Love Hina Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy ❯ Chapter 59

Keitaro opened his eyes, one hand covering his mouth as he yawned, while the other fumbled for his glasses. Where…oh, right. Mo-chan's room at her family's home, he recalled. He could hear birds chirping and the window of Motoko's old room was showing the light of the sun as it began to peek over the mountains. Fishing around next to the futon, he found his watch and glanced at it. Wow, pretty early. Why'd I wake up this early? he wondered.

 

The answer to that occurred to him moments later. He had been feeling a little cold. His mind was a bit sluggish, so it took him another heartbeat or two to realize that he was feeling cold because the warmth from his wife and concubine was missing. Where did Mo-chan and Tsu-chan get off to? he wondered, stretching in preparation to stand. Just then, the door slid open, and the two sisters entered, closing the door behind them. “Good morning, Keitaro,” Motoko said, kneeling to kiss him.

 

“Keitaro-sama,” smiled Tsuruko, taking her sister's place as Motoko shifted aside.

 

“Morning, Tsu-chan, Mo-chan,” he replied. Eyeing the sisters, he saw that they had on thin, short robes. Their hair was loose and both had their bokken in hand when they entered the room. “Um, is everything ok?” he wondered, moving out of the futon.

 

“Yes,” answered Tsuruko. “We just stepped to the bathroom,” she added. Keitaro realized that that sounded like a fine idea to him, too.

 

“I think I will, too,” he said, checking his boxers to make sure his morning wood wasn't sticking out before reaching for his pants and a shirt.

 

“Please hurry back,” Motoko said, her hands raised and behind her head as she tied back her hair into a single, thick ponytail. Keitaro nodded, liking what her position did to her silhouette.

 

“We will be waiting for you, Keitaro,” Tsuruko added from his other side, a brush in her hand as she brushed her own long hair. Mutely, Keitaro nodded, swallowing roughly as he hurried out the door to her room and to the bathroom nearest to the room they shared. As he moved down the halls, he saw a few of the Shinmei-ryu students coming or going down the halls, and in the inner courtyard. Some of them watched him with impassive expressions, while others gave him small smiled and head bows as he passed them.

 

Swiftly finishing his morning pit stop, he moved back toward the room where his women were, noticing that there were more swordsmen in the courtyard. He thought he saw one of the men from the council there, too. Reaching the room, he slid the door open and stepped in, closing it behind him. He found Motoko and Tsuruko just lowering their wooden swords. “Everything ok?” he wondered.

 

“Of course,” smiled Motoko. Tugging the belt knot free, she slipped off her robe, revealing she only had panties on under her robe. Tsuruko did the same, leaving her naked save for panties as well. Tsuruko's hair was tied back in a ponytail as well, and the two had laid out their hakama and gi uniforms on the now-made futon, though neither had dressed in them yet. Not that Keitaro was in any hurry for them to get dressed. I wouldn't mind undressing them, in fact, he thought absently. Not that there is a lot to those panties, he amended the thought.

 

He forced those thoughts aside as he saw Motoko hand her sister a length of soft cotton cloth. It took him a moment to realize that it was a chest binding. They are going to bind their chests? he thought unhappily. Both sisters had truly magnificent breasts, better than any he had ever seen in any hentai magazine. It wasn't until he was cupping Tsuruko's breasts with his hands that he realized he had moved to where the sisters were. A soft giggle came from Tsuruko as he reverently cupped her breasts. “Mm, that feels nice,” purred the woman happily, holding her arms up so he had total access to her firm mounds. Keitaro could feel how hard her nipples were.

 

“Do you want to spend some time with us before breakfast?” asked Motoko, hugging him from behind as he fondled her older sister. Through his tee shirt, he could feel her hard tips digging into his back.

 

“Or do you just dislike our breasts being bound?” suggested Tsuruko slyly.

 

“Do you have to bind them?” asked Keitaro, not realizing his tone sounded wistful.

 

“I'm afraid it is a prudent precaution, Keitaro-sama,” Tsuruko murmured, her arms drawing him to her, Keitaro dipped his head slightly so he could suck on her nipple, alternating between them. Tsuruko hissed approvingly as he did so. After a few minutes, she regretfully eased his face back from her breasts. “My apologies, Keitaro-sama, but I must prepare. Please, share your affections with your wife,” she urged.

