"Umm, please take your hand off my cock, miss Ayane," Makoto groaned, rubbing himself harder against her hand despite his words. "I feel what we're doing is unfaithful."
Ayane let out a husky chuckle that vibrated against his back. But she didn't stop. Her grip tightened, her other hand coming up to gently cup and massage his balls, her touch soapy and slick.
"Take my hand off?" she purred, her voice thick with amusement. "But sir, you're rubbing against my hand. It seems your body is telling a very different story than your mouth."
She leaned in closer, her lips practically touching his ear. "A faithful husband wouldn't be this hard," she whispered, her voice a venomous temptation. "He wouldn't be leaking all over my hand like this."
Ayane gave Makoto's cock a long, slow pump from base to tip, her thumb spreading the bead of pre-cum over the head. He groaned, his hips thrusting involuntarily into her grip.
"This isn't you being unfaithful, sir," she murmured, her voice softening into a conspiratorial whisper. "This is just a premium, confidential stress-relief session. Your wife, or your wives... she doesn't have to know. It's part of the service."
She pumped him faster, her soapy hands working in perfect, maddening tandem. One hand stroked his shaft, the other rolled his balls gently. The friction was heavenly, overwhelming.
"You're just here for a deep therapeutic cleaning," she panted, her own arousal evident in her voice. "And this part, this very tense part… it requires a very deep cleaning technique."
She shifted, her hot, slick body sliding against his back. Her voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "Stop trying to fight it, sir! We both know you want this and need this." She nipped at his earlobe. "Now, be a good boy and let me finish the job. I want that five-star review."
Makoto's breath shortened, his cock throbbing violently in her hand. "Don't… don't tell my wife, please."
Makoto's plea was the final consent she needed. "Your secret is safe with me, sir," Ayane purred, her voice a silken promise that sounded completely untrustworthy. She loved this, seeing him broken and begging.
The slow, teasing pace escalated. Her hand became a blur of slick, soapy motion, pumping his cock with a fast, tight grip. Her other hand gently squeezed his balls, a constant pleasurable pressure that drove him wild.
"That's it," she whispered, her voice raw with desire. "Don't hold back. Let it all go! Give me that good review." She pressed her entire body against his back, her slick breasts rubbing against him with every pump of her hand.
Her breath was hot and ragged in his ear. "Let go, Makoto," she taunted, her voice a low growl. "I want to feel your cock pulse in my hand. I want to see you make a mess all over this floor."
The friction was too much. Ayane's hot body against Makoto's back, her expert hands working his cock, the thrill of the forbidden roleplay, all of it crashed together and dragged him over the edge.
With a loud, guttural groan, he exploded. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot from his cock, splattering onto the wooden deck in front of him. His whole body convulsed, his hips bucking wildly as Ayane milked him for every last drop, her hand never stopping its relentless rhythm.
"Yesss…" she hissed in triumph, watching him cum. "That's it, such a good boy."
As the last tremor subsided, she finally released him. Makoto slumped bonelessly in the chair, gasping for air, spent.
Ayane stood up, admiring her handiwork. She looked down at the mess on the floor, then at him with a grin on her face. "Package A is complete," she declared, her voice satisfied and smug. "I believe that deserves a glowing review, don't you, sir?"
"Yeah, that deserves some generous tips and a five-star review, miss Ayane," Makoto sighed playfully, pulling her gently. "Was that fun?"
Ayane burst out laughing, making a loud laugh that echoed in the night air. She let him pull her into the hot water, immediately splashing against him playfully.
"Fun?" she grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist under the water. "Oh my god, Makoto, fun doesn't even begin to cover it. That was one of the top five hottest things we've ever done. Maybe the top three."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, her wet cheek against his. "Watching you try to play the faithful husband while your cock was practically begging for my hand?" She let out a happy, contented sigh. "That was incredible. And the way you pleaded with me? So hot. You're a terrible actor, Makoto, but I love it."
She kissed his neck, a lingering kiss that was different from the teasing ones before. "And yeah, it was really fun," she murmured, her voice softer and more sincere now. "The perverted roleplay stuff is just how my brain is wired. I love the game, the risk, the thrill of it."
"But the reason it feels amazing is... because it's with you." She pulled back, looking him in the eye, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief and genuine affection.
"Besides," she added, a sly grin returning to her face. "I had to get back at you for that restroom proposal. A girl can't just let her fiancé one-up her like that without a counter-attack."
