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.
