In a vast, deserted campsite where frost columns lined the ground, we had pitched our tent, and I was lying with Kumiko.
We were flirting, kissing as we lay side-by-side, touching each other’s genitals with our hands.
I had unbuckled Kumiko’s belt and inserted my index and middle fingers inside her, enjoying the sensation of the thick, syrupy love juice seeping out with a squelching sound.
Kumiko’s body was petite yet beautifully proportioned—small, soft B-cup breasts with sensitive pink nipples, a slim waist, and smooth, fair skin that flushed easily.
Her short, neatly styled hair framed her cute face, which was now twisted in pleasure.
Whenever I grazed her G-spot deep inside, Kumiko’s voice would permeate the silence of the campsite—where no one existed but us—with a soft “Nnuu…!” Kumiko, for her part, was touching my aroused penis with her hand, stroking the skin and feeling the tip.
Despite being made to moan by this thing all the time, she still seemed like she hadn’t quite gotten used to the penis—her small, delicate fingers exploring every throbbing inch.
Is it because we usually have it inserted that she rarely has the chance to actually look at it?
But she gives me blowjobs quite often…?
While thinking about such trivial things, I spent a peaceful time with Kumiko.
What we were doing now was Polynesian sex.
It’s what they call “slow sex.” It refers to sex where you take your time caressing each other slowly, enjoying the process of caressing, talking, and stroking each other more deeply than the actual result of climaxing.
Kumiko and I spent a slow period of time, occasionally talking, caressing, and kissing while gently teasing one another—my fingers slowly pumping in and out of her dripping pussy while she stroked my cock with long, languid movements.
As we did so, we both became quite relaxed.
Forty minutes had already passed, and we were nearing our goal of one hour.
Of course, regarding this act, it requires control to keep oneself and one’s partner aroused so that things don’t wilt.
I wanted to see Kumiko covered in carnal desire, but she seemed to be exercising self-control, as if she understood the stakes.
However, I’ll just pretend I didn’t notice the flames of passion flickering in Kumiko’s eyes every now and then.
Even though we were flirting, Kumiko suddenly started speaking quite meekly.
“…Thank you for bringing me here.” “I don’t mind.
Everyone needs to catch their breath outside once in a while, and I wanted to spend this kind of relaxing time with you, too.” Saying that, I caressed Kumiko’s chest with my free hand while simultaneously caressing her vagina.
Through her clothes, I could feel just the right amount of fat on those delicate breasts—soft and warm, her nipples hardening under my palm.
“Should we take them off?” “It’s fine, isn’t it cold?” The two of us were wrapped in a double sleeping bag.
If we bared our upper bodies, the cold wind that had pierced through the tent and sleeping bag would hit our skin.
Then, Kumiko opened the zipper of her coat and the hoodie she wore underneath, showing me her bra.
At that, my “son” responded by becoming even harder and more honest.
“Liar, it’s so obvious you actually want to do it with me.” Kumiko puffed out her cheeks cutely, putting on an act of being angry.
That expression, different from her usual one, made my heart skip a beat.
Even though Kumiko was only pretending to be mad, my heart was moved deeper than the sea and higher than the mountains.
I suppose that’s what they call being “weak for the one you love.” Kumiko, completely unaware of how much my heart was being moved, took my hand and placed it on her bra.
——Kumiko’s bra.
It was made of the cheap synthetic fibers typical for a high schooler, but since it was a date, she must have put a lot of effort into it.
Kumiko was wearing the cute and sexy type of “battle lingerie” she always wears when we have sex.
In fact, I touch it all the time, take it off her, am used to seeing it, and I’ve even memorized the brand of bras Kumiko likes.
But the fact that Kumiko—my girlfriend, my lover, and my wife—was taking my hand and making me touch it directly was something I could never get used to.
My heart pounds.
I am captivated by Kumiko.
Unaware of my agony, excitement, and love-struck weakness, Kumiko hid the flames of passion in her eyes and asked me calmly: “Do you want to see?” And so, the “slow sex” vanished far away, and sex began again in the form of me—tempted by Kumiko—pinning her down.
It was clothed sex, with us both wearing our coats.
However, on the side of our lower bodies—the side opposite the opening of the sleeping bag—we had loosened our clothes, and our genitals were already soaking wet and squelching.
Pre-cum was overflowing from me endlessly, and Kumiko’s love juice was overflowing even more than mine.
The bodily fluids we produced were being warmed by the electric blanket spread beneath the sleeping bag, and even though we weren’t at home, the familiar scent of Kumiko’s love juice wafted into my nose—thick, sweet, and intoxicating.
Perhaps due to a conditioned reflex, my “son” became more and more ferocious.
While giving Kumiko our usual wild kisses, I forcibly slid her panties aside and inserted myself in one smooth thrust.