The next morning, Sayaka could barely meet Kawamoto Genzou's eyes.
When she placed his breakfast tray on the table, her hand trembled. Her cheeks burned when she caught a glimpse of his lap, as if the monstrous cock she had slobbered on the day before still lurked there, heavy and waiting.
She bowed quickly, retreating. "I'll… clean the garden today."
Her voice cracked. She couldn't stop replaying the memory—the salty taste of his cock, the way her jaw had ached as she tried to swallow him, the hot pulse of blood that throbbed against her tongue.
Her thighs pressed together just thinking about it.
---
During the day, she threw herself into chores.
She knelt to scrub the wooden floors, her massive breasts jiggling wildly under her blouse, nipples still tender from rubbing against the fabric all night. Every time she bent forward, she felt the memory of his cockhead bumping her lips.
She washed the laundry, her skirt clinging damply to her fat wife-ass, thighs quivering with each step. The sun warmed her body, but inside she felt cold—cold with guilt.
I'm a married woman… what I did was unforgivable…
Yet every time she remembered how heavy that shaft had been in her palm, her pussy ached with shameful need.
---
Genzou watched her quietly. He said nothing, but he noticed the way she avoided his gaze, the way her huge tits heaved faster when she leaned too close, the way she seemed restless.
He knew.
And that night, as he lay stroking his cock to the memory of her lips around him, he thought: She'll come back to me. Her body wants it already.
---
But Sayaka told herself she would resist.
She took her bath late, alone, the steam filling the wooden room. She sat on the stool, water dripping down her pale skin, her enormous breasts heavy and wet, nipples red and swollen. She rubbed soap across her chest, groaning softly at how sensitive she felt.
When her hand slipped lower, between her thighs, she froze.
"No… I mustn't…"
But her pussy was already slick. Her fingers pressed against her slit, and a whimper escaped her lips. She imagined it again—his fat cock, so thick it barely fit in her mouth. She imagined it splitting her wide open, stretching her walls until she screamed.
"Mmmhh—ahh…"
Her hips bucked against her fingers. Her huge tits swung and slapped against her chest, soap sliding over them as she pumped her fingers faster.
She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning too loud. What if he heard? What if he came to check?
The thought made her clench harder, her orgasm slamming into her as she gasped and squirted faintly onto the wet floor.
She collapsed forward, chest heaving, sweat and bathwater dripping from her trembling body.
Tears welled in her eyes.
I'm the worst wife… the worst…
But her pussy still pulsed, still wanted more.
---
The following days were torture.
Sayaka avoided Genzou as much as she could. She served him food silently, cleaned without looking at him, kept her distance.
But her body betrayed her.
When she bent over to wipe the floor, she felt her ass sticking up toward him, the skirt lifting high. When she leaned forward to serve tea, her blouse gaped open, her giant breasts jiggling freely.
She saw his eyes flicker. She felt his gaze crawling across her body. And instead of disgust, her heart raced, her pussy clenched.
Each night, she masturbated again. She told herself it was the last time, but the moment her fingers touched her swollen clit, the image of his cock filled her mind again.
By the third night, she didn't even fight it. She spread her legs wide on the futon, moaning softly into her pillow as she shoved two fingers deep inside herself, whispering under her breath:
"So… big… ahh… Kawamoto-san…"
She came harder than she ever had with her husband.
And the guilt in the morning only made her wetter.
---
One evening, while Sayaka folded laundry, she caught him staring openly at her tits swaying under her blouse. Their eyes met. She gasped, clutching the clothes to her chest, turning away quickly.
But her nipples had already gone stiff.
Her body was betraying her.
And Genzou knew it.
---
That night, she lay awake, panting softly in the darkness. She pressed her thighs together, but the ache wouldn't go away. Her panties were already damp.
I can't… I can't let him touch me again…
And yet, her hand slid down anyway, slipping under the waistband, her fingers finding her wet slit.
Her body shook with every stroke, her tits bouncing wildly as she arched her back. Her pussy clenched around her fingers as she cried into her pillow.
She thought of him on top of her. She thought of that cock sliding between her tits, splitting her open.
She came with a muffled scream.
And as she collapsed, sweaty and trembling, her last thought before sleep was not of her husband.
It was of Kawamoto Genzou, and the way his cock would feel inside her for the first time.