Makoto gently pulled down Yuna's pajama pants, smiling softly. "Don't worry. You can just let it go, Yuna. I can help Ayane wash the sheets later." He blew gently on her clit and urethra, delivering the finishing move.
For Yuna, the world dissolved into a single overwhelming point of sensation. The cool puff of air on her clit was completely alien and impossibly intimate.
It wasn't painful or even ticklish anymore. It was something else entirely, a direct line to her nervous system that bypassed all her defenses. Her body seized up. A sound that was neither scream nor laugh but a raw, animalistic cry of pure release tore from her throat.
Then she let go.
A hot, gushing flood erupted from her, soaking her, the futon, and his hand. It was messy, humiliating, and completely unrestrained. Mixed with the flood of pee was the slick wetness of a frantic, shattered orgasm. Her inner walls clenched and pulsed in weak, overwhelmed spasms.
In the stunned silence that followed, the only sounds were Yuna's ragged, hiccuping sobs and the soft click of Ayane's phone camera.
"Oh my god," Ayane whispered, her voice mixing awe with gleeful horror as she stared at her phone screen. "The look on her face... This is going straight into my private collection."
Mika finally released Yuna's ankles. She looked down at the spreading puddle, then at Yuna's trembling form, and a small, satisfied smile graced her lips. "Well," she said softly. "I suppose she's talking to us now."
Makoto caressed Yuna's body tenderly. "Well, that was fun." He pulled the blanket up to cover her, grinning wickedly. "I guess we'll need to continue our sleep on the couch then."
He grunted and looked at Ayane lewdly. "But... someone hasn't had her turn tonight yet."
Ayane lowered her phone, a slow grin spreading across her face. The screen went dark, preserving its precious cargo for later.
"My turn?" she repeated in a throaty purr that vibrated through the quiet room. She looked him up and down hungrily. "Honey, you just ran a marathon and a half. Are you sure you're ready for the main event?"
Ayane didn't wait for an answer. With predatory grace, she unfolded herself and padded over to the couch.
She stretched out on the cushions, showing off her voluptuous body in the dim light. Propping her head with one hand, she was the picture of casual seduction. "The couch is a little small," she said invitingly. "I guess you'll have to be on top."
A muffled, defeated sound came from the blanket-lump on the futon. "...fucking animals..." Yuna's voice was a broken whisper of pure shame.
Mika, watching this exchange, gave his arm an encouraging pat. "It's fair," she whispered happily. "She's been very patient."
Makoto climbed on top of Ayane on the couch. "You act like you're experienced, Miss Weeb Nerd."
He smirked wickedly. "But I know your weaknesses and your kinks, so..." He turned to Mika with a triumphant grin. "You can take out your phone and start recording her, please. Let's see if she can keep her composure."
Genuine surprise flashed in Ayane's eyes, quickly followed by dark excitement. The confident smile faltered for just a second. "Recording?" she repeated shakily.
Mika needed no further encouragement. With a delighted "Ooh," she retrieved her phone from the floor. The screen illuminated her face in pale, ethereal light. She gave him a thumbs-up. "I'm ready when you are."
Ayane watched the phone, her throat working. Her bravado vanished, replaced by desperate vulnerability. "Fine," she breathed, voice cracking. "You can record everything." She met his gaze with blazing defiance.
"But I'm warning you," she whispered sweetly. "If you make me look bad, I'll just have to leak that video of Yuna wetting the bed."
A new, horrified sound came from the futon.
Makoto smirked. "Well, well, let's see if what I've learned from your secret doujinshi stack will work." He didn't rush to touch her yet. He just rubbed her hair gently. "You look beautiful, my love. Your eyes are shining like stars."
Ayane froze. This wasn't what she'd expected. She'd been prepared for rough dominance, for punishment, not this. A deep, furious blush spread from her neck to the tips of her ears. "S-Shut up," she stammered, completely devoid of her usual seductive purr. "Don't say stupid romantic shit like that."
But her body betrayed her completely. She melted under his touch, sighing contentedly. His hands moved down to massage her breasts slowly. "And those soft, thicc, giant boobas. A man would die for them. I can't believe how fortunate I am..." Her eyes, which had blazed with defiant challenge, softened and fluttered shut as he massaged her breasts.
A shiver ran through her. "They're not that big," she mumbled weakly. "They're just average."
Mika giggled from her position as camerawoman. "Is this your new strategy, Makoto?" she whispered with amusement. "Makoto used Sincere Compliment Attack. It's surprisingly effective." The red record light on her phone was a steady, unblinking eye.
Makoto turned to kiss Mika's lips and her cheeks gently. "Don't comment on it like it's a Pokémon battle, Mika."
He chuckled and turned back to Ayane. "So tell me. When did you start realizing you had feelings for me, my love?" His eyes sparkled mischievously. "And when did those feelings turn to lust?"
Ayane's breath hitched sharply. She tried to turn her head to hide her vulnerable expression, but he held her face gently in place.
"I don't know," she whispered, confessing against his lips. "It was slow. A long time ago."
She took a shuddering breath. "It was just little things. The way you'd get so excited about a new manga volume. The way you always remembered what kind of coffee I liked. That time you walked me home in the rain and gave me your jacket, even though you got soaked."
A single tear escaped, tracing down her cheek. "I just liked being around you," she admitted in a choked whisper. "You made me feel safe and happy, Makoto."
"And the lust..." A slow, wicked smile spread across her face, the old, confident Ayane returning briefly. "That was always there," she purred dangerously.