The woman came downstairs and found a man sitting on the sofa, eyes fixed on the television.
He was around thirty, handsome in a refined way, with carefully styled hair streaked by a few strands of white that somehow made him look even more attractive.
She froze for a second, genuinely surprised. Stepping in front of him, she asked, "You’re home this early, hubby?"
He turned his gaze to her—his dear, hot, sexy wife—and answered calmly, "Yes. I came early because I wasn’t feeling well."
"What happened, dear?"
Still stunned, she approached, pressed the back of her hand gently against his forehead, and looked at him with real worry.
"Nothing serious. Just a headache. I took a pill. I’m fine now."
"You’re really okay? Should we go to the hospital?" she pressed, concern still clear in her voice.
He sighed, stood up, and pulled her into a warm hug. "I’m okay, dear. It was only a small headache... and I was feeling quite lonely too. So I thought, why not take my wife out somewhere tonight? That’s why I came home early."
His hands slid down and firmly squeezed her plump, busty ass. A soft moan slipped from her lips.
~Ahhm... darling. Sora is still home.
He kept one arm wrapped around her waist while the other continued to knead and fondle her soft, heavy cheeks. Leaning in, he whispered against her ear, voice low and intimate, "So what? He’s old enough to know what happens between a married couple."
He pinched one cheek harder.
~Nhhggm... darling... we can’t...
Heat was already rising in her body. She leaned up toward his mouth, wanting a deep, hungry kiss. Just as their lips were about to meet, he pulled back, sat down on the sofa again, and smiled. "Well, if you’re saying that... then I’ll stop."
Huff... huff...
She stood there breathing heavily, skin flushed, body growing hotter by the second.
When she saw him casually turning back to the television as if nothing had happened, she couldn’t take it. She walked over and settled onto his lap, the soft weight of her ass pressing warm and heavy against the growing hardness beneath his pants.
She looped her arms around his neck and whispered right against his ear, "Darling... don’t leave me like this... I... I don’t mind..."
"We haven’t done this for so long... why not now?" she murmured, leaning in again for a kiss. This time his palm came up and covered her mouth, stopping her.
She stared at him, shocked.
Confusion flickered through her. Why was he refusing her kiss? Then her heart suddenly thudded hard. Wait... did he see what happened upstairs? Does he think my mouth is dirty?
Her pulse raced. Thoughts spun wildly. Before she could spiral further, a soft, heated whisper brushed her ear—full of love and unmistakable lust.
"Wait for me tonight. In our bedroom. I’ll take you to the moon."
His warm breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Then both of his hands rose and squeezed her massive K-cup breasts tightly—so full they overflowed his palms.
"Ding Dong."
"Ding Dong."
The doorbell cut through the moment. She quickly stood up from his lap.
Just as she turned toward the door, his hand cracked lightly against her ass—nghhmmmmm—and he watched with open appreciation as the soft flesh jiggled beneath her long brown skirt.
The door opened. A girl around eighteen walked in. Blonde hair, dark eyes. White shirt with the top three buttons undone, the edge of her bra faintly visible. Blue skirt, jacket tied around her waist that did little to hide the curve of her hips and the full swell of her butt.
Big breasts, plump ass. Every step made her chest bounce, drawing the eye whether anyone wanted to look or not. At first glance she might have seemed like an attention-seeking slut. But she wasn’t. She was simply the new type that had started appearing everywhere lately—a gyaru girl.
She kicked her shoes off carelessly the moment she stepped inside, not bothering to place them properly. Walking straight past her mother, she headed for the sofa, tossed her bag onto the cushion beside the man, and dropped herself directly onto his lap.
"Papa, don’t you think you’re home early today?"
His arms immediately circled her waist, holding her securely so she wouldn’t slide off.
"Hmm. Don’t you think you forgot something today?" he murmured against her ear, her blonde hair brushing his face.
"Hmm... I don’t think so," she answered, tapping one finger thoughtfully against her pink lips.
"Hmm. Then okay." He simply nodded.
"Papa, I wanted to call you... and ask for some money. You see... there was this new dress I saw at the mall. I really wanted it, so... would you please give me some money?" she asked in that deliberately cute, soft voice.
"Hmm... I don’t think so," he replied.
Her eyes widened a little. She turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek with those pink lips, leaving a faint lipstick mark.
"I gave you a kiss, so now please give me the money," she said, voice turning a little desperate.
The man smiled. "How about I go with you instead? Whatever dress you want, I’ll buy it for you."
"And not only that—I’ll get you another pair of shoes as well."
"Reallyyyyyy?" Excitement lit up her face.
"Yes."
"Thankkkkk youuuu!" She hugged him tightly around the neck.
"But you have to promise me something first."
She pulled back just enough to look at him, already sounding annoyed. "Ahhhh... whattt?"
"You have to take care of your shoes. The way you just threw them aside was wrong. Your mother has enough work to do. Don’t make her clean up after you."
