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The room was filled with sound—

wet, ssy.

Every ti Haruki thrust into her, the air vibrated with the slick rhythm of her soaked pussy—his penis sliding in and out, thick and steady, stretching her again and again.

And then—

The slapping of skin to skin, the low, rhythmic smack as his hips t hers, made it impossible for her to ignore what was happening.

Her pussy...

It wasn’t just reacting.

It was pulling him in, clinging to his penis with every deep motion—like it needed him to keep moving.

Don’t stop.

Please, don’t stop.

And then—he hit it again.

That spot.

That impossible, perfect place deep inside her.

Kyouko’s mouth fell open, but no sound ca at first—

just a sharp gasp, her back arching as if her entire body snapped taut.

"A-Ah—Haruki—!!"

Her legs trembled. Her hands clutched his shoulders.

He kept hitting it. Again. And again.

Her body couldn’t take it.

Her mind blurred into white noise—

her vision flashed.

The pressure built up fast, too fast—

and then it broke.

Her hips jerked violently. Her thighs clenched tight.

"H-Haru—Ki—Ahhh—!!"

A hot, sudden release burst from deep inside her, uncontrollable, flooding between them as her body squirted in a wet rush, her inner walls contracting hard around his penis.

Kyouko cried out, voice caught in her throat, as her orgasm tore through her like a storm—hard, breathless, and blinding.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Her body shook.

Haruki felt it the mont it happened.

The sudden clench of her inner walls—tighter than before, as if her body was begging him not to pull out.

And then—

A burst.

Warm. Wet. raw.

Her release shot against his penis, coating his skin, his breath catching as he felt her body break apart underneath him.

She’s...

She squirted.

Because of him.

His hands gripped her hips instinctively—not to hold her down,

but because her trembling, her cry, her soaked body—

It made his chest feel like it was on fire.

His length pulsed hard inside her, still buried in the tight, wet warmth that refused to let him go.

But what truly made his heart pound wasn’t just the heat around him.

It was her.

Kyouko.

The way she cried his na.

The way her body arched for him, begged for him.

The way her thighs trembled, completely wrecked by what he gave her.

No one else had ever made her like this.

No one else could.

She was beautiful like this.

Unraveled. Wet. Full of him.

And he loved it.

He wanted more.

Not just of her body—

But of this version of her.

The woman who ca undone because of him.

The woman who, in this mont, belonged only to him.

Oh yes.

This was it.

This was Kyouko.

Her face flushed, eyes hazy, lips parted in helpless moans—

That gentle, quiet woman now gasping beneath him, trembling as her body squirted around his length, soaking everything between them.

And yet—

Still elegant.

Still serene in her own way.

Even now, as her body shook with raw release, she wasn’t vulgar.

She wasn’t wild.

She was just... Kyouko.

Beautiful.

Shy.

Gentle.

But completely his.

And that made her reactions even more intoxicating.

The way her voice cracked with pleasure, the way she tried to suppress her moans but failed—he loved it.

Not just the feeling—though, God, the feeling was perfect.

Her tightness, the heat, the slippery wetness around him—it felt delicious.

But it was her reaction that made his pulse race.

The little gasps.

The broken, breathless "Haruki..." whispered in surrender.

The way her body refused to lie—it wanted him.

And her eyes... they didn’t know how to lie either.

He looked down at her, body still twitching beneath him, thighs still trembling from the aftershock.

And all he could think was—

ƒгeewebnovёl

This is mine.

This is the version of her only I get to see.

And he never wanted it to end.

Haruki leaned down, lips crashing into hers with hungry desperation—a deep, possessive kiss that left no space for air or words.

His hips began to move again.

Slow at first.

Then deeper.

Then faster.

He wanted more—

More of her sweet, trembling voice.

More of that helpless, fluttering reaction when he pushed against her deepest spot.

But he didn’t want to just hear it this ti—

He wanted to feel it.

He kept his mouth on hers, swallowing every gasp, every moan, every broken whimper as his hips thrust forward again and again—chasing that mont.

And Kyouko—

She tried to hold on.

Tried to breathe.

But with his tongue tangled in hers, his body overwhelming her, her control shattered.

Her moan burst into his mouth—soft, shaking, pleading.

Her fingers dug into his back, her legs tightening around his waist.

The pressure inside her built too fast—

That deep, delicious friction scraping against her sensitive spot over and over—

And then—

"Mmmn—!!"

She ca.

Again.

Harder.

Her entire body arched into him as her core convulsed, pulsing around his thick length, soaking him once more as her release spilled between them.

All the while, they were still kissing.

Still connected.

Haruki felt every spasm, every desperate squeeze around him.

And as her climax rocked through her again—wet, intense, wild—

He held her tighter.

Because this was what he lived for.

Her soft body.

Her moaning mouth.

Her orgasm, wrapped around him.

And the taste of her voice, muffled in their kiss.

Kyouko.

The na echoed in Haruki’s mind like a whispered prayer.

The beautiful, shy woman he once admired from afar—

now beneath him, naked, trembling, soaked with release—and completely his.

Her skin was soft—too perfect, too smooth to belong to a woman her age.

No blemishes. No lines.

Just flawless warmth.

Like she was in her early twenties.

No—better than that.

Because she had sothing no girl ever did.

Grace.

Elegance.

And that sweet, shy gentleness woven into everything she did.

The way she cooked with quiet care.

The way she smiled at him when no one was looking.

And the way she now looked at him during sex—half-embarrassed, half-desperate, like he was the only man who had truly touched her.

She was perfect.

Her body. Her softness. Her moans.

Her wet, tight core that welcod him again and again.

The way she whispered his na like a secret.

And the fact that he—only he—got to see this side of her.

Only him.

Kyouko.

Beautiful.

Gentle.

Delicious.

Kyouko is mine.

Haruki’s thoughts scread it with every thrust.

Mine.

Every part of her.

Her soft skin, her tight heat, her trembling moans—

All mine.

He kissed her harder, his hips moving with a wild, desperate rhythm—rougher, deeper, faster—like he was carving himself into her soul.

Beneath him, Kyouko’s body bucked—her back arching, her breath caught in her throat.

And then she broke.

Again.

Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her arms clinging to him as her climax hit hard—uncontrollable, electric, overwhelming.

She didn’t know what she was thinking anymore.

Couldn’t speak.

Her mind spun with only a few broken, crashing thoughts—

Delicious.

Perfect.

Big.

Strong.

The stretch.

The force.

The friction.

It made her weak.

It made her co.

Again.

And again.

And again.

She didn’t care anymore.

Everything belonged to him.

Her voice. Her body. Her sanity.

Now and forever.

( End Of Chapter )

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