The silence after Lyra left the bedroom felt heavier than it should have, not empty but dense, thick with unfamiliar air and lingering warmth. Aren remained seated on the edge of the bed for a long moment, staring down at his own naked body as if the sight itself might still vanish if he blinked too hard. The sheets beneath him were warm, faintly scented with soap, milk, and skin, and when he finally allowed his gaze to lower, reality struck him with terrifying clarity.
His body was completely bare.
Broad shoulders, firm chest, flat stomach, strong thighs — everything looked natural, healthy, and undeniably male. And between his legs, resting openly without the slightest attempt at modesty, his cock lay thick and heavy against his inner thigh, the shaft warm and faintly pulsing with blood, framed by full balls that hung lower and heavier than he remembered. The sight alone made his throat dry. There was no hiding here, no instinct to cover himself, no sudden shame. This body existed to be seen, and the world around it seemed to agree.
Slowly, cautiously, he reached down.
Not to stroke — not yet.
Just to confirm.
His fingers wrapped around the base, and the first thing he noticed was the weight. Not imagined, not symbolic, but real physical heaviness settling into his palm. His grip tightened slightly as he lifted his cock just enough to feel how solid it was, how thick the shaft pressed against his fingers, how naturally his balls shifted in his hand, heavy and warm, skin sensitive to even the faint pressure of his thumb. A slow breath escaped him before he could stop it. The sensation was far too real, far too detailed to be anything like a dream.
His thumb brushed unconsciously along the underside, testing, and his body answered instantly. Heat pooled low in his belly, blood rushing forward, his cock thickening subtly in his grip as arousal woke with frightening speed. At the tip, a faint bead of clear moisture gathered, glistening softly in the morning light — not release, not climax, just desire awakening naturally with him.
He stared at it for a moment.
Then laughed quietly.
A low, disbelieving sound that held more excitement than panic.
"So… this is real…"
Memory began to settle properly then, not the confusion of waking but the deeper awareness of this life. The rules. The customs. The way this civilization functioned. And suddenly, without Lyra saying a word, everything aligned.
This world was not chaotic.
It was simply honest.
Here, nudity was not exposure — it was normal. Bodies were not hidden, not censored, not feared. Touch was language. Sex was not possession, but communication, recreation, culture. Marriage was not about owning flesh, but about choosing where the heart belonged. Jealousy barely existed because desire was never treated as betrayal. Sharing was not infidelity. Watching was not humiliation. Pleasure was not shame.
And milk… milk was nourishment, medicine, comfort, tradition.
Families bathed together. Guests stayed freely. Bodies were admired openly, compared, ranked, celebrated. Desire was not suppressed — it was guided.
A slow smile spread across Aren's face as realization finally settled fully into place.
"…So this is my reincarnation reward…"
The shock drained away, replaced by something far more dangerous.
Anticipation.
Excitement.
Hunger.
If this was the world he had been given…
Then he had absolutely no intention of resisting it.
The sound of running water finally pulled him from his thoughts.
The bathroom door stood wide open, steam drifting lazily into the hallway, and when Aren stepped inside, the sight waiting for him nearly stole the breath from his lungs.
Lyra stood beneath the wide marble shower, completely naked, water sliding freely over her body without restraint. Her shoulders glistened, droplets tracing slow paths down smooth skin before gathering between her breasts, lingering briefly around darkened nipples before dripping lower. Her breasts were full and heavy, swaying faintly with each shift of her posture, soft flesh responding naturally to gravity and motion. Soap gleamed along her stomach and hips, slipping in thin trails over the soft curve of her ass and along the backs of her thighs.
And this time…
He did not see a stranger.
Memory aligned perfectly.
This woman was not confusion.
Not shock.
Not danger.
This was Lyra Valen.
His wife.
His chosen partner.
His woman.
His gaze softened first — then sharpened with open appreciation.
He examined her slowly, deliberately, without guilt or restraint. The way her breasts settled naturally on her chest, heavy and full, nipples slightly tightened by the cool air. The gentle slope of her waist into wide hips. The smooth line of her stomach, flat and firm. The fullness of her thighs. The round curve of her ass, inviting even in stillness. Between her legs, her pussy lay relaxed and unhidden, faintly flushed from heat, entirely natural and utterly beautiful.
Desire surged instantly.
His cock thickened in his hand without permission, heat rising fast.
"…Lyra…" he murmured, voice low, almost reverent, "you're… unbelievable…"
She turned when she heard him, eyes bright with amusement, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile.
"Of course I am," she replied lightly. "I married you, didn't I?"
She stepped closer, water still running, droplets sliding down her breasts and dripping lazily from her nipples. Without hesitation, she took his hands and placed them on her hips, guiding them upward until his palms cupped the soft underside of her breasts.
Heavy.
Warm.
Perfect.
They settled into his hands as if they had always belonged there.
And in that moment, with her body pressed close and his own fully awake, Aren finally relaxed.
No panic.
No denial.
No resistance.
Only curiosity.
Only desire.
Only excitement.
This world was not madness.
This world…
Was his paradise.
And as Lyra leaned in and kissed him softly, water still flowing around them, Aren made his first true decision in this new life:
He would not merely survive this civilization.
He would embrace it.
Master it.
And enjoy every dangerous second.