The days slipped by, quiet and ordinary. Sayaka cooked, cleaned, hung laundry under the warm countryside sun. Yet every night, when she lay alone in her futon, the same image returned:
That thick, fat cock pulsing in the old man's hand.
No matter how much she scolded herself, no matter how hard she prayed, the memory clung to her body. Her nipples hardened when she recalled its size, her pussy dampened shamefully at the thought of how it might feel pressed against her.
She avoided Kawamoto-san whenever she could. But it was impossible to avoid the house itself, his presence, his eyes.
And then, one afternoon, it happened.
---
"Sayaka-san," Genzou said, his voice rougher than usual. He sat on the porch, wincing as he rubbed his back. "These old bones ache terribly today. Would you… give me a massage? Just on the shoulders. It hurts too much."
Sayaka hesitated. Her heart thumped wildly. She remembered what she had seen—his cock in his hand, the way he moaned her name.
But she was a tenant. He was an old man. A simple massage wasn't wrong… was it?
"Of course, Kawamoto-san," she said softly, kneeling behind him.
---
Her hands pressed gently against his shoulders. Warm, firm, careful. The old man let out a low groan of relief, his head tilting forward.
Sayaka's breasts swayed heavily inside her blouse as she leaned over him, the soft flesh brushing lightly against his back. She tried not to notice. She tried not to notice how his body tensed each time her tits pressed into him, or how her own nipples stiffened under the thin fabric.
Her hands moved lower, kneading along his back. She was close now, too close—her round ass perched on her knees, her heavy breasts almost resting on his shoulder.
Then she felt it.
A twitch. A shift.
She glanced down, horrified—and saw the thick bulge swelling in his loose pants. His cock, already half-hard, straining against the fabric, growing bigger, harder.
"Kawamoto-san…" she whispered nervously.
His hand reached down, trembling, gripping her wrist. His eyes were desperate, almost pleading.
"Sayaka… just a little… Please… Just once… I want your mouth. On it. Please."
Sayaka's heart pounded in her ears.
"That's… that's impossible! I'm married! I can't—"
But his face was twisted in need, his voice hoarse.
"Please. I'll beg you. Just once. Just your mouth. I'll never ask again."
Her chest tightened. She wanted to pull away, to run. But then her eyes betrayed her—her gaze dropped to that massive cock, now fully erect, tenting his pants.
It was… monstrous. The sheer size of it made her throat dry. Thick veins ran along its length, the swollen tip pressing hard against the fabric, leaking a wet spot.
Her body trembled. Curiosity gnawed at her, clawed at her. What would it feel like? Taste like?
She shook her head violently. "No… I can't… I shouldn't…"
But then, with a sigh that sounded like surrender, she whispered:
"…Only once. Only my mouth."
---
Her hands trembled as she pulled his waistband down.
And there it was.
His twelve-inch cock sprang free, slapping against his belly with a heavy weight. It was thick, fat veins bulging, the head red and swollen, dripping precum like nectar.
Sayaka gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"So… big…"
Her husband's cock had never been even half this. Seeing this monster up close made her thighs clench together in shameful heat.
Genzou groaned, gripping the futon under him.
"Please… just a little…"
Her hand reached out slowly, hesitantly, wrapping around the shaft. It was hot, heavy, throbbing in her palm like a living beast.
Sayaka's breath came shallow, her nipples hard under her blouse. She lowered her head, lips trembling as they brushed against the tip.
The salty taste of precum touched her tongue. She flinched—but then curiosity pushed her forward. She opened her mouth and slid the swollen head between her lips.
"Mmmph—!"
It barely fit. The sheer girth stretched her lips wide, making her jaw ache instantly. Drool spilled down her chin as she tried to take him deeper, her tongue swirling around the fat head.
Genzou groaned loudly, his hand gripping her hair.
"Ahhh… Sayaka… so warm… so good…"
Her face burned. Her pussy throbbed. Her massive tits swung heavily as she bobbed her head, struggling to fit even a fraction of the fat shaft into her mouth.
Her throat gagged, saliva dripping messily down his cock, soaking her hand as she stroked the part she couldn't swallow.
Shame consumed her. She was a wife, loyal, devoted. And yet here she was, on her knees, slobbering over another man's cock. An old man's cock.
And the worst part—the aching heat between her thighs told her she was enjoying it.
"Stop… no more…" she gasped, pulling back with a wet pop. Strings of saliva clung from her lips to his glistening cock. Her chest heaved, tits bouncing wildly as she panted.
"I… I can't… not again…"
Genzou lay back, trembling, his cock still throbbing, glistening with her spit. He wanted more. But he saw the fear, the guilt in her eyes.
So he only whispered, "Thank you, Sayaka… Thank you…"
She fled, her face burning, her thighs wet, her heart pounding with shame.
That night, she cried silently into her pillow. She told herself it had been pity, nothing more. She told herself she would never touch him again.
But as her fingers brushed her soaked panties, as she whimpered and rubbed herself to the memory of his fat cock filling her mouth, she knew the truth.
It wasn't pity. It was desire.