Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 1132: The Tent in The Pyjamas

Kasumi gasped, her hand shooting out to grab the other end, her eyes wide with panic. ”N-No, Jack! I can do it myself!” she stammered, pulling the futon toward her as if shielding it from my view.

But I didn’t let go.

Instead, I pulled back, a playful tug-of-war unfolding between us. The futon stretched taut, the wet spot now fully exposed, the glistening dampness impossible to ignore.

”Jack, stop—! This is... this is embarrassing—!” Kasumi whispered fiercely, her face burning as she tried to yank the futon away from me. But her strength was no match for mine, and with a sudden, deliberate tug, I pulled it free from her grip.

And then—

I let myself fall forward, my body collapsing onto the futon with a soft thud. My face landed directly on the wet spot, the warm, sticky residue of Kasumi’s squirt soaking into my cheek.

The fabric was damp, clinging to my skin, and I inhaled deeply, the musky, intoxicating scent of her arousal filling my senses. It was thick, sweet, and unmistakably hers—the scent of her desire, the proof of her climax.

Kasumi froze, her breath catching in her throat. ”J-Jack...?!” Her voice was a horrified whisper, her hands flying to her mouth as she stared at me, her eyes wide with shock and shame.

”What are you—?! Get up! Get UP!” Her body trembled, her face burning crimson as she glanced frantically toward Tomiko, who was still asleep but only a few feet away.

I sat back slowly, my lips glistening with the remnants of her juices. A small, wet mark was smeared across my cheek, and without thinking, my tongue darted out, licking it away with a slow, deliberate motion.

Kasumi gasped, her face flushing even deeper. ”Don’t... don’t lick it... It’s disgusting...” she whispered, her voice shaking with embarrassment and something else—something darker, hungrier.

But even as she protested, her eyes were locked on my lips, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

Then, as if compelled by some unseen force, Kasumi moved closer to me. Her hand reached out, her sleeve brushing against my cheek as she wiped away the last traces of her squirt from my face. Her touch was gentle, almost tender, but her fingers trembled as she pulled back, as if realizing what she’d just done.

I watched her, my eyes dark with amusement, as she retreated, her kimono swaying with the movement. The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire.

Then, quickly, I grabbed the futon, folding it with deliberate efficiency. ”Oka-san, just sleep on my futon...” I said, my voice casual, as if nothing had happened.

”I’ll go sleep in the other room... okay?” I adjusted my futon closer to Yuko’s, which was next to mine, creating a small, intimate space for Kasumi.

Before she could protest, I continued, my tone firm but gentle. ”Just sleep... here, Oka-san...” My eyes flicked to her, and I noticed—her gaze was no longer on my face.

It was locked onto my crotch.

Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly, as she stared at the tent in my pajamas. The outline of my cock was unmistakable, thick and hard, pulsing slightly beneath the fabric. I pretended not to notice, my voice steady as I repeated her name.

”Oka-san... Oka-san...”

Kasumi blinked, her mind still foggy with the lingering haze of shame and desire. ”Hmm...?” she murmured, her voice distant, as if she were still half-caught in the memory of my lips, the taste of her own arousal on my tongue.

She tore her gaze away from my crotch, her cheeks burning crimson, but not before I saw it—that flicker of longing, that hunger she couldn’t quite suppress.

She clutched the fresh kimono Tomiko had brought, her fingers trembling as she held it to her chest. I walked out of the room, but the moment I crossed the threshold, I activated my invisibility, silently slipping back inside to watch her every move.

Kasumi didn’t notice.

Her eyes were fixed on Tomiko, who was lying peacefully, her breathing slow and steady. A soft, almost wistful expression crossed Kasumi’s face as she watched her sister sleep.

”Sister...” Kasumi whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking to herself. ”Jack really treats us so good... And even his care for you... Sometimes I think, even if there was your own son... he wouldn’t treat you so good...”

She paused, her gaze drifting toward the folded futon I had just arranged for her. ”Nowadays, who do you think... would be happy to be disturbed at night...? And look, he woke up... The first thing he did was worry about you... and even arranged his own futon for you... Tsk... Sometimes I think...” She trailed off, shaking her head as if dismissing her own thoughts. ”Forget it...”

Tomiko didn’t stir. She murmured something incoherent in her sleep, then rolled over, her breathing remaining deep and even.

Kasumi sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. [Yeah... Jack treats me like his own mother... I can’t let him down...] Her thoughts were heavy, laced with guilt and conflict. But beneath that, deeper, there was something darker, something she couldn’t ignore.

[But... why does my body still feel like this...? Why am I still... wet...?]

Then—

A drop of water fell from the kimono she was still holding, plopping onto the futon beneath her. She glanced down, her eyes widening as she realized—

Her kimono was dripping.

Not from water.

From her.

The fabric was damp, the wetness seeping through from her own body. She looked down at herself, her face burning as she saw the truth—her pussy was still wet, glistening, the dark curls of her pubic hair soaked with her arousal.

The scent of her desire was thick in the air, unmistakable, and she knew—if anyone walked in now, they would know what she had done.

Kasumi gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the wet spot forming beneath her. [Oh god... Oh no... I’m still... I’m still dripping...]Her mind raced, her body trembling as she glanced frantically toward Tomiko. But her sister was still asleep, oblivious.

With shaky, hurried movements, Kasumi moved to the wet futon I had just folded, her hands fumbling as she pulled out the sheet from beneath it.

She spread it out, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps, and pressed it between her thighs, wiping away the evidence of her shameful arousal.

[Mmm... It’s still so sensitive...] The rough texture of the sheet brushed against her swollen pussy lips, and she bit her lip hard to stifle a moan. [Why does it feel so good... even now...? I should be ashamed... I AM ashamed... But...] Her thoughts were a mess, her body betraying her even as she tried to clean herself up.