Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Bound to the Widow

The morning sun streamed through the paper screen, filling the room with soft golden light. Haruto stirred awake, his body sore yet strangely light, as if the weight of last night still lingered in his bones.

His first thought wasn’t of breakfast, or the cicadas screaming outside. It was of her.

Ayame.

He turned his head and there she was, lying naked beside him on the futon, her dark hair spilling across the pillow, her breasts rising and falling gently with her breathing. A faint sheen of sweat still clung to her skin, and between her thighs, the faintest trace of dried white told the story of what they had done.

Haruto’s chest tightened. It hadn’t been a dream. His cock still ached from the memory of her tight warmth, her moans, her body riding him until he spilled everything inside her.

I really did it... I lost my virginity...

His cheeks burned, guilt and excitement swirling together. But before he could untangle his thoughts, Ayame’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled drowsily, then reached out, pulling him close.

"Mmm... Haruto-kun," she whispered, her voice husky from sleep. "Still here... good boy."

Her hand slid over his chest, down his stomach, and boldly wrapped around his morning erection that pressed against his thigh. Haruto gasped.

"A-Ayame-san... it’s morning..."

She giggled softly, pressing her lips to his neck. "Morning or night, your cock doesn’t care, does it?"

Her hand stroked him slowly, deliberately, her fingers slick from the precum already forming at the tip. Haruto groaned, his body instantly betraying him.

Ayame shifted, her breasts pressing against his chest, her pussy brushing his thigh, hot and wet again despite the night of passion they had shared.

"I told you, Haruto..." she whispered against his ear, giving his cock a squeeze. "You belong to me now. Your cum, your cock... everything."

Haruto shuddered, torn between shame and overwhelming desire. He wanted to resist, but the warmth of her body, the smell of her skin, the way her hand stroked his shaft—it was impossible.

Ayame kissed his lips softly, tender at first, then deeper, hungrier. "Mmm... let’s not waste the morning, Haruto-kun. Show me again how much you need me."

She rolled him onto his back, straddling him once more, her breasts hanging heavy over his face as her pussy lowered toward his cock.

The countryside morning was quiet, but inside Ayame’s room, lust was already awake, burning hotter than the summer sun.

After their second round on the futon, Ayame stretched languidly, her breasts bouncing with the motion. Haruto lay there, chest heaving, his cock still wet and twitching. But Ayame’s mischievous smile told him she wasn’t satisfied yet.

"Haruto-kun," she whispered, brushing her hair back, "do you want to do something even naughtier?"

He blinked. "N-naughtier than this?"

Her lips curved. She stood, naked, and pulled him up by the hand. "Yes. Let’s see how brave you are..."

Before he could protest, she slid the door open. The hallway creaked under their bare feet as she led him toward the engawa—the wooden veranda that looked out onto her garden. Morning air drifted in, carrying the smell of soil and flowers. Birds chirped, and somewhere in the distance, neighbors were already working in their fields.

Haruto’s heart pounded. "A-Ayame-san... here? What if someone hears?"

"That’s the point," she purred, pushing him down to sit against the wooden pillar. "Don’t you see? The risk makes it so much sweeter."

She lowered herself into his lap, her pussy already wet and eager, and guided his cock inside her with a slow, deliberate thrust. Haruto groaned, clutching her hips as she sank down, his entire length swallowed by her warmth.

"Ahh~... Haruto-kun..." Ayame moaned softly, biting her lip to keep her voice down, though the sound still carried faintly in the quiet morning air.

Every creak of the veranda, every gasp from her lips, felt like it could be overheard. Haruto’s stomach twisted with fear and arousal. His cock pulsed harder inside her, and Ayame grinned knowingly.

"You like it, don’t you?" she whispered, rocking her hips. "The thought that someone might hear you fucking me... the widow taking her young neighbor’s cock..."

Her breasts bounced with every movement, nipples hard, sweat gleaming under the sun. She leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear.

"Maybe they’ll whisper about me later... ’Did you hear Ayame moaning this morning? She must have a secret lover...’"

Haruto couldn’t take it anymore. He gripped her ass and thrust upward, making her gasp loudly—too loudly.

"Shhh!" he hissed in panic, but Ayame only laughed breathlessly, covering her mouth with one hand while still bouncing on his cock, the wet slap of their bodies echoing against the wood.

The thrill of exposure, the risk of discovery—it drove them both closer to the edge, every movement more frantic, every moan harder to suppress.

And just beyond the garden fence... a shadow lingered, pausing in their steps as if listening.

Ayame’s body shuddered above him, her pussy gripping Haruto’s cock tighter with every bounce. The creak of the veranda, the slap of flesh, and her muffled moans painted the morning air with something indecent.

"Ahh—Haru...to-kun...~" she gasped, covering her mouth with both hands, her breasts jiggling wildly as she rode him harder.

Haruto’s nails dug into her soft thighs. His pulse hammered in his ears, sweat rolling down his temples. The thought that just beyond the fence, someone could pass by, hear her moans, see them—made his cock throb unbearably inside her.

"Ayame-san... I-I can’t hold it..." he panted.

Her eyes, hazy with lust, locked onto his. "Cum inside me, Haruto-kun. Fill me again—just like before."

Her whisper was desperate, shameless. She leaned down, pressing her lips against his ear, her hot breath tickling his skin. "Give me everything... don’t hold back..."

Her words broke his last restraint. Haruto thrust up hard, slamming into her so deep she nearly cried out. Ayame bit down on his shoulder, muffling her scream as her orgasm tore through her body.

"Mmhhhhh—!!"

Her pussy clenched violently, milking his cock as he erupted inside her. Hot seed spilled deep, pulse after pulse, her walls quivering and sucking him dry.

The veranda creaked as she collapsed against him, both of them trembling, sweaty, and gasping for air.

For a long while, neither spoke. Only the sound of their heavy breathing and distant birdsong filled the air.

Finally, Ayame lifted her head, strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. She gave him a wicked smile.

"See, Haruto-kun? No one knows... only us. It’s our little secret."

Haruto swallowed, his cock still buried inside her, his heart still racing. He knew she was right—but the thrill of what they’d just done, the danger of being caught, only made it more intoxicating.

As the morning sun warmed their tangled bodies, they shared a silent agreement. Whatever this was between them—it was forbidden, reckless, and dangerously addicting.

And it was theirs alone.