The first light of dawn slipped through the thin curtains, painting soft streaks across the futon where Haruto and Ayaka still lay tangled together. His arm was still curled around her, his hand resting against the curve of her bare waist. Her hair smelled faintly of sweat and skin, and her breath was steady against his chest.
But when his eyelids flickered open, he realized she wasn't asleep anymore.
Ayaka's lips brushed gently against his—soft, tentative, almost playful. A teasing kiss to coax him out of dreams. Haruto groaned low in his throat, half-asleep, before kissing her back instinctively, his morning breath mixing with hers in the most intimate of ways.
She pulled back just far enough to murmur against his lips, voice hushed and sultry.
"Good morning, Haruto… I think someone woke up before you did."
Her hand slid under the blanket, fingers brushing against the unmistakable hardness pressing against his thigh. Haruto's cock was already stiff, pulsing with the heat of morning need. His face flushed, but Ayaka only smirked as if she'd been expecting this.
Before he could speak, she slipped down, the blanket sliding off her shoulders until her naked body was half-hidden in the dim light. She kissed a trail along his chest, down his stomach, until she reached his cock, standing tall in her hand.
"Let me take care of you… before breakfast," she whispered, her voice dripping with devotion.
Her lips parted, wrapping around his tip with a warm, wet seal. Haruto gasped, his fingers gripping the futon. Ayaka's tongue swirled, teasing every ridge, before she slid deeper, taking him into her throat with slow, steady strokes.
The morning was quiet except for the wet sounds of her mouth working on him, the slick suction growing louder as she bobbed her head. Haruto's breathing grew ragged, his hand tangling in her hair as pleasure swelled inside him.
"Ayaka… I'm close…" he panted, his hips twitching.
She only hummed around him, the vibration shooting straight through his cock, her eyes glimmering as she urged him on. And then, with one final deep swallow, he came—hot and thick into her mouth. Ayaka didn't flinch, didn't pull away; instead, she swallowed every drop, her throat moving as she took him down completely.
When she finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva glistened between her lips and his cock. She licked it clean with a playful smile, then leaned up to kiss him again—this time letting him taste the faint saltiness of himself on her tongue.
"Now…" she said with a mischievous grin, brushing her hair aside, "I'll make breakfast. But don't go anywhere. You'll want to see how I'm dressed for the kitchen."
With that, she rose from the futon, her naked form glowing in the morning light, only to slip into the small apron hanging on the wall. It barely covered her—her breasts swelled out from the sides, her ass exposed entirely as the bow tied behind her waist. She gave him one final teasing glance over her shoulder before walking off toward the stove.
Haruto lay back, still catching his breath, his cock twitching again at the sight. He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath.
"This morning's already heaven…"
The smell of miso and freshly steaming rice drifted through the small kitchen, but Haruto couldn't focus on the food. His eyes were locked on Ayaka.
She moved with such casual ease, like she truly belonged here—his kitchen, his morning, his life. But her outfit… no, her lack of one made every second unbearable.
The little apron hugged her waist, but that was all. From the side, her breasts peeked out shamelessly, bouncing softly whenever she reached across the counter. When she bent forward to taste the broth, her ass jutted out—round, bare, and swaying with every movement.
Haruto sat at the low dining table, still completely naked, his chin propped on his palm. His eyes followed every shift of her hips, every flash of soft skin. His cock twitched again, slowly waking back to life after the blowjob, and he groaned under his breath.
"Damn it, Ayaka… you're trying to kill me first thing in the morning."
She glanced back at him over her shoulder, spoon still in her hand, lips curling into a smirk. "Kill you? No. Feed you, maybe… in more ways than one."
She tasted the miso again, then deliberately bent lower, giving him a full view of the creamy curves of her ass peeking under the apron's hem. The bow of the apron swayed with the motion, as if teasing him too.
Haruto's voice came out rough, hungry. "You're doing this on purpose."
Ayaka giggled softly, dipping the ladle into the pot and setting it aside. She turned, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed under her breasts so they pressed together, spilling out over the apron's edge.
"Of course I am. How could I resist? You're watching me with those eyes… it makes me want to tease you more."
She tilted her head, licking a stray droplet of soup from her finger in slow, deliberate fashion. The simple act was sinful, more enticing than anything he'd ever seen in his life.
Haruto swallowed hard, his cock stiffening against his thigh. "Ayaka…"
"Mhm?" she hummed, her eyes glinting with playful mischief as she walked over, hips swaying like a pendulum, apron fluttering lightly around her thighs. She placed a steaming bowl of rice and fish down in front of him, then leaned forward, close enough that her breasts grazed against his bare shoulder.
"Eat up, Haruto. You'll need your strength." She whispered the last word against his ear, her warm breath sending a shiver through him.
Haruto stared at the bowl, then back up at her, his lips curving into a dangerous grin. "If you keep serving it like this, I don't know if I'll even make it to breakfast."
Ayaka only kissed the top of his head, then walked back to the stove, her naked backside swaying as though she wanted him to suffer a little longer.
Haruto picked up his chopsticks, forcing himself to look at the steaming rice and fish instead of the sinful sight of Ayaka moving around the kitchen. He shoved a bite into his mouth, chewing slowly, hoping the routine of eating would ground him.
