Sometimes they even ache on their own."
"And now?"
Sahara considered the question. "Now... they don't ache. They feel light."
Naoki smiled. His hands moved more gently, caressing her with a steady rhythm, applying just the right amount of pressure—enough to be felt, but never enough to hurt.
👨🏻💻Support me by reading on my Patreon: Patreon.com/cw/transenden or bit.ly/4uObLvf
☕Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/lovefanfiction
🛍️Benefits:
🎁Access 180+ chapters: [Anime Crossover: Making Money in Classroom of the Elite]
🎁Access Kamikawa Naoki
🎁Access 30 chapters: [Journey to Planar Word]
🎁Access 120+ chapters: [Infinity Reincarnation]
📜Update Schedule:
📨Translated Fanfiction: 3 chapters per day
📨Original Fanfiction: 1-3 chapters per day
👍🏻Thank you so much for your incredible support, everyone!👍🏻