Mitsuki Bakugo opened the door to her house at 7:15 PM. The smell of burnt charcoal still floated in the air.
Damn brat, she thought, leaving her gym bag at the entrance.
The kitchen was still a mess despite Katsuki cleaning it. Black marks covered the wall like scars. The linoleum floor showed two specific spots where it had completely melted, forming dark bubbles in the material. The table that had been in the family for years now looked charred at the corners, the varnish turned to ash.
"I am home, damn brat!" she shouted toward the upper floor, trying to regain her authoritative and rough tone of voice.
"Who are you calling a brat, old hag! Do not bother me, I am finishing cleaning the damn kitchen!" the raspy voice of Katsuki responded from the end of the hallway.
Mitsuki smiled involuntarily. Her son was a little explosive bastard, but at least he had guts.
She climbed the stairs toward her room. Each step was a silent torture.
Because with every movement, she felt the dampness.
It was still there. Between her legs. Soaking the sports boxers she had used to play volleyball. The liquid from two orgasms that she had not even been able to control completely.
What the hell happened to me?, she thought, clenching her teeth as she climbed another step.
The fabric of the boxers rubbed against her folds with every step. A constant friction that kept her sensitivity at dangerous levels. She could feel how her underwear stuck to her skin, slippery from her own fluids.
She reached her room and locked the door. She leaned against it, breathing deeply.
Her reflection in the closet mirror greeted her. Disheveled blonde hair escaping from the ponytail. Red face. Sweat on her forehead and neck. Sports shirt clinging to her body.
And her nipples.
They were still erect. Pressing against the sports top. Visible through the loose shirt.
Shit, she thought, crossing her arms over her chest instinctively.
It had been too long since the last time her body had reacted like this. Months of boring routine working in fashion design. Weeks without real exercise. Her life had become predictable and sedentary.
But two hours of volleyball had awakened something that had been dormant.
I need a shower, she decided. Immediately.
She began to undress. She took off her sneakers, letting them drop to the floor. Socks damp with sweat ended up next to them. Then she grabbed the hem of her sports shirt and pulled it upward, feeling how it peeled away from her sweaty skin before flying toward the laundry basket.
The sports top was more difficult. It was stuck to her skin by sweat and glycerin. She had to pull hard. When she finally took it off, her breasts bounced slightly.
Her nipples were still hard. Pink and erect.
She took off her shorts. The sports boxers were the last thing. When she pulled them down, she felt how the dried liquid stuck slightly to her folds.
She left all the clothes in the basket. She grabbed a towel and walked naked toward the private bathroom in her room.
The hot water took thirty seconds to come out. When it did, steam began to fill the bathroom immediately.
Mitsuki entered the shower. The hot water hit her skin.
"Ahh..." she moaned.
The water reacted with the glycerin from her Quirk in a way she knew well.
Her skin became incredibly slippery. The water ran down every curve of her body with a supernatural smoothness.
And every drop felt amplified.
The stream of the shower hit her shoulders. It went down her back. It slid between her breasts. Every drop was a small but constant stimulation.
She tried to focus on washing herself. She reached for the soap. She rubbed it on her arms.
But her hands were slipping. The glycerin mixed with the soap created a perfect lubrication. Her own fingers slid over her skin.
She closed her eyes to rinse her hair.
It is because I exercised too much after months of inactivity, she thought. My body is just reacting.
Her hands moved automatically while she thought. Washing her neck. Her shoulders. Going down toward her breasts.
And when her fingers brushed her nipples
"Ngh..." she moaned, biting her lip.
Every touch sent electricity directly to her lower belly. The nerve endings were hypersensitive.
Her fingers began to work the nipple. First pinching it. Then pulling gently. Finally rolling it between her fingers, which were slippery from the glycerin.
"Mmmh..." escaped her lips.
But she stopped abruptly.
Not here, she thought. Finish bathing first.
She quickly washed the rest of her body. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in the towel.
But even the soft fabric against her skin was too much. Her entire body was vibrating.
She dried her hair with the towel. She put on a light nightgown that she normally used for sleeping. Just soft cotton that reached the middle of her thigh.
When the fabric brushed her nipples, she had to bite her lip.