But it was impossible.
Every step she took, the apron shifted, riding higher to reveal the curve of her thighs, or loosening just enough for the swell of her breasts to peek out. The kitchen had become a stage, and Ayaka knew she had an audience.
"You're quiet, Haruto." Her voice was honey-sweet as she brought another plate to the table. She leaned just a little too far across him to set it down, her nipple nearly brushing his cheek through the side gap of her apron. "Is the food not good?"
Haruto clenched his jaw, willing himself not to look. "It's… perfect. Delicious."
"Mmm. Then why do you look so tense?"
She sat down across from him, one knee brushing his under the table. Her eyes glittered as she picked up her own chopsticks, daintily taking a bite while never breaking eye contact. Each slow chew of her lips was suggestive, and she knew it.
Haruto tried to focus on his food, but his cock pulsed harder with every stolen glance of her body. The apron hid nothing. When she leaned forward slightly to blow on her soup, he caught a full view of her breasts swaying free beneath the loose fabric.
"Haruto…" she murmured, tilting her head as though in thought. Then, without warning, she let her chopsticks fall, clattering softly on the table. "Oops."
She leaned down to pick them up. Slowly. Painfully slowly.
From his angle, Haruto had a perfect view beneath the apron as the fabric shifted. Her thighs parted just slightly, her bare pussy flashing at him for a teasing heartbeat before she sat back up as if nothing had happened.
She smiled sweetly, as though she hadn't just driven a dagger of lust straight into his gut. "Clumsy me."
Haruto set his chopsticks down, his appetite for food completely gone. He leaned back in his seat, staring at her with narrowed eyes, voice dropping low. "Ayaka… you're playing with fire."
Her smile widened. She crossed her legs under the table, brushing her foot up along his calf. "Maybe I want to get burned."
The room grew hotter, the tension thick enough to choke on. Breakfast sat between them, untouched, both of them knowing this meal was about to end very differently than it had started.
The chopsticks were abandoned. The bowls of rice sat cooling, forgotten. What heated the kitchen now wasn't steam from the miso soup but the molten tension between Haruto and Ayaka.
Her eyes locked onto him—bold, unblinking—as if daring him to break first. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned back in her chair, hands sliding to the edge of the apron.
"Haruto," she whispered, her voice a low purr. "I think breakfast is missing something sweet."
She let the apron part.
Fabric fell away to reveal her naked body in its full glory, breasts spilling free as she spread her legs wide beneath the table. Her pussy glistened in the morning light, dew gathered at her folds from the teasing and tension she had been building. She tilted her hips forward, shameless, as if she were presenting a royal offering.
"Want some dessert… now?"
Haruto's restraint shattered.
The chair screeched across the floor as he pushed back, dropping to his knees between her thighs without a second thought. His hands slid up her bare legs, spreading them wider over the table's edge until she was open completely for him.
Ayaka gasped as his mouth descended.
His tongue parted her folds immediately, hot and hungry, lapping at her dripping slit. She arched back, one hand flying to grip the edge of the table while the other tangled in his hair.
"Ah—H-Haruto…! Mmm, yes…" Her thighs trembled as he dragged his tongue upward in slow, wet strokes, teasing her swollen clit with the tip before sucking it into his mouth.
Her juices coated his tongue, salty and sweet, dripping freely as though her body had been waiting for this moment. He devoured her, burying his face so deep that the sounds of his slurping echoed obscenely in the quiet kitchen.
Ayaka threw her head back, breasts bouncing as she moaned loudly, not caring who might hear. "Yes! Oh god, don't stop—eat me, eat me more—!"
He growled into her, the vibration making her shudder violently. His hands squeezed her thighs apart, holding her in place as he tongue-fucked her pussy, sliding deep and curling inside her tight heat before retreating to lick her clit again.
The table shook as her hips bucked uncontrollably. Plates rattled. Soup nearly spilled.
"Haruto—ahhh—my pussy… you're making a mess of me—!" she cried, her voice breaking into breathless whimpers.
Her orgasm built quickly, her body quivering, thighs squeezing around his head as if to lock him there forever. She pressed him deeper into her soaked cunt, grinding against his mouth desperately.
Her moans peaked into a high, keening cry as she climaxed hard, squirting against his tongue, her juices spilling down his chin and dripping onto the floor.
"AHHH—H-HARUTO!"
Her whole body shook with the force of it, breasts bouncing wildly, nipples hard as rocks. She slumped back into her chair, panting, hair sticking to her flushed face.
Haruto pulled back just enough to catch his breath, licking her nectar from his lips with a feral grin. "Best dessert I've ever had."
Ayaka giggled breathlessly, her chest still heaving, then reached out with trembling fingers to pull him up by the hair. She pressed her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue as their kiss deepened, messy and wet.
Her body pressed against his as her arms wrapped around his neck, apron hanging loose and forgotten. Her breasts squashed against his bare chest, her nipples dragging across his skin. She whispered between kisses, voice husky and full of fire:
"Haruto… you'll never escape me now."
The morning sun lit them in a golden glow, their bodies tangled in hunger and intimacy, a quiet moment of bliss before chaos would soon come crashing through their door.