 

Without a word, Keitaro turned and attacked Motoko, who bit back a yelp of pleasure as he latched onto her own hard nipples. Wrapping her arms around his head, she shifted her thighs, feeling her sex heating up like a furnace. If he keeps doing that, I won't be happy until he fills me with his wonderful dick, she thought, not unhappily. Feeling something hard and warm nudge her upper thighs, she smirked. Oh, now that does feel inviting, thought the horny wife.

 

A scratch on the door, made her smirk turn to a black scowl. “Tsuruko-san, are you awake?” asked a soft voice.

 

“I am,” replied Tsuruko, hand on her bokken.

 

“The morning exercise is being held in the inner courtyard, instead of the dojo,” said the voice.

 

“Thank you, Yuuhiro,” Tsuruko replied. The faint sound of soft footfalls was her only answer. “We must hurry, Motoko,” murmured Tsuruko. Biting back a curse, Motoko eased Keitaro back from her chest, no happier about it than he was. Looking down, she saw his pants were tented.

 

“Sorry, Keitaro,” she said, bending down slightly to kiss him passionately. “I swear I will make it up to you tonight,” she promised.

 

“I…I understand,” he replied. Damn it, just my luck, he thought sourly. Motoko's hand gently cupped his groin, tenderly re-arranging his hard dick to a more comfortable position.

 

“I will make it up to you, Keitaro,” she repeated herself, giving him a soft smile. “Promise,” she added.

 

“I believe you, Mo-chan,” he replied, touching her cheek. She blushed slightly.

 

“T…Thank you, Keitaro,” she stammered slightly. “Nee-chan, I will help you,” she said, turning and taking the strip of soft cloth from her sister. Tsuruko raised her arms over her head as Motoko began the process of binding her sister's chest. Keitaro, who had never seen the process before, watched, fascinated. Instead of going from one end of the strip of cloth, Motoko started from the middle, overlapping the material from just under her sister's breasts and wrapping in both directions, overlapping slightly as she went, pulling the soft cotton snug but not tight. As she reached the top of her chest, she tucked first one, then another end back into the firmly-wrapped cloth, holding it securely in place.

 

“Thank you, Motoko,” Tsuruko said, moving her arms before nodding. Picking up Motoko's bindings, she helped Motoko bind her breasts, Motoko now holding her arms up over her head as her sister swiftly bound her full breasts.

 

“You did that yourself, every morning, Motoko?” Keitaro asked, impressed.

 

“Yes,” she answered.

 

“Amazing,” he breathed. He was really impressed, since it would be a lot harder to do it by herself, and it would take a bit of time, too. His opinion of Motoko - already high - rose even more. Tsuruko swiftly tucked the ends in, the two sisters now ready to dress. Swiftly, they stepped into the pants, then secured their gi. That done, they picked up their bokken.

 

“Are you ready, Keitaro?” they asked. Blinking, Keitaro hurriedly tucked in his shirt and fastened his belt. Making sure his zipper was up, he nodded. The two sisters led him out of the room, Tsuruko leading, Motoko following him. Before he knew it, he was looking at a large number of swordsmen, standing silently in the inner courtyard, barefoot in the dew-slick grass. “Watch from here,” Tsuruko murmured as she and Motoko stepped off the wood walkway and onto the grass.

 

“Tsuruko-san,” said the man. Keitaro recognized him as the one who had spoken in support of the new chairman, “what brings you here so early?” he asked.

 

“I am the head instructor of the school. Where else would I be?” asked Tsuruko coolly. Motoko stood by her sister's side.

 

“And what of the Urashima?” asked the man, his tone just short of spiteful.

 

“My sister will be assisting me this morning,” Tsuruko said, still calm and polite.

 

“Assist you? In the morning drills?” asked the man, frowning slightly.

 

“This morning we will not be performing the drills,” Tsuruko said, some of the civility draining from her voice. “This morning, I will be assessing if any of you are fit to claim to be practitioners of my family's style.” Her tone at the end was downright cold.

 

-

 

“Kitsune, we need to talk,” Kanako's voice startled the ash-haired fox, making her twitch. Craning her neck around, she saw the younger Urashima woman standing just behind her. She had been working in her room, typing up her final revision of her newest article, when she had been ambushed.

 

“Don't do that, Kanako!” protested Kitsune. Sneaky as a ninja, that Kanako, she thought. She hadn't heard Kanako enter her room, even though she usually noticed anyone near her when she was working.

 

“Interesting, meow,” came a high, strangely-accented voice from her small desk, where her laptop rested. Kitsune reached out, nudging Kuro aside as she closed her laptop.