She splashed a handful of water at Makoto's face. "Now, about that generous tip you mentioned, I believe the Platinum Deep Penetration Service still needs a thorough review." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Tomorrow, after Mika has her turn and you're all tired out. My revenge will be slow and sweet."
After the humming Ayane left, Makoto slowly got out and put on the sleeping yukata provided by the ryokan. "Well, seems like their libidos don't die down even with the pregnancy," he muttered to himself. "Hope I can survive until then…"
He walked back to their room, curious about the sleep arrangements. As he slid the door open, the first thing he saw was the scene of a crime. The four futons were laid out on the floor. Three were arranged in a neat row near the far wall. The fourth, his futon, was in the far left.
And in the futon directly next to his, looking as calm and victorious as a queen on her throne, was Mika. She was already lying down with a book in hand, wearing a simple, elegant silk pajama set. She looked up and gave him a small grin. "Ah, darling," she said, closing her book. "You're back. I trust your batch was refreshing?"
"She cheated!" a voice shrieked from the far right of the room. Yuna was sitting on her futon, which was a whole two bodies away from Makoto, pouting so hard her face could curdle milk. She was in the ryokan's sleeping yukata. "She used some weird, super-advanced scissors-rock-paper technique she learned from an old kung fu movie! It's not fair! I demand a rematch!!"
"It is called strategy, Yuna," Mika said smoothly, not even looking at her. "Perhaps if you spent less time pouting and more time observing, you wouldn't lose so predictably."
In the futon between Yuna and Mika, Mafuyu was already curled up under her blanket, looking like a happy, contented cat. She beamed at Makoto. "Welcome back, honey!" she whispered happily. "I lost to Mika, but that's okay! It's cozy over here!"
And in the futon furthest from him, right next to Yuna, was Ayane. She was lying on her stomach, her chin propped up on her hands, grinning like a Cheshire cat. The yukata wrapped her figure beautifully. "Hey, boss," she purred, her voice carrying across the room. "Have a good bath?" She winked at him.
"Don't talk to him, you pervert!" Yuna hissed, throwing a pillow at her, which missed.
"There, there," Mika said, patting the empty space on the futon next to her. "Don't listen to them, darling. Come to bed. Your second wife has won her right to a good night's sleep."
"I think she won because you're just easy to read, Yuna," Makoto said, lying down on his futon.
Yuna looked like she was about to spontaneously combust. "Easy to read?! WHO ARE YOU CALLING EASY TO READ, YOU FAT PIG?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing in the room.
She tried to launch her other pillow at him, but her hand was grabbed by a laughing Ayane next to her. "He's right, Yunnie," Ayane giggled, hugging the pillow. "You always do rock when you're angry. It's super predictable."
"I DID NOT!" Yuna screeched, flailing on her futon like an overturned beetle.
"He is right, Yuna," Mika said calmly, her voice a low, soothing purr against Makoto's ear. She kissed his jawline. "You telegraph your next move like a foghorn. It's endearing and cute in its own way."
Yuna let out a furious, wordless shriek of frustration and pulled her blanket over her head, becoming a grumpy, angry lump in the corner. Mika ignored her. She looked up at Makoto, her pink eyes soft in the dim light.
"I bet no one can win against Mika in Rock, Paper, Scissors anyway, especially us." He hugged Mika and kissed her forehead.
As he lay down, Mika melted into his arms with a contented sigh, as if this had been the plan all along. She rested her head on his chest, her hand tracing lazy circles on his stomach. "Thank you, darling," she whispered. "It's nice to be appreciated for my skills."
Mika snuggled closer, pulling the blanket up over both of them. Their shared warmth felt like a small private world, earned through her victory. "Good night, everyone. Try not to be too loud with your jealousy. Some of us need our beauty sleep before tomorrow's activities."
The night passed in a strange, quiet breathing. Mika slept with stillness, her possessive grip on Makoto's arm never loosening. From her corner, he could hear Yuna's occasional muffled grumbles in her sleep, probably dreaming of winning Rock, Paper, Scissors and banishing Mika to the futon by the door.
Mafuyu was a quiet, happy lump, and Ayane snored softly with a satisfied smile still on her face. The room feels chaotic and crowded, but warm, and somehow exactly right.
Little did Makoto know that someone might have overheard what happened in his private bath, and rumors about Tokiwa Ryokan's "special service" were starting to spread. But that was a story for another time. For now, he just tried to enjoy a peaceful sleep.