The night air on the bridge was steamy, heavy with the unspoken tension that had been brewing between them. Kazuya was just standing there, mentally composing his thousandth internal monologue about how perfect she was, when Chizuru, the woman of his dreams, decided to flip the script entirely. He wasn’t expecting what she just tossed.
Before he could even reply, she’s lowered herself onto the pavement. It was a move smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy. Her fingers made quick work of his belt. Her technique way more advanced than any dating simulator had prepared him for. Kazuya found himself in a scenario where he would usually beat off.
When he finally tipped over the edge, he unleashed the finishing move : A facial. For once, the queen of composure was speechless, a sticky, glossy masterpiece of the night’s unexpected turn.