 

“I don't believe you can read, Kuro,” she said. Hope not, anyway. That would just be too much… she silently added. The large-eared black cat just offered her a toothy smile as he accepted Kitsune's offer of a scratch along his jaw. With a soft tinkle of the bell tied to his tail, he flowed off the table, using Kitsune as a step, across her tatami mat floor, and up to Kanako's shoulder as her mistress knelt. A soft purr came from the cat as he rubbed his jaw against Kanako's cheek before settling down on her shoulder. I swear, he's her familiar, Kitsune thought, watching the cat and Kanako. “So, what brings you to my room, Kanako?”

 

“Two things, one far more important than the other,” the sister wasted no time on small talk. “First, and most important: how do see your relationship with Keitaro?” asked Kanako.

 

Kitsune frowned. “How do I see it?” she mused. Kanako was watching her, her gaze steady and cool. Glancing at Kuro, she could have sworn she saw the cat wink at her from his mistress's shoulder. “See it…” she pursed her lips. “I see me being with him as long as he can put up with me,” she smiled a little.

 

“So you have decided to stop looking, then?” Kanako asked the older woman. Kitsune gave the younger girl a suspicious, thoughtful look.

 

“I don't think there is anyone better out there,” she allowed. “Where are you going with this, Kanako?” she asked directly.

 

Kanako stared the fox in the eyes for a long moment. “If you were offered the chance to be with him formally, in a legal way, would you take that chance?”

 

“Yes,” she replied without the slightest hesitation. “But that can't happen,” she added.

 

“We are not speaking of that right now,” Kanako gave her a strangely-sharp smile. “What I need to know is if you can live with the commitment. I will tell you now that I have some questions as to your ability to bear up under such an arrangement.”

 

Kitsune stared Kanako in the eyes, her own brown eyes opening. “Why not just say what you think, Kanako?” she challenged. “I have my faults, yes,” she continued, “but when I chose to do something, I stick to it - and I resent your suggesting otherwise!” Kanako didn't bat an eyelash. “I never claimed to love Keitaro like Shinobu loves him, but I do love him, and if I had a chance to be married to him, I'd take it in a heartbeat and never look back.”

 

“For the money?” Kanako asked crisply. Kitsune's eyes hardened a little.

 

“The money is attractive,” she said tightly, “but I learned a long time ago that money isn't everything. Stop trying to push my buttons and tell me what this is about, Kanako!” demanded Kitsune.

 

“An issue has come to my attention recently,” shared Kanako. “There may be a chance for you to join with Keitaro legally. I want to be sure it won't be a mistake for Keitaro, his wives, or you.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes,” Kanako said. Kuro's long, bell-tied tail twitched slightly, a soft, faint ting! coming from the bell. “This is already a complicated thing, and if you are not sure you want to be part of it, it is better that you remain unattached so you can leave if you choose to. If things work as anticipated, you would be legally bound to the group, and leaving would prove…problematic, if not impossible,” warned Kanako. Kitsune considered that. “Are you interested?” baited Kanako.

 

“Yes, I'm interested,” Kitsune said softly, meeting Kanako's gaze.

 

“Very well. As for the second thing I need to discuss with you…” began Kanako. Kitsune frowned.

 

“Hey! What is this chance you were talking about?” she wanted to know. Kanako flipped a small, graceful hand.

 

“We will discuss some other time,” dismissed Kanako.

 

“You come in here and get my hopes up, then don't tell me anything?” Kitsune complained. Kanako offered her a small, one-shouldered shrug.

 

“Life is like that sometimes, Kitsune. Deal with it,” suggested the girl, a faint hint of a smirk on her lips. Kitsune bit back some choice curses, insults and slurs. Doubtlessly what she is after, the manipulative bitch, thought Kitsune. Even so, the fox woman actually found herself warming up to Kanako, who was a much more worthy opponent in her little games than the others in the Hinata. She's pretty sexy, too, in a psycho kind of way, the slacker found herself thinking, eyeing the Urashima girl.

 

“These articles you are writing,” Kanako's voice interrupted her thoughts. Kitsune blinked.

 

“What about them?” she asked warily.

 

“We need to talk about them and their distribution,” Kanako said evenly.

 

“They're how I make my money, Kanako,” Kitsune began, “and it's not like I'm putting anything in there that could come back on us,” added the girl.

 

“I know,” agreed Kanako, shifting closer to Kitsune and opening her laptop. “It is just that you are not making as much money as you could be making off them,” began Kanako. Kitsune was all ears upon hearing that.

