"Jack..." My name on her lips was a prayer and a warning. Her back arched slightly, pressing her breasts forward, making the damp fabric cling even tighter.
I could see the individual pores on her skin, the way her sweat made her glow like polished marble. The scent of her - jasmine and something darker, muskier - filled my senses, making my head swim.
The spoon clattered against the bowl as I set it down, my hands no longer steady. "Oka-san, you're..." My voice cracked.
The kimono left absolutely nothing to the imagination now. The once-elegant indigo silk clung to Kasumi's fevered skin like a second layer, every contour of her body outlined in shocking detail.
I could see the faint outline of her navel through the damp fabric, the way her hips flared out sensually before narrowing at her waist. The fabric between her thighs was noticeably darker, damp with something more than just sweat, clinging obscenely to the curve of her mound.
