The afternoon sun slanted through the half-closed shoji screens, painting warm golden stripes across the tatami in Haruto's living room. He'd tried to work—really tried—opening his drawing program, sketching rough panel layouts for a client deadline. But every few minutes his eyes drifted to the kitchen counter where Aiko had bent over earlier, or to the genkan where Mio had pressed against him like she'd die without his cock inside her. His body felt wired, restless, like the addictive loop they'd started was now running through him too.
His phone had been vibrating nonstop since Aiko's group chat photo. Notifications stacked: heart reacts, shocked emojis, private messages from names he didn't recognize. One thread in particular kept pinging.
Yui Sato: Tanaka-oniichan? It's Yui, from next door. The one who used to borrow your old volumes of Attack on Titan when I was in middle school. Um… can I come over? I need manga advice for a uni project. Pretty please?
He stared at the message. Yui was the Sato family's youngest—twenty now, second-year art student at a women's university in central Tokyo. She'd always been the quiet one: big doe eyes behind round glasses, shoulder-length bob with soft bangs, petite frame that made her look younger than she was. She used to wave shyly over the fence when he mowed the tiny lawn. "Oniichan" had been her nickname for him back then. Innocent. Kid-sister innocent.
The timing felt too perfect. Too suspicious.
He typed back: Sure. Door's unlocked. Come in when you get here.
Less than ten minutes later, the front door slid open with a soft rattle.
Yui stepped inside wearing a simple white blouse tucked into a pleated navy skirt—her university's casual summer uniform—and white knee-high socks. A lightweight cardigan hung off one shoulder, and she carried a slim canvas tote bag slung across her body. Her cheeks were already pink when she spotted him sitting on the low sofa.
"Tanaka-oniichan," she said softly, bowing. "Thank you for letting me bother you."
"You're not bothering me," he replied, gesturing to the cushion opposite him. "What's the project?"
She knelt on the tatami instead of sitting on the sofa, setting her bag down carefully. From it she pulled a battered sketchbook and a few dog-eared volumes of shoujo manga.
"It's for character design class," she explained, voice small. "We have to redesign classic archetypes with modern twists. I wanted to do something with… um… forbidden romance. Like, older guy and younger girl next door." She swallowed. "I thought maybe you could help with references. Since you draw for a living."
Haruto raised an eyebrow. "Forbidden romance, huh?"
Yui's face went scarlet. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, knees pressed tightly together.
"I… I heard things," she admitted in a whisper. "From Mio-oneesan this morning. And then Aiko-obasan sent that photo in the group chat. Everyone's talking about it. About how… how good it feels. How full. How you just… keep going."
She looked up at him through her lashes, eyes shining.
"I tried to ignore it. I really did. I went to the library, tried to focus on my sketches. But every time I closed my eyes I kept imagining it. Your… your thing inside me. Stretching me. Filling me up until I can't think anymore." Her voice cracked. "I got so wet just thinking about it that I had to leave. My panties were soaked by the time I got home. I changed twice."
Haruto's cock twitched in his jeans. He could see the way her thighs trembled, the subtle press of her knees trying to ease the ache.
"Yui…"
"Please," she whispered. "Just once. I won't tell anyone. I just want to know what they're feeling. What makes them come back begging."
He stood slowly. Walked over to the low wooden table where the futon was folded during the day. With one smooth motion he unfolded it, spreading the thick quilt across the tatami.
Yui watched, breathing shallow. When he turned back to her, she rose on unsteady legs and stepped closer.
He reached out, cupped her cheek. She leaned into the touch like a kitten.
"Take off your cardigan," he said quietly.
Her fingers shook as she shrugged it off. Then the blouse—button by button, revealing a plain white bra that cupped small, perky breasts. She unhooked the skirt next, letting it pool at her feet. White cotton panties, already darkened at the crotch with arousal. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband, slid them down, stepped out.
Naked except for the knee socks and glasses, she looked impossibly young and vulnerable. But her eyes burned with need.
Haruto pulled his shirt over his head, kicked off his jeans. His cock sprang free—thick, veined, already leaking. Yui's gaze dropped to it and she let out a soft, involuntary whimper.