 

“I knew I liked you,” she smiled at Kanako. The Urashima woman gave her a half-smile in return, her expression predatory.

 

-

 

Motoko was breathing deeply, but evenly as she recovered to the ready position, her wooden sword facing her downed opponent. Tsuruko scowled at the senior student sprawled out in the grass. Grass that was looking a little the worse for wear, having had to absorb not only powerful Shinmei-ryu attacks, but dozens of bodies skidding along and over it.

 

“Hold, sister,” Tsuruko said. The elder sister and heir to the Aoyama stood to the side of the battle ground, her own bokken resting against her shoulder. “How many is that?” she asked, her tone slightly curious.

 

“Twenty one, sister,” Motoko answered, pacing her breathing. This is more tiring than I thought it would be, she noted. Holding back or not, I have never gone against so many with skills similar to mine in a session, she considered. Shifting her eyes slightly, she studied the amassed school of her family style. One third down, how many more to go? she wondered. I can see several who will not need to be hit so hard, those whom my sister trained and some who I have sparred with in the past, but others are clearly eager to test my skills to their limits, the younger sister thought.

 

To her right, Tsuruko stood at the `head' of the assembly, her place as senior master of the school. Behind her and to the side, Keitaro was watching silently as Motoko systematically pounded down fellow swordsmen as Tsuruko called them out. It seemed to him that Tsuruko was calling them in order of senior-most to junior-most. Looking at his wife, Keitaro wondered if she shouldn't take a break. Her face is shiny with sweat, and she's breathing harder than usual, he noticed. “Um,” he began, speaking softly, “maybe it's time for a break?”

 

Tsuruko turned her head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “In a bit,” she murmured. “Don't worry,” she added, “Motoko is fine.”

 

“O…ok,” Keitaro replied. He really didn't want a free overseas flight, so he let it go. Looking back at his wife, he found her looking at him. Her lips were curved in a soft smile, and her eyes were clear and bright.

 

“It's nothing, Keitaro,” she said, smiling wider to show some tooth, “Not much different from daily drills, in fact,” she added. Keitaro blinked when Motoko winked at him. From the assembled school - sitting stiffly on the grass, as if they were in the dojo - some angry muttering could be heard. What are they doing? wondered Keitaro.

 

“Silence,” ordered Tsuruko, her tone hard and cold. “Yojiro, Tatsuya, pick up Hamatsu. Place him with the others,” she directed. Along the far walkway, Motoko previous victims were laid out, not unlike a row of corpses, though Keitaro was sure that Motoko hadn't killed any of her fellow swordsmen. Besides, her techniques never killed me, so how badly hurt could they be? he reasoned. “Twenty one of our school have proven to be less than they should be,” the elder sister addressed the group. “Why is this?” she asked, raising her voice slightly.

 

Silence was all she got. “Daizaburo,” Tsuruko said. Her great uncle stood and approached her. “You have directed the training of our members,” Tsuruko addressed him. “Have you anything to say about this dismal performance from the senior members of our school?”

 

“I do not,” he replied, meeting Tsuruko's gaze.

 

“I see,” Tsuruko said. Flicking her hand, she dismissed him. “Tojima,” she called. The head of the council before she disbanded it stood and approached her. “Have you anything to say about the failures of the students under your care?”

 

“To be defeated by one of the Aoyama lineage is not a loss, Tsuruko-san,” he said tightly. “After all,” he continued, his jaw muscles flexing as he controlled his tongue, “there are seven hidden techniques that only yourself and that Urashima know.”

 

“My sister has yet to need to use any of the higher arts of the Shinmei-ryu school,” Tsuruko countered, sounding almost bored. “Against senior students of the school, that is most unexpected; and disappointing,” she finished coldly. “What have you to say?”

 

“The time and attention necessary to administer the school has apparently left insufficient time for personal instruction. My apologies, Tsuruko-san,” he bowed to her stiffly.

 

“Administrating the school,” mused Tsuruko. Shaking her head, she clucked her tongue. “Such an oversight,” she mourned. “Positions,” she ordered. Tojima twitched before turning to face Motoko, who was already at the ready position. “Impress us with your worthiness,” Tsuruko suggested, raising her hand.

 

“Keitaro-san?” a soft voice came from behind Keitaro, making him flinch.

 

“Ah, um, yes?” he asked, seeing a young girl of the household staff kneeling behind him. He hadn't heard her approach, being too focused on the scene before him. The girl offered him a cordless phone on her palms.

