episode_0083

.

Just in case—

The thought crossed my mind that it might be that kind of fluid,

but I quickly shook my head.

There’s no way it could be arousal fluid when nothing was even inserted.

Wasn’t that something that came out during sex to act as lubrication? …Right?

Anyway.

So, most likely, it’s just sweat.

My cleavage is damp too, so even if my panties ended up like this, it wouldn’t be that weird.

I feel so gross I could die—I should check how bad it is first.

My messy, lion-colored hair.

My sleepwear, disheveled all over.

I collapse back onto the bed, roll onto my side, and groan as I struggle to pull off my pajama pants.

…For some reason, my limbs feel weak, so I flail my legs like I’m splashing in water.

I tied the drawstring loosely, so why does it keep catching on my butt…? Ugh…

Wriggling and squirming, I finally manage to kick the pants off my feet with a flutter.

Phew. After that battle, I toss the pants to the side of the bed and hook my fingers into my panties, sliding them down.

“…….”

That’s better.

If it had ended here, it would’ve been fine.

It’s damp.

Even this much is understandable.

It’s just sweat, sticky from the heat, meeting cooler air.

But it’s slimy.

That’s where it starts getting weird.

Sure, sweat can be a little sticky, but not this much.

And the strangest part of all is—

If this were just sweat,

…it wouldn’t be stretching like this, clinging to my panties in thick strands.

“……Hn, hn.”

A sudden thought makes me cough awkwardly,

and I cough again to force the idea out of my head.

No way. That’s ridiculous.

If reading one lewd manga could do this, then when I skimmed through the ones Yozora recommended, wouldn’t something like this have happened at least once?

I nod to myself, convinced by my own flawless logic.

Still, if I had to point out a difference between then and now, there is one thing.

The character—who’s always been just a normal person—now has animal ears and a tail. That’s it.

…Oh, right. And it’s a Korean manga, not Japanese. That’s another difference.

Not that it means much.

But would that really be enough to make me like this?

That doesn’t make any sense, does it?

Whatever. I’ll just quickly wash my lower half and go to bed.

I’ll change my panties and sleep—I sweated way too much.

Look, just running my hand up the inside of my thigh is enough to feel the sweat…

“…….”

…Except it’s not damp. It’s…

Wait.

“…Why is this…?”

I trail my fingers lower, still probing between my thighs.

This is weird. This shouldn’t be happening.

If my panties are sticky from sweat, then my thighs should be drenched too, right?

So why are they so… dry?

That would mean the source of the sticky fluid is…

“…….”

A brief silence.

After a moment, my fingertips move cautiously.

Down.

Down.

To the edge of my panties, where they’re soaked—testing just how wet they are. Gently.

Then, with the fluid now coating my fingers, I drag them back up to where the panties had been pressed against my skin.

Up.

Up.

…It’s not like I can’t feel anything, so I already knew it was unbelievably wet down there,

but I’d been avoiding acknowledging it—until my fingers reached it.

Until they touched the damp, soft skin,

and my knees jerked at the inexplicable shiver that ran through me.

Everything after that…

is a little hazy.

83

The vulva.

Female genitalia.

Or, crudely put… a pussy.

Normally, I don’t think much about it, but when I was younger, I used to wonder, Why is it shaped like this?

Even now, I don’t really know the answer.

But I have learned something new.

“Hn…? Hah…? Eh….”

…If I press and rub it, it feels good.

Not like in fiction, where women moan from having a man’s thing inside them.

No, just from touching it myself—carefully, tentatively.

“Fuaah… Nnh…….”

But this…

It’s hard to describe as just feeling good.

It’s more like… it seems like it feels good?

Or maybe close to feeling good?

Every gentle stroke makes my lower abdomen tremble.

My vision blurs, growing hazier.

My thighs keep twitching, jerking,

and like a writhing worm, pleasure races up my spine, making me rub my cheek against the pillow.

It’s hard to understand how all these sensations add up to feeling good…

But as if to say Who cares? the arousal fluid coating my fingers keeps increasing.

“……. ….? ……♡”

Lightly.

Like tickling someone—lightly.

I rub my fingers against my vulva like that,

then slowly pull them away, feeling the fluid stretch between my skin and fingertips,

before rubbing again,

stroking the flesh around it with my fingertips.

…Actually touching there is…

Still a little scary.

You know?

Like some instinct tells me I shouldn’t touch it yet…

So just around it.

Yeah.

“Nngh……. Hah…?”

Pressing the edge of the blanket between my legs, I let out a small, pleasured whimper.

I want to moan louder, but… I keep it as quiet as possible.

Glancing sideways to make sure the door is properly closed,

I knead the slick flesh with my fingertips,

and every time my heart pounds, I clamp my free hand over my mouth.

…You never know.

I might end up like those girls in manga,

or like the ones in the porn I just watched,

howling like a bitch in heat.

And then, what if the landlady sleeping next door happens to hear…?

How could I face her tomorrow if that happened…?

…W-wait…

“……! …?!”

A sudden, crackling wave of pleasure spreads up my spine, leaving no room for questions.

I stifle the moan threatening to escape, pressing my lungs flat.

In its place, tiny, choked sounds—Nn, hng—leak from my lips.

What?

What is this?

Flustered by the sharp, throbbing sensation, I yank the blanket tangled between my legs like I’m trying to tear it.

