Mafuyu shifted on the bench, patting her lap invitingly. The movement made her soft thighs spread slightly under the fabric. "Here," she whispered, her voice thick with affection. "Since we have time, why don't you rest here, Makoto? Use my lap as a pillow. It's a wife's duty to comfort her husband, isn't it?"
She guided Makoto down until his head was resting on her soft, yielding thighs. The smell of her, of vanilla and gentle soap, enveloped him. From this angle, looking up, the view of her face and the swell of her breasts beneath the yukata was magnificent.
"Hey, I can only view half the sky from this angle," Makoto nuzzled his face into Mafuyu's thighs and bosom. "I might get addicted to this, though. You should be selfish like this more often, Mafuyu-nee."
Mafuyu giggled, making a musical sound that vibrated through her thighs and into his head. She seemed delighted by his complaint. "Only half?" she teased softly, her fingers gently combing through his hair, scratching his scalp in just the right way. "Well, that simply won't do, honey."
She leaned forward, bending her waist so her upper body hovered directly over his face. Her long black hair fell down around him like a curtain, blocking out the sunlight, the trees, and the passersby. The only thing in Makoto's field of vision now was her beautiful, flushed face and the massive, soft swell of her cleavage, dangling just inches from his nose.
"There," she whispered, her voice husky and intimate in this small, private tent she'd created. "Now I'm your whole sky. Is that better?"
She traced the line of his jaw with her thumb, her eyes dark and heavy with affection. "If getting you addicted to this is what it takes to keep you coming back to me, then I'll never let you up," she murmured. "I want to be your pillow, your home. I want to be the place you come to when the other girls are too loud or too demanding."
Her face moved closer, her breath washing over his lips. "You said I should be selfish, right?" She paused, her heart beating fast against her ribs, visible beneath the fabric. "Then, for this date, forget everyone else. Don't think about Mika-chan or Yuna-chan. Just look at me, feel me."
She lowered her head further, her lips hovering over his, upside down from his perspective. "Kiss me, Makoto," she pleaded softly. "Kiss me while you're in my lap, like I'm the only woman in the world."
Makoto leaned up to kiss her, holding her head and pushing his lips onto hers for a possessive, passionate kiss.
Mafuyu gasped, making a ragged sound that was immediately swallowed by his mouth. She didn't pull back; instead, she collapsed downward, her body going boneless as she surrendered completely to his possessive hold.
Her hands, which had been caressing his hair, suddenly clenched tight, gripping his scalp and pulling him deeper into her. She opened her mouth eagerly, inviting his tongue in, meeting it with a clumsy passion. She was kissing him with everything she had, worshipful and starving at the same time.
For a long, heated minute, the world outside Mafuyu's curtain of hair ceased to exist. There was only the wet, slick sound of their lips moving together, the taste of her sweet saliva, and the feeling of her soft breasts pressing against his chest as she leaned lower and lower. She whimpered into his mouth, making a needy, pathetic sound that vibrated through her throat and into his.
When Makoto finally released her, Mafuyu didn't move back. She stayed hovering there, her forehead resting against his, her eyes squeezed shut, panting heavily. Her lips were swollen and slick with spit, her face flushed a deep, aroused crimson.
"Hah… hah…" she breathed, her warm breath fanning over his face. "Oh my god…" She opened her eyes slowly. "That was…" She shuddered, a ripple of pleasure running through her body that Makoto could feel against the back of his head. "That was perfect. I felt owned, like I really belong to you, honey."
Mafuyu smiled and used her thumb to gently wipe a trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth, then licked it off her own finger without breaking eye contact. "If being selfish feels this good…" she whispered, leaning down to peck his nose, "I think I might become a very bad girl, honey. I might never let you leave my lap again."
Mafuyu straightened up slightly, smoothing her hair back, though her hands were trembling. "We should probably head back soon," she said, glancing at the sky, though she made no move to let him up. "But… just five more minutes, please? Just let me hold you for five more minutes."
"Yeah, five more minutes," Makoto nuzzled into her belly.
Mafuyu's hands gently covered Makoto's ears, holding his head against her soft, slightly rounded stomach. At two months, the bump was small, barely a swell beneath the fabric of her obi, but to her, it was the center of the universe.
"Can't wait to see our baby. I bet it will be gentle and caring like you, Mafuyu-nee." Makoto grinned.
Mafuyu let out a shaky breath, her fingers threading through his hair. "Gentle and caring…" she repeated his words, her voice sounding like she was about to cry again, this time from sheer happiness. "If the baby turns out like me, I just hope they aren't too timid. I want them to be brave like you."
She pressed his face a little firmer against her belly, as if trying to imprint his warmth onto the tiny life growing inside. "But hearing you say that makes me feel like I can do this," she whispered. "I was so scared at first. Scared I'd mess up. Scared that I wasn't good enough to be the mother of your child. But now…"
She bent down, kissing the top of his head. "I promise I'll be the best mother I can be. I'll make our home warm, and I'll cook delicious meals every day, and I'll make sure you and the baby never know a single moment of cold or loneliness."
The five minutes stretched into ten, then twenty. The sun began to dip lower, casting long golden shadows across the canal. The air grew cooler, but in Mafuyu's lap, Makoto was perfectly warm.
Finally, she gently tapped his shoulder. "Makoto-kun, we really have to go. Mika-chan will be checking her watch. And I don't want to make her angry on such a special night."
Makoto slowly got up, and the loss of her soft lap was immediately felt. Mafuyu stood too, smoothing her yukata, her face glowing with warmth and contentment. She took his arm again, hugging it tightly to her chest. "Thank you for the date," she whispered as they began the walk back to the ryokan. "It was the best afternoon of my life."
"Let's go home then, let's hope Mika's punishment tonight won't be too taxing on me," Makoto giggled, grasping Mafuyu's hand.
Mafuyu giggled, a soft, musical sound, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. "Mika-chan just loves you very much in her own intense way," she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Please be gentle with her tonight. Underneath all that, she's very caring and fragile."
===
Makoto and Mafuyu walked hand-in-hand back toward the main shopping street. The afternoon sun was bleeding into a soft golden twilight. The crowds had thinned, the souvenir shops were pulling down their shutters, and the air was growing cooler. It felt like the quiet, romantic end to a perfect date.
Then, they saw a couple standing near a quiet, upscale-looking bar just off the main street. The woman's posture was achingly familiar: tall, dressed in a stylish trench coat while radiating cold authority.
It was the woman from the shrine. But the man with her wasn't the meek husband they had seen before. He seemed a bit taller, wearing a tailored coat, a dark medical mask, and expensive sunglasses. They stood close, talking in low and urgent tones, casting nervous glances around them.
Mafuyu stopped dead in her tracks, her hand tightening on Makoto's. Her eyes went wide with slow-dawning horror. "Makoto-san, that's her! I'm sure of it," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"It's her eyes. Even from here, I can see they're the same pink as Mika-chan's. And that shape… I've seen her picture on Mika-chan's phone screen saver. That must be her mother."
Makoto's blood ran cold. His protective instincts kicked in, a mix of curiosity and fear for Mika. Without a second thought, he pulled Mafuyu back behind a large display case of local crafts, shielding them both from view.
"What is she doing with him?" Mafuyu whispered, her face pale.
Makoto pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. His private message to Mika was short and to the point:
Makoto: Emergency! By the bar near the old art gallery. Someone who looks like your mom is here with a strange man.
Makoto: Get here now!