Over the next few months, my explorations became bolder, more self-indulgent. I began to seek out moments of quiet solitude in her life, reveling in the simple intimacy of being alone with her body.
I started to experiment, to explore her body with a new purpose. My fingers found their way between her legs, feeling the moist, supple folds of her.
I closed my eyes and let her body take over, exploring its own contours, a symphony of touch and feeling. I found the clitoris, and with a mix of shame and breathless anticipation, began to pleasure her. My climax was a wave of pure, unadulterated sensation that left me gasping, a profound sense of self-indulgence that was both terrifying and utterly addictive.
This new reality was the ultimate drug. I even began to seek out moments when her husband, my neighbor, was home. I found I could speak fluent Japanese, the words coming to me naturally.
I found that I craved his admiration. This wasn't just about the physical anymore; it was about the emotional connection I had lost with my own wife. I would fish for compliments, not in a desperate way, but in a way that felt natural for Akari, a little coy, a little vulnerable.
The conversations with Kenji became more intimate with each visit. One evening, after I had slipped into her skin, I found myself in the living room with him, sipping tea. He was talking about a difficult project at work, and I found myself naturally giving advice, words of encouragement. The conversation turned, as it often did, to us.
"You know, Akari," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble, "Lately... I can't stop thinking about you. Even when I'm at work."
A wave of heat flooded my chest. The perversity of it was almost too much. I forced a quiet, demure laugh.
"Is that so?" I whispered, my voice, her voice, a breathless whisper, "What do you think about?"
His eyes, full of a deep, primal sincerity, locked with mine, "I think about you after you've just come out of the shower. The way the water clings to your skin. I think about the scent of you when you're just waking up in the morning. And how your body feels against mine in the middle of the night."
A jolt, an electric shock of both shame and arousal, tore through me. My mind raced, trying to keep up. I was a man, a husband, a father, and I was hearing another man, my neighbor, describe the things he loved about his wife, and in the moment, I found I was completely, utterly turned on.
"I think about how you taste," he continued, his voice a husky whisper, "the way your skin feels when I'm on top of you. I think about the little sighs you make right before you come. I live for those little sighs, Akari."
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The air in the room was thick with unspoken tension. I knew he wanted to have sex then and there. Every line of his body was telling me so.
I had to go back to my body before it got too far.
Comments
Post a Comment