She walked toward her bed. She sat on the edge. Her hands were shaking slightly.
It had been too long. That was all. Her body had been on automatic mode for months and now it was waking up with all the accumulated force.
Her fingers moved toward the hem of the nightgown. Lifting it slowly.
She opened her legs.
And when her fingers touched her folds, she discovered she was still wet.
Soaked, in fact.
She looked toward her vanity where she kept her toys. Masaru knew about them. They had even bought them together on a trip to Tokyo years ago.
But this time her gaze fell on her comb. The one with a long and smooth handle that she used to brush her hair when she wore it down.
She reached for it with a trembling hand.
The handle was perfect. Thick enough. Long enough. And smooth from the constant glycerin on her hands.
She lay back on the bed. She pulled the nightgown up to her waist. She opened her legs completely.
She slid the handle of the comb between her folds.
"Ahhh..." she moaned.
The glycerin from her skin had covered the handle. It slid inside with supernatural ease. Filling her completely.
She began to move the comb. In. Out. A slow rhythm at first.
Schlick... schlick... schlick...
The wet sound filled the room. Her own fluids made every movement obscenely audible.
Her free fingers found her clitoris. She rubbed it in circles while the handle of the comb filled her.
She closed her eyes. She tried to empty her mind completely. She just wanted this feeling of accumulated need to go away. For her body to stop vibrating with this uncomfortable energy.
Her hand accelerated the pace of the comb. Her hips moved on their own, meeting every thrust.
Schlick schlick schlick schlick
The glycerin made everything so slippery. The handle of the comb went in and out producing sounds that were increasingly obscene.
"Ngh... ah... mmmh..." she moaned.
Her free hand went up toward her chest. She pinched her nipple hard.
"Ahh... shit..."
The sensation exploded throughout her body.
She was close. Very close. She could feel the tension building in her lower belly. Her thighs were shaking.
Plap plap plap plap
The sound of her hips moving, of the comb entering and exiting, of her fluids leaking out.
The comb moved faster. Her fingers rubbed her clitoris with perfect pressure.
Her mind was blank. Only the sensations existed. The filling. The friction. The building heat.
She pushed the comb deeper. She rubbed her clitoris faster. She pinched her nipple until it hurt.
And finally, the orgasm hit her.
"AHHH... MMMH..."
Her body arched off the bed. Her thighs closed around her hand. A long moan escaped her lips.
Splash splash splash
The liquid came out of her, soaking the handle of the comb, her fingers, the sheets underneath.
"Ngh... ah... mmh..." she continued moaning while the waves continued.
The orgasm lasted what felt like an eternity. When it finally ended, Mitsuki was left lying on the bed, panting.
The comb slipped from her hand. It fell onto the wet sheets with a soft sound.
Her legs still trembled with the last spasms. Her heart beat as if she had just run a marathon.
God, she thought, looking at the ceiling. I needed that.
The tension she had been carrying all day was finally gone. Her body felt heavy and relaxed in a way she had not experienced in months.
She got up slowly from the bed. Her legs were still weak. She walked toward the bathroom again to clean herself.
The comb was left forgotten on the sheets. She would clean it later.
She washed herself quickly with a wet towel. She changed the sheets for clean ones. She put on fresh underwear.
When she finally got into bed again, it was almost 9 PM.
Katsuki had stopped making noise downstairs. He was probably in his room doing homework or planning how to destroy everyone in the UA exams.
The house was silent.
Mitsuki lay between the fresh sheets. Her body still vibrated slightly with the memory of the orgasm.
It had been too long since she felt like this. Alive. Awake. As if she had reconnected with a part of herself that had been turned off.
Volleyball, she thought as her eyes closed. I should play more often.
Because that was what it was. Two hours of intense exercise after months of being sedentary. Her body had woken up suddenly, reminding her that she was more than a mother and wife who spent days designing clothes.
She was a woman. With a body that needed to move. It needed to sweat. It needed to feel alive.
And today she had remembered it.
Her breathing became slower. Sleep began to claim her.
The simple relief of a satisfied need wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
*****
Author's Note: Next chapter unlocks at 50 power stones!
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