 

“You have a phone call, Keitaro-san,” she said softly. Picking up the phone, Keitaro gulped, wondering what catastrophe was about to befall him.

 

“Urashima,” he said.

 

“Enjoying the show?” came a teasing voice. “I didn't think Mo-chan knew the meaning of the word `restraint' until now,” added the caller.

 

“Wha…why are you…?” began Keitaro.

 

“Hmm, just running an errand, Kei-kun,” the caller replied.

 

“But, if you are here,” began Keitaro.

 

“Never mind that,” dismissed the caller. “I need you to give your wife and concubine a message for me.”

 

“A message? Can't you tell them yourself?” he wondered, feeling a rush of air pressure and hearing a cry of terror as Tojima was knocked back like a leaf. Instead of crumpling like the others had, he managed to right himself, his bokken held in a guard position.

 

“And spoil their fun? No, we couldn't do that,” laughed the party.

 

“But…!”

 

“Listen, Kei-kun,” the amusement was gone from the caller's voice, “this is something they must deal with themselves. We can only help them from the sidelines. That is why you are there, after all.”

 

“I don't understand,” Keitaro almost pleaded. “What am I supposed to do?”

 

“Why,” a new voice came over the phone, “you're supposed to support your women. And do whatever your wife and concubine tell you to do!” The line went dead, leaving Keitaro perplexed and more confused than ever.

 

“Crap! They never told me what to tell them!” he gasped.

 

-

 

“Well, sister?” asked Tsuruko, surveying the carnage before her. The mid-day sun shone down on the Aoyama estate, and Keitaro was getting hungry. His wife and concubine had pushed the members of their family's style right through breakfast, Motoko pounding down member after member, pausing only so Tsuruko could address the group. Her words were never complimentary and often bordered on insult.

 

Twice, Tsuruko had delivered fairly lengthy treatises on the core values of the style, as well as the importance of those values in regard to development. During these two relatively long speeches, Motoko had drank some water and wiped off her face, neck, arms and hands with a towel one of the household staff brought to her. Even with the breaks, Motoko had been going for nearly six hours straight.

 

“I think we are done,” Motoko said, thoughtfully tapping the back of her bokken against her collarbone. “For the moment, anyway,” she added ominously.

 

“I agree,” Tsuruko nodded slightly. “We must discuss the problems we have found in our school,” she observed to her sister. “I am not happy with what I have seen this morning,” she addressed the battered and worn members of the school. “While my sister and I discuss how best to rectify these short-coming, I expect all of you to meditate in the dojo. Ask yourself why it is that you seek to become a Shinmei-ryu practitioner. Tomorrow morning, assemble here once more, and your swordsmanship will tell me what you learned of yourself today. Dismissed,” she finished, giving them a shallow bow. The group - or more accurately, those who still could - bowed to her as she and Motoko moved toward the living area of the huge estate house, collecting Keitaro as they went.

 

“Are you feeling ok, Mo-chan?” asked Keitaro, absently touching her arm. Motoko smiled at him, her eyes bright.

 

“Of course, Keitaro,” she answered him. Her stomach growled a little. “Well, I suppose I am hungry,” she admitted, laughing softly.

 

“Me, too,” he replied.

 

“Then, let's see if we can get some food before we clean up,” Tsuruko suggested, leading them down a different walkway. Before he knew it, they were sitting down as the staff began to dish up some food for the three. As they ate, the three talked of little things, Keitaro awed by the display of skill and endurance that Motoko had put on.

 

“It was nothing, really,” Motoko demurred, “though I admit to being a little stiff and sore, now that I am cooling down,” she said, shifting slightly.

 

“Then perhaps we should visit the springs,” Tsuruko suggested.

 

“Sounds like a good idea, sister,” Motoko agreed eagerly.

 

Finished with their meal, the three made their way to their room, Motoko and Tsuruko undressing in preparation for a soak in the spring. Keitaro couldn't help but admire their physiques, his dick snapping to attention as he watched. Both women noticed his attention; and both of them appreciated it. “Keitaro,” Motoko said, dropping her bindings as she stepped over to him, “could you help me with something?” she asked.

 

“Of course, Mo-chan,” he agreed, unconsciously licking his lips. “What do you need?”

 

Motoko pulled him to her for a kiss. “I need you,” she breathed, her body hot in his hands. Motoko had been horny before the exercise in the courtyard, and to her pleasant surprise, she had found that beating down the men Tsuruko had called out as her husband watched had only fed her arousal. She knew that even now, her panties - lying on the floor - were more than a little damp, and her nipples had been visible even through her wraps.

