Yulia clung to my arm the whole way to the parking lot, her grip unrelenting. A switch had flipped in her—something I'd unwittingly triggered. It was as thrilling as it was daunting, knowing I'd sparked this fire in her. Responsibility came with it, a duty to quench what I'd ignited. I'd always been that way—shouldering burdens since I'd vowed to conquer my flaws.
"What a nice car…" she whispered, her voice a soft breeze, not quite hidden. The compliment lingered as I opened the passenger door for her, letting her slip in before circling to the driver's side.
I slid in, the engine roaring to life like a lion unleashed as I checked our seatbelts.
Yulia's hand found my thigh, fingers subtly digging in, kneading the muscle. Her face flushed, lips pursed, brows knitted in a defenseless seduction—a silent plea to take her right then and there.
"My apartment's not far," I said firmly, my calloused hand covering hers, giving it a steady squeeze. "Please be patient."
"Okay…" Her pout was childish, petulant, as she withdrew her hand. Those thick thighs shifted, rubbing together, chasing an itch just out of reach.
Fuck. My pants tightened at the sight, a pulse of heat surging through me. I punched the GPS coordinates in, more to toy with her anticipation than necessity, and eased the car onto the road. Sunlight poured through the windshield, casting a golden glow over the wicked intent simmering between us.
The lively, playful banter from the mall had melted into a thick, expectant silence, gnawing at our fraying self-control. One bold hand—hers or mine—could breach the distance, igniting the spark we both craved. Yet, tethered by our own shy hesitations, we hovered in limbo, Yulia's earlier touch the tentative first base of a desire now smoldering beneath the surface.
The car's engine roared with pride at each start, settling into a low, smooth purr as it glided along. Traffic at 1 PM flowed light, a Friday breeze, though the streets still hummed with workers drifting to and fro.
At every stop sign, my eyes flicked to Yulia, her gaze waiting to snare mine. I repaid her wandering hand with one of my own, clamping down on her right thigh with a firm, deliberate squeeze.
"Naughty boy…!" she huffed, pouting as her thighs tensed beneath my grip. The thin fabric of her skirt teased me with the illusion of bare skin, warm and yielding.
My fingers danced lower, tapping a slow descent toward the hem just above her knee. "J-Jona, s-stop…" Her voice faltered—maybe from the brazenness of my move, the public setting, or a flicker of fear surrendering to the moment.
"Okay." I withdrew my hand, planting it decisively back on the steering wheel.
Yulia's wide eyes betrayed her surprise at my abrupt halt. "A-are you teasing me?" she stammered, a mix of disbelief and heat in her tone.
"No, I stopped because you said stop," I replied, matter-of-fact, my focus steady on the road ahead.
Silence settled between us for a few minutes as the traffic eased into a gentle flow, the drive smoothing out like a sigh. Ahead loomed the Fantasia Apartment Complex, my home for four years, its glassy penthouse crown—where Kirie's dad reigned—glinting in the afternoon sun. A beacon of a day I'd never forget.
"We're close," I said, nodding toward the sleek tower peeking over the cityscape. Its stylish, curtained glass walls shimmered, a quiet spectacle that always turned heads.
"What a nice complex… Is it expensive?" Yulia leaned toward me, her voice soft with curiosity. The seatbelt sliced between her breasts, pressing them against my forearm, their weight a warm distraction.
"The owner's son is my best friend, so I got a deal. I'm grateful for them," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips as Kirie's face flashed in my mind. Like father, like son—both generous souls, eager to share their blessings with those they held dear.
After parking, I tossed a wave to the two receptionist girls at the desk, Yulia mirroring me with a shy flutter of her hand as we made for the elevator. The ride to the seventh floor buzzed with quiet tension—others crowded in beside us, a small mercy. Without them, I might've pinned her to the wall, restraint be damned.
Our hands stayed locked, fingers woven tight, and I drew deep, steadying breaths to keep my pulse in check. The doors parted, and we stepped out swiftly, my apartment just a heartbeat away. A quick press of my thumb to the lock—its click a soft promise—swung the door wide, and I guided her inside.
"Would you… Like to take a bath first?" The question stumbled out, foolish and halting. We both knew the day belonged to our hunger for each other, yet a nagging itch compelled me to ask—women fuss over their looks, don't they? Before I could finish the thought, her lips crashed into mine, silencing me.
The kiss burned with passion. Her tongue slipped past my teeth, coaxing mine into a frenzied dance of gasps and wet, eager squelches. Caught off guard, I staggered as she leapt into my arms, my back slamming against the wall. It held me steady, a cool anchor, while the smoldering heat of the snow spirit pressed against me, her desire a living flame.
"Melt me away," she whispered, her voice a sultry breath as she licked the lingering saliva from our kiss off her lips.
That flipped my switch.
With a ragged huff, I scooped Yulia up in a princess carry, her lightness a thrill in my arms. I strode through the monochrome sprawl of my apartment—grays and whites blurring past—and tossed her onto the soft couch bed. She let out a startled squeal, tumbling like a flung bag of chips, her snowy hair fanning out. Converting the couch to its bed form took mere seconds: a few deft tugs, the press of a button, and a flick of the side lever.
"Your wish is my command," I declared, shedding my jewelry into the small birch bowl on the coffee table with a soft clink. My fingers moved to my polo, popping buttons free, then to my belt, unbuckling it with a sharp tug that echoed in the charged air.
"Be gentle..." Yulia sprawled across the white expanse of the couch bed like an all-you-can-eat feast laid bare. Her arms stretched above her head, framing that seductive gaze—cobalt eyes glinting, daring me to pounce. Her legs tangled clumsily, a novice's allure, wrapped in loose clothes that only sharpened the sinful curve of her hourglass figure. Words deserted me, lost to the hunger she stirred.
"All I can promise is that I won't hurt you." Gentle be damned—I wanted to run her ragged, to claim her with my grip—but before my restraint unraveled, I drew a deep, steadying breath and mounted her. Her top came off first, easily tugged free from where it tucked into her skirt. I leaned in with a kiss as she squirmed out of her cardigan, my hands sliding her sweater up slowly, unveiling the milky expanse of her skin.
A small kiss lingered, then I trailed more down her slender neck, now flushed a vivid red with embarrassment. Her scent hit me, fresh snow laced with a sweet, minty cologne, clouding my senses. Her skin yielded beneath my touch, soft and springy, quivering with every graze.
I half-feared I'd snap her delicate frame if I gripped too hard.
But the body's tougher than it looks. Even when I was heavier, bruises were the worst I'd earned. She'd endure the same, I reasoned. That dark flicker spurred my hand to close firmly around her breast, feeling the silky bra encasing it. The fabric was high-quality, but the pliable flesh beneath was a treasure—warm, giving, alive.
"Hnh… you're going to crush them in your hand…" she moaned, her voice a breathy tremble as she bit her lower lip, caught in the sensation. Her body tensed beneath me, a hard bud pressing through the bra, nudging insistently against my palm. The excess of her breasts slide between my fingers, enveloping my hands in seconds as I press and knead my fingers.
"Tell me if it hurts," I said, her sweater whipping off her wrists with a soft rustle, leaving Yulia clad only in her skirt and a bra that barely restrained her chest. The faint clack of her shoes hitting the living room carpet punctuated the air as they fell.
My gaze roamed over her, awestruck. Her head-sized breasts swelled larger than they'd seemed beneath her clothes, stealing my breath as I traced the details of her bra—white and blue, like clouds cradling her curves. They felt like airy dough, plush and yielding, as if kneaded with eighty percent hydration, spilling beyond my grasp.
"Is this your first time seeing boobs, Jona?" Her voice lilted, childish and teasing, brimming with the smug pride of a kid flaunting a prized toy.
"That, and this big. They're spilling out of my hand…" I murmured, jiggling one in my palm, marveling at its weight. Only then did I spot the front hook—a subtle clue she'd planned for this moment.
"Did you see it?" she asked, a grin curling her lips, tinged with a playful "oh no, I've been found out~" that danced in her cobalt eyes.
"What a naughty lady you are, Miss Yulia," I teased, unhooking her bra with a deft flick of my finger. The fabric slid free, and her plush, bouncy breasts spilled out, rolling and swaying as they settled along the sides of her torso. My eyes trailed down, captivated by her impressive midriff—taut yet adorned with a soft, endearing hint of chub.
"Most men call girls a 'slut' by this point, you know? For spicy talk," she giggled, her hands settling on my wrists with a gentle, guiding grip.
"Are you into that type of talk?" The thought had flickered through my mind, but voicing it aloud churned a sour twist in my gut. Degrading someone as pristine and innocently seductive as her felt wrong—jarring in a way I didn't want to imagine.
"Either or… just depends on how you treat me~" Her fingers tightened slightly, a quiet reassurance steering my next move.
I paused, weighing it. Playful or degrading? Her support nudged me toward playful—safer, lighter. Swallowing hard, I shifted closer, lips grazing her neck as I breathed against her ear.
"You dressed up like this, preparing to get fucked all night? What a good little slut you are." The words spilled out, playful yet bold, flowing as naturally as my breath.
Yulia would shudder under the weight of my words, gasping and huffing heavily as her thighs squeezed together strongly.
"D-Dangerous... I-If you keep speaking to me like that, I-I might just- hnnnnhhh~!" She'd continue to talk, then get cut off mid money as her body convulsed strongly for a few moments before relaxing; her eyes hazy and clouded with pleasure.
"J-Jona... just... fuck me, please... all day... all night...!"