"It's… bigger than I imagined," she breathed.
He guided her down onto the futon, laying her on her back. She spread her legs shyly, knees bent, feet flat on the quilt. Between her thighs she was glistening, pink folds swollen and slick.
He settled between her legs, braced on his forearms. The head of his cock nudged her entrance. She tensed, then relaxed with a shaky exhale.
"Slow," she whispered. "At first."
He pushed in carefully.
Yui's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. Her walls were impossibly tight—hot, velvety, fluttering around every inch as he sank deeper. Halfway in she whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders.
"Too much?" he asked.
"No—don't stop. Please don't stop."
He kept going until he was buried to the hilt. She was so snug it almost hurt, her body gripping him like it never wanted to let go. When he bottomed out she shuddered, hips jerking up instinctively.
"Full," she moaned softly. "So full… it's pressing everywhere…"
He started moving—gentle rolls at first, letting her adjust. Yui's moans were high and breathy, almost kitten-like. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back.
"Faster," she pleaded after a minute. "I want to feel it. All of it."
He picked up the pace. Thrusts turned deeper, harder. The futon creaked under them, wet sounds filling the room every time he plunged in. Yui's glasses fogged; she didn't care. Her head tossed side to side, bangs sticking to her sweaty forehead.
"I'm—ah—I'm gonna—"
Her first orgasm hit like a wave. She arched off the futon, walls clamping down so tight Haruto groaned. She came with soft, hiccuping cries, body trembling, a fresh gush of wetness coating him.
He didn't stop.
He fucked her through it, then faster still. Yui's eyes rolled back, mouth open in continuous moans.
"Again—again—Haruto-oniichan—come inside—please—"
He felt his own release building. He slammed in deep one last time and came hard—thick, pulsing jets flooding her tight channel. Yui keened, legs locking around him, milking every drop as her second climax crashed over her.
He stayed buried while they both panted. When he finally pulled out, a thick stream of white followed, pooling on the futon beneath her.
But Yui wasn't done.
She rolled onto her stomach, lifted her hips, looked back at him with glassy eyes.
"More," she whispered. "I want to feel it from behind. Please."
Haruto knelt behind her, gripped her narrow hips, and slid back in. She was even tighter this way, walls fluttering wildly. He fucked her steadily—deep, rhythmic strokes that made her small breasts sway and her moans turn muffled against the quilt.
Third round came fast. Yui came again first—body shaking, ass pushing back to meet him. Haruto followed seconds later, burying himself and unloading another heavy load deep inside her already overflowing pussy.
When he finally slipped free, cum dripped steadily down her thighs. Yui collapsed onto her stomach, breathing hard, a dazed smile on her face.
"Thank you, oniichan," she murmured. "It was… better than the rumors. So much better."
She reached back, scooped some of the leaking cum onto her fingers, brought it to her lips and licked it clean with a soft hum.
"I should go study now," she said, though she made no move to get up. "But… I'll come back after class tomorrow. If that's okay?"
Haruto nodded, still catching his breath.
Yui dressed slowly—panties first, wincing as the soaked cotton pressed against her sensitive folds. She adjusted her skirt, smoothed her blouse, pushed her glasses up her nose.
At the genkan she paused, turned back to him.
"I told my roommate about it," she confessed shyly. "She didn't believe me at first. But now she wants proof. Maybe… maybe next time she can come too?"
She bowed, small and polite.
Then she slipped out into the afternoon light.
Haruto sat alone on the futon, staring at the wet spot she'd left behind.
His phone buzzed again.
New message in the group chat—from Yui.
A selfie: her lying on her dorm bed, skirt hiked, fingers spreading her cum-filled pussy.
Caption: It's real. And it's addictive. Who's brave enough for tomorrow? ♡
The replies flooded in instantly.
Haruto's screen lit up with another notification.
Reina Takahashi again.
Tanaka-san… I can be there in twenty minutes. Lunch break is almost over. Please don't make me wait.
The doorbell would ring soon.
He already knew it.