"Ahhmmm..." she muttered, nodding while looking away.
"Did you actually listen? Or should I cancel everything?"
"Yesssss!" she said loudly.
"Okay, okay. Go freshen up first. Come down and eat something. You’re getting thin like you’re on some diet. You won’t get a boyfriend looking like that."
"Ahhh... Papa, you’re teasing me again," she pouted cutely, then hopped off his lap and ran upstairs to her room.
The woman came over and sat beside him, taking his hand in both of hers with a soft smile. "You’re spoiling her too much."
"She’s my daughter. Why shouldn’t I spoil her?" he answered, looking straight into her bright, dazzling eyes.
"Honey..."
Her body seemed to melt. She leaned into him, resting her hand on his chest and laying her head over his heart, eyes closing as she soaked in his warmth.
"Even though she isn’t your blood..." she whispered so quietly it was almost to herself. Maybe she was only thinking it, or maybe she wanted to ask but couldn’t quite say it out loud.
He heard every word.
His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer until her soft body was pressed firmly against his broad, hard chest. He stroked her back slowly and spoke in a low, gentle voice. "Never say that again, dear. She is my daughter. Not only her—your other four daughters are mine too. They are ours. I’m their dad. You’re their mom. And it’s both my duty and my joy as a father to spoil all my cute daughters."
A single tear slipped down her cheek. Then another. Then more.
Hic~Hic~Hic
"You’re crying, baby... why?"
He felt the wetness on his shirt and the soft sound of her sobs. Quickly, carefully, he wiped the tears away with his thumb. "What happened, dear? Did I say something wrong?"
"No... hic... I just... I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a husband like you... someone who loves me this much... and accepts my family... hic... hic... Everyone always says I have too much of a burden... they call my daughters a burden... and now they call me a slut for ’forcing’ my daughters onto youuuu... hic... hic... I’ve always felt hurt by that... and I know my daughters feel it too even if they never say it... hic... hic... I’m not a good mother... I know that... but... but..."
"Shhh."
He placed a finger gently against her lips. "First of all, they are my family too. They are not a burden—to you or to me. They are blessings heaven gave us. I always wanted a daughter, and now look—I have five of them. Do I look sad? Do I look like I lack money? Do I treat them like strangers?"
"No... no... You’re not a stranger at all. You treat them with more love and care than even I do sometimes... hic... hic..."
He shook his head and covered her hand with his own where it rested on his chest.
"Don’t compare my love for them with yours. I’m nothing next to you. You gave birth to them."
Still holding her hand, he guided it slowly down from his chest to her stomach. "You carried each of them for nine months. You went through the pain of creating life inside your body more than three and a half years in total. I’m only a man. I can’t truly understand how much it hurt when you gave birth... but I know it was the worst kind of pain. You endured that five times... and then you raised them into strong, beautiful young women all by yourself. You sacrificed your own dreams, your youth... You really think my love could ever compare to that? So please never say your love for them is less. To them, you are their goddess. And to me... you are my goddess."
"Sob... sob... sob... hic... hic... hic..."
She cried harder, soaking the front of his white shirt while he simply held her and stroked her back, giving her the time she needed to let everything out.
After a while he spoke again, voice soft. "And whoever talks about it—just ignore them. Treat them like dogs barking. You don’t speak dog, so let them bark. And your daughters? They’re sharp. Not like my dull son who stays locked in his room all day."
A small, watery laugh escaped her. "Hehe... hic... hic... don’t say that about our son. He’s still young. He’ll get better. Just give him time."
She lifted her head, looked up at him with wet eyes, and smiled. "And you know what? He even got a girlfriend one week ago. Hehehe."
His eyebrows rose. "He... got a girlfriend?"
"What? You don’t believe me?" She made an angry little face that was still somehow cute.
"How could I not believe you? Maybe he really did find a girl. He’s at that age."
"Youu... you really don’t believe me." She tried to playfully hit his chest, but he caught her wrist easily.
He chuckled. "Okay, okay. I really believe you. Hahaha."
"But don’t punch my weak old chest. This body can’t take it."
"You’re old? Then what am I?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
"Hmm... you are..."
His hands suddenly closed around her enormous K-cup breasts—breasts so large they were bigger than his face. He squeezed them firmly, fingers sinking deep into the soft, dough-like flesh.
~Nhghhhm...
"You are my wife. As sexy as a lust goddess, as hot as a frying pan with melting butter, and as sweet as my favorite candy. Mmm... that’s why I want to eat you so badly."
With that, he turned her body and pushed her down onto the sofa.
~Ahh...
She landed on the thick, luxurious cushions. The soft bounce didn’t hurt her at all—instead it sent a pleasant, springy sensation through her body.
He watched her breasts bounce and jiggle heavily under her top, then climbed over her. One hand braced beside her head while the other slowly, deliberately began sliding her top upward.