Not by choice—my body keeps jerking on its own.

But I can’t exactly free my legs from the blanket, so I have no choice.

Tears well up in my eyes for no reason,

and I exhale hot breaths against my palm, still clamped over my mouth.

Maybe because I just brushed my teeth—the minty toothpaste scent lingers on my hand.

If I kissed someone now, it’d be a minty kiss.

A tear slips down, leaving my cheek and pillow slightly damp.

Maybe because my mind’s gone blank—such a pointless thought floats by.

As my dazed mind starts to clear a little, I pull my fingers away from my clitoris and hold them up to my face.

“…Hah…. …Hah….”

…Looking at the sheer amount of fluid dripping from my fingers,

I think I understand why I’m so thirsty now.

I must be insane…

Seriously…

“Hiyuu…….”

…But.

Is this… really okay?

I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t…

…I know what sex is. Of course I do by now.

But touching here with my fingers…

…….

…I think it’s called foreplay.

But isn’t that something someone else does to you…?

Not just lightly touching around it like this,

but pinching and rubbing the clit,

or pushing fingers inside that tiny hole to stroke the walls…

“…….”

…Something someone else does.

That…

…….

Hmm…

…Hehe…

“…Ah, wait… before that…”

Exploring my curiosity is fine, but there’s one thing I need to do first.

Staggering unsteadily, I get up and limp to the corner of the room.

Just in case, I lock the bedroom door on the way and double-check it.

What I’m after is in the drawer.

Among various daily necessities and clutter,

there’s a drawer with towels.

I pull out the gray one I dislike the most.

I-I mean, in manga, girls always make so much arousal fluid…

…Won’t this keep it from soaking into the bed?

I shake my head violently to dispel the embarrassing thought.

What’s left is curiosity.

Wrapping my shameful actions in the most sophisticated words possible, I return to bed.

I can toss the damp towel into the laundry tomorrow after my shower…

Laying the dry towel over the bed—now filled with the scent of sweat and something new, something strange—I carefully lie facedown.

It’s a little suffocating with my chest pressed down, but this’ll make it easier to keep quiet.

“Fhhuu…”

Burying my face in the pillow, saturated with the smell of my shampoo, I slide a hand beneath my hips.

The thirst I’d normally rush to the kitchen to quench can wait for now.

Holding my breath so the landlady sleeping across the hall won’t hear,

I-I just want to touch my… clitoris…

…In other words, curiosity.

“…Nngh…….”

My nails, trimmed short for sword practice, brush against the slit I’d been caressing earlier.

Just that—and my pussy is already oozing slick arousal fluid.

…There’s no way it’d get this wet from one touch, so it must’ve already been pooled inside.

I don’t know how much there is, though…

Tap, tap. I lightly drum my fingers against the slit, making myself flinch.

“……. ….”

Mimicking a pose I once saw in a manga Yozora recommended, I kneel properly and press my chest down,

using the fingers between my legs to part the soft flesh in a V-shape.

…If I end up splattering arousal fluid everywhere while touching my clit, it’ll be a pain to clean up.

That’s the only reason.

“Hhuu… Hiiih……”

Face still buried in the pillow, I slowly move the fingers spread across my vulva.

Just that—and my thighs, already sensitive to pleasure, keep brushing against my hands.

Creak, creak. The slow, distinct sound of the bed reaches my ears.

And then,

on the fingers holding myself open,

I feel the arousal fluid seeping out from inside, dripping down.

I don’t have enough experience to gauge how much there is,

but it’s not enough to worry about.

Just enough…

…to coat a guy’s dick, with a little left over.

I hate putting it like that, but it’s the most accurate comparison.

“…. ……. …Fuu…”

Well then, now that…

I’ve dealt with the immediate concern.

I wipe the fluid off my fingers onto the towel and bring my hand back between my legs.

Not particularly mature,

or even childish.

Just soft, downy hair and pale pink… p-pussy…

…From there, I drag my fingers lower,

and for the first time, touch my clit.

“Nngh……? Hn…? …Eh……”

But contrary to my expectations, it wasn’t that intense.

Weird. In manga, girls soak the bed after just a few rubs from a guy.

There’s some tingling, but not to that degree.

Was it exaggerated in fiction?

Or am I doing it wrong?

Let’s focus on technique first.

I can blame the manga later.

I’ll adjust my approach.

Try to mimic what I’ve seen as closely as possible.

“…….”

A good beginning makes a good ending,

as the saying goes.

Maybe because I’ve already crossed the line into doing something lewd, I’m a little less tense now.

Instead of barely grazing my clitoris,

I rub it properly,

like this,

and touch it,

for real.

“……?♡ ……?? ………♡”

Squelch, squish. The obscenely wet sounds fill the room.

They’re quiet—so quiet you wouldn’t hear them unless you strained your ears.

The intermittent creaking of the bed as my hips jerk is a little louder,

but not enough to be noticeable.

My saliva soaks into the pillow I’m biting, and my ragged breaths muffle into the fabric.

A small sound.

Smaller than the wet noises against the towel.

Much smaller.

“……. …Fuu…….”

So,

no matter what,

there’s no way the landlady could hear.

“…….”

Peel. I lift my face from the pillow for a moment,

then tug the towel beneath me up a little higher,

covering the pillow still marked with my teeth.

…Luckily,

the towel is very long.