 

“Mo-chan,” began Keitaro, only to have Motoko kiss him again. Using her hands, she hurriedly unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, tugged the zipper down and nearly thrust her hands into his boxers to gasp his hard dick. Working the cotton undergarment off his length, Motoko rubbed her soft lower belly against the tip, feeling the spongy crown tickle her skin. Keitaro hissed in pleasure.

 

“Keitaro,” breathed Motoko, breaking the kiss to stare into his eyes. She gave him another smile, leaning down to touch her forehead to his. I keep forgetting that I'm taller than him, she thought briefly. Sinking down, she dragged his tip along her naked body from her pubic arch to her lips. Looking up at him, she licked her lips, his now-seeping tip just below her luscious lips.

 

“Mo-chan, you don't have to…” rasped Keitaro.

 

“I know,” she agreed, leering at him as she extended her tongue to lap at his crown, “but I want to,” she said before opening her mouth and engulfing his crown. Keitaro sighed happily, closing his eyes. When he looked down at her, he found her looking up at him as she sucked his dick. Motoko is actually giving me a blow-job, thought the young man. Of all the girls, I could never picture Motoko doing this with me; or any man, for that matter! he thought, his hands caressing her shiny black hair, gently holding her head, but not trying to control her or force himself into her mouth.

 

Tsuruko watched, smiling a little. She could feel her own arousal growing, just watching. Motoko has certainly come a long way, thought the elder sister proudly. From hating men and believing them to all be perverts, to eagerly sucking her husband's dick in less than three years. And not only that, but she competed for him, too! Keitaro, I must thank you for saving my sister from herself. And I think I know just the way to thank you, too… her smile was positively lecherous.

 

As she started to step toward the two, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she saw that the door to their room was open a finger-width. She had been sure it was closed. Frowning slightly, she started to reach for her sword, but stopped, re-considering. This could prove to work in our favor, considered Tsuruko. Looking back at Motoko and Keitaro, she smiled once more. Oh, this will definitely work to our advantage! she decided.

 

Motoko was kneeling before Keitaro, hungrily sucking his dick, his hands on her head, while Motoko rested her palms on his hips. Her left hand - and the wedding ring on it - faced the door as she happily bobbed her head. Drool was seeping from her lips to drip from her chin, landing un-heeded on her breasts, wet sucking sounds mixing with Keitaro's sighs and grunts. Tsuruko peeked at the door again, pretending to be watching the two, but in reality keeping her eye on the door.

 

“Mo-chan,” rasped Keitaro, panting. She nodded as best as she could with a mouthful of man meat. Sucking in a breath, Keitaro thrust his hips forward, his sack tightening. “Ugh!” he grunted, firing his load down Motoko's throat. Her little sister determinedly held him deep in her mouth, swallowing loudly “Kami, Mo-chan,” panted the young man as the last spurt filled her mouth. Motoko lovingly swallowed before slowly pulling her head back, his softening member slipping free of her mouth as she did so. For a moment, a few ropy strands of cum and drool linked his tip to her lips.

 

“Keitaro,” Motoko breathed, coughing slightly. Keitaro stroked her head.

 

“Thanks, Motoko,” he replied, sounding a little dazed, “that was just perfect.” His fingers brushed her cheeks, and she leaned back in to kiss his tip.

 

“I'm glad you approve, my husband,” murmured Motoko, still kneeling almost humbly before him. She smiled warmly at him. “And we still have tonight, too,” she whispered, making his mostly-softened dick twitch.

 

“Now that you have tended to our Keitaro-sama's needs,” Tsuruko's voice interrupted the moment, “let's get cleaned up and have that talk,” she suggested. Motoko nodded, rising smoothly.

 

“Um, are you sure you wouldn't like me to return the favor?” asked Keitaro, eyeing the shiny wetness between Motoko's thighs. Motoko shivered slightly, but not in distaste.

 

“If you want, I will not stop you,” she said, looking at him, “but we would be less rushed tonight, my husband,” she pointed out. Keitaro considered that, his eyes drifting to Tsuruko's naked form.

 

“Good point,” he breathed. Tsuruko stepped to Motoko's side, the two of them nearly immediately stripping him.

 

“For now, let's relax in the springs,” suggested the elder sister. As Motoko and she reached for their robes and bath basket, Motoko spotted the slightly-open door. Looking at her big sister, she saw Tsuruko nod slightly. After a moment of thought, Motoko's lips curved into a smug, evil smile.