#lchiko

She’s glad he’s helping keep Tokyo safe. But she’s only human, and humans are animals, and her animal body has needs and complains when they aren’t fulfilled. She can only take so many mid afternoon sessions of rocking about on her fingers.

And so she keeps coming back to see Ryuzaki, again and again.

It started as an honest conversation about Light’s grades. Nothing more. Her son was the best, as usual, sure to go on to do great things and make his family proud. That was that, and there was no reason to discuss the matter further.

And yet somehow they found more to discuss, circling around the teacher’s desk with its neat stacks of papers and bright red apple. She learned that Ryuzaki was fairly new to Tokyo, having only moved to the area five years ago, and that he was single despite his smooth, silky voice and charming smile.

He called her a week later. There was something he’d forgotten to mention, he explained. Something important that he needed to show her.

And that something was his lips and his hands and a dark corner tucked behind a maple tree. 

They’ve never mentioned her son since. 

He’s younger than her by around ten years and it shows in his stamina and his agility. His best record is giving her five orgasms in two hours, and he’d barely even come up for breath. 

He likes being put in his place. Too much energy spent telling students what to do all day; he prefers to let someone else take charge for once. And she is quite happy to oblige; Soichiro had never been interested in such things and she had never known how to ask.

He has a very nice car. She doesn’t know how he affords that on a teacher’s salary, but that doesn’t matter. The important part is that it has soft, cushy seats and dark windows that are hard to see into at night.

Their first night together, she’d laid back and begun to study the ceiling, taking note of how the shapes fit together, before she was abruptly distracted by his hands slipping up under her shirt and his teeth meeting her neck. 

Soichiro never bites. Soichiro is a proper, sophisticated man who treats her gently. And she appreciates his caution, appreciates the way he’s careful not to push her past her limits. But he never asks her where the limits are, and his guesses are always conservative. 

Ryuzaki pushes. He’s hurt her before, not on purpose, but when he opened his mouth to apologize she sealed it with a kiss instead. How is she supposed to know how much her body can take, after all, if she never tests it? 

The car makes her nervous. She’s always afraid of someone stumbling across them, someone who knows Soichiro and can tell him exactly where she’s been on all the nights she’s invented a book club, or a quilting circle, or another suitable housewife hobby. 

And yet the danger makes it all the more exciting.

Tonight, it’s Ryuzaki on his back and Sachiko perched above him, back rounded within the confines of the car. She’s teasing the head of his cock with her fingertips. He’s circumcised, unlike her husband, and the exotic nakedness of his shaft excites her.

He whimpers below her, so soft and vulnerable. He likes to give up his body to her, to let her take control. She likes the rush of power in knowing that she can bend him to her will. She presses her mouth to his and he kisses back hungrily and desperately.

She runs a hand under his shirt to grasp his nipple. They keep their clothes on most of the way, which means less skin contact but an easier getaway if need be.

She likes knowing that they might have to run if they’re spotted. 

Sometimes she wonders what Soichiro would do if he knew. Would he be angry with her? Would he walk away? Would he bow his head and accept that it was his fault for getting so busy, for leaving her alone so often?

Sometimes she wonders if his late nights are not just at his office.

She lowers herself onto Ryuzaki’s cock, all twitching and pulsing with anticipation. She rocks back and forth, deliciously full of his girth. 

He is actually a bit smaller than Soichiro, but she doesn’t mind. It sounds cliche, but size isn’t everything. And besides, she likes the variety.

Sometimes he likes to be told that he’s naughty. That he’s bad, for tempting her here. He never points out that she’s the one who keeps coming. He lets her blame it all on him and his youthful good looks and smooth, silky voice. 

Sometimes he likes to tell her how beautiful she is, how much he loves her body even with its marks of age and pregnancy. He likes her stretch marks and her cellulite, he likes the way her breasts sag beneath her shirt. 

They went to a love hotel, once, and saw each other properly naked. She drank in his lean, strong form, mostly smooth but for a few scars around his limbs. He explained the stories of some of them – scrapes from falