I’d worry about it later.
When I slid her panties aside and inserted, there was that familiar, sticky, warm, and pleasant sensation—her tight, velvety walls gripping me perfectly.
My penis’s “my home.” I truly feel that Kumiko’s pussy is the designated storage place for my penis.
I could feel goosebumps rising on my spine from the sheer pleasure as her inner muscles fluttered around me.
“Uuu…!
Aah…!” Kumiko moaned in response to my insertion.
Perhaps because she had been teased so much today, she didn’t hide her voice as much as usual.
There was also the fact that no one was around.
Usually, we use positions where Kumiko spreads her legs wide, but today, although her legs were open, they were somewhat narrower, so I was desperate to hold back my own moans.
Kumiko, perhaps excited by the expression I made as I tried to stifle my moans, tightened her flesh palace even further.
At that, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Aaaaaahhhhhh!” I let out a loud, unsightly cry and came.
Dopyu-dopyudopyu-, dopyuyupyu-, dopyupyupyu.
Dopyudopyudopyu-!
I ejaculated longer than usual, my pulse raced, and a thrilling numbness soared through my spine and body.
Goosebumps rose, and I felt my brain being forcibly filled with the euphoria of “ejaculating into my girl’s womb,” exposing my unsightly face as thick ropes of cum flooded her depths.
“D-don’t come yet…!
I-I’m also coming…!
I’m co-cominnnnngggg!!!!” Perhaps because her vagina was strongly stimulated by my powerful, jet-like ejaculation—which was more forceful than usual—Kumiko also let out a moan that lacked her usual composure, screaming just as loud as me as she came grandly, her small body convulsing violently in my arms.
In front of me, I could see her spine trembling, goosebumps rising all over her fair skin, and her face flushing deeply, her short hair sticking to her sweaty forehead.
I found Kumiko so unbearably precious that I kissed her forcefully.
“Mmmmmmmmmm—!” Kumiko seemed to have no composure left and tried to grab my head to pull me away, but I didn’t let go, and instead, I smothered her mouth with a kiss.
To deliver a follow-up blow, I forcibly intruded into Kumiko’s mouth, licking her gums and teeth with my tongue, and overrunning her tongue with mine in a sloppy, deep kiss.
Saturated with pleasure, Kumiko used even more strength to forcibly pull my head away.
“Haa…
haa…” With a rare expression that lacked composure, Kumiko looked at me reproachfully.
“I thought I was going to die from lack of oxygen while coming…
What would you do if I died in such an embarrassing way…?” Even as she said that, she looked happy.
“I…
I didn’t think I’d come so intensely…” Saying that, she wiped her mouth—which had been kissed all over by me—with her sleeve.
Those plump, fair, and beautiful lips were soaking wet with saliva.
The beautiful girl was ruined.
I wiped Kumiko’s mouth with the handkerchief I had.
“S-slow sex…
contrary to the name, it was so intense…” “I suppose so…” I was surprised, too.
We got greedy halfway through and couldn’t hold back until the target time, but I wonder what would happen if we actually managed to endure until the very end.
But even doing it halfway was effective.
————Every time I caught sight of Kumiko, she looked like she was glowing.
————— In December, a month so busy that even the masters are said to run, Kumiko and I were riding a motorcycle through the whistling cold wind.
Kitauji High School, which is seriously aiming for the nationals, practices as hard as a powerhouse school, and breaks are literally only during Obon and the New Year.
They seem to have New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day off, but there’s no such thing as the first three days of the year; practice starts at school on January 2nd.
After entering this high school, Kumiko and I—influenced by Kousaka and our advisor—have been seriously dedicated to practice without rest.
And although I have almost no leisure time, I had been composing a new song in the gaps between club activities.
Fortunately, I have all the home-recording equipment I need, so I just borrowed a drummer and a vocalist from among my acquaintances to record the song.
Of course, they were temporary vocals.
Decisions about who actually sings the song tend to be dictated to me.
Then, I caught the eye of a TV producer who likes me, and things moved along smoothly into a drama tie-in, which the public liked, and—lo and behold!
It became a decent hit.
This kind of business is a world of death unless there is glory.
While I had glory, there was a hobby I wanted to try my hand at.
For me, that was motorcycles.
And with a sidecar, no less!
Something so far removed from rationality is entirely within the realm of a hobby.
It costs more to maintain than a car, requires practice to master the handling of a sidecar, and on top of that, has less cargo capacity than a car.
Because of that, most motorcycle manufacturers have withdrawn from making sidecars.
A major American manufacturer had been making official ones with obsession, but even they withdrew, and now there are only a few workshops that specialize in them.
Actually, I wanted a copy of a German-captured motorcycle from World War II that bore the name of a great Russian mountain range, but those motorcycles are single-wheel drive, and the sidecar motorcycle I wanted is two-wheel drive, so you can only ride it with a standard four-wheel car license.
So, I had no choice but to pay a lot of money to buy a regular motorcycle that had been modified with a sidecar.
An extra million yen had easily vanished, but I find myself unable to stop giving myself “rewards” based on the results achieved through this work.
The incompleteness of having rewards but no punishment for oneself— —is somewhat paradoxical.
Using the motorcycle I had finally obtained as an excuse, I decided to take Kumiko out for some “outdoor shut-in time.”