Mira's gaze lingered on Eren. He faced toward the window, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths. The faint traces of sun light washed over his skin, outlining the shape of his shoulders and the faint tremble in his frame.
Her own breathing felt heavier. She raised her hand—the same hand that had just collected the thick, white liquid—and brought it closer to her face. She inhaled.
The scent was faint, but distinct. It carried a damp, earthy undertone, almost like the smell after rain hits dry soil, mingled with something richer, more intoxicating—something that tugged at her in ways she didn't want to admit.
Her tongue moved against the inside of her mouth, tasting the ghost of it still lingering there. The memory of the flavor made a shiver race down her thighs. She could still feel the warmth of it coating her tongue earlier, that strange combination of saltiness and sweetness that was entirely new to her.
Her eyes drifted downward to the source of that sensation.
It lay against his thigh now, calmer than before but not completely at rest. Even in its semi-relaxed state, it seemed more imposing than the glimpse she'd caught a few days ago. The skin along it was stretched, veins pushing against the surface, and its girth still made her heart pound with something she couldn't quite name.
Her hands pressed against the bedding as she slowly crawled toward it.
Her heartbeat quickened, thudding in her ears as she leaned in. Her face hovered just above him now. Her breath fanned over the length, and she swore she felt it twitch in response. Eren's breath caught sharply. He opened his eyes and looked down—only to find her dangerously close, far too close.
The moment their eyes met, his shaft gave a sudden pulse, the head rising just enough to brush against the tip of her nose. Mira didn't flinch. She didn't recoil.
Instead, she inhaled deeply, taking in that scent again, letting it fill her lungs before her gaze lifted to his.
Eren wore an awkward smile, somewhere between embarrassment and disbelief. "This—" he began, but before he could finish, Mira moved.
She grasped him at the base, angling him upright. Then, opening her mouth, she leaned forward. The sound of saliva pooling in her mouth was loud in the quiet room. She extended her tongue, showing the glossy sheen of fluid she had gathered before letting it spill down in a slow, deliberate stream over the head. The saliva dripped, sliding along the shaft until it reached the base, glistening over every ridge and vein.
Eren sucked in a sharp breath. Mira used her fingertips to guide the warm slickness along him, stroking in slow, measured motions before looking back at him with a calm, almost innocent expression.
"Doesn't it need to be done again?" she asked softly. "It almost went back to normal, but now… it's like this again."
Her other hand joined the first, fingers curling firmly around the base as she stroked upward, stopping halfway before sliding back down.
Eren trembled under her touch. Mira had begun to understand something—how to make him react. Each twitch, each faint sound he made, each drawn-out breath… it was as if she'd discovered a key to unlocking a part of him no one else had touched. And though she told herself this was for his sake, she couldn't deny the truth—she was enthralled.
The way it felt in her hands, the warmth radiating from it, the slight weight when it rested against her palm—she could feel herself being drawn deeper into the moment. It wasn't just about helping him anymore. The act itself was intoxicating.
It gave her something—an odd rush, a surge of satisfaction—every time it twitched in her grasp or leaked that faint, clear liquid. She found herself stroking faster, more deliberately, wanting to draw out more of that reaction.
Eren's breathing grew harsher. His thighs tensed. But minutes passed, and still nothing like before emerged. Only the thin, transparent fluid continued to seep out in small beads.
Mira's arms began to ache, her fingers tightening around the veins pulsing under her grip. She flicked the tip with her tongue, tasting the faint trace of salt, but what she waited for—the warm rush from earlier—never came.
She slowed, disappointment softening her expression.
Eren, catching his breath, looked down at her. "Aunt Mira…" he began gently. "Even though I want it, I don't think it'll happen this way."
She paused, tilting her head at him in puzzlement. "Then… how?"
A faint blush crossed his face as he scratched his hair awkwardly. "I'm sorry to say this, but…" He hesitated.
"But?" she urged, her grip still firm around him, feeling another faint twitch beneath her fingers.
"You'll need… more stimulation. And more lubrication. For it to… spray again." His voice faltered at the last words.
Mira frowned slightly, thinking. "More lubricant?" Her lips closed, then moved in a peculiar way, her mouth producing a loud, wet sound as she swirled her tongue to gather more saliva. Without waiting, she leaned over and let it pour from her lips, coating him from tip to base in a thick sheen that dripped past his sac and onto the futon below.
The cloth darkened beneath them as the liquid spread, soaking in.
Eren blinked, momentarily thrown off, then tried to explain, "No, not just that. I mean… you'd have to use your mouth."
She looked at him blankly. "My mouth? I'm already using it to make saliva." The genuine curiosity in her tone made her seem almost childlike—like she was examining a strange new toy she had only begun to understand.
"Not like that," Eren said. "Come here." He gestured for her to move beside him.
She obeyed, standing and then kneeling again right at his side, facing his length. Her eyes searched his face for the next instruction.
"Lower your head," he said.
Confused, she did as told, leaning toward his chest. Eren placed a hand on her head, guiding her slowly downward. "Now… follow where I take you."
Her face was now level with the head of his shaft. At his quiet instruction—"Open your mouth"—she parted her lips. His hand pressed lightly at the back of her head, urging her forward until the tip slid past her lips. Warm skin met the heat of her mouth, and then her tongue, and then—
He pushed deeper. The length slid over her tongue, toward the back of her throat. Mira gagged, pulling back instantly, coughing lightly.
Eren's hand withdrew. "Are you okay?"
She pressed her fingers to her throat, catching her breath. "Yes… I'm fine." Then, after a pause, she asked with genuine interest, "Is that all I have to do?"
He nodded.
Mira adjusted her position. This time, she moved beside him on the futon, coaxing him to lie back. She settled between his legs, her hair falling forward as she bent over him.
It's just until he finishes, she told herself. Just for him.
But deep down, she knew it wasn't only for him anymore. She wanted to feel it too.
She leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip before parting her lips wider, taking him in. The head slipped past her tongue, then the thick shaft filled her mouth, her throat tightening instinctively as she pushed further. She swallowed around him, letting her tongue trace the underside as she eased him deeper.
The sensation was overwhelming—the warmth, the weight, the faint, musky taste flooding her senses. The scent filled her nose, reached her lungs, sank into her chest. Her mouth watered uncontrollably. Saliva pooled and slid down, coating him completely before dripping onto the futon.
She began to move, her lips gliding over his skin, her tongue stroking in time with her bobbing head. Each pass drew more saliva, more wet sounds, more tension in his body. Her own body responded without permission—her hips shifting, thighs pressing together, heat blooming low in her belly pressing down, the futon beneath her dampening with her own arousal.
A finger wandered down from her waist, slipping lower. She barely noticed when it did.
Eren's hands gripped the bedding, knuckles white, his breath ragged as Mira worked him with steady, unrelenting rhythm. The futon beneath them was already drenched, but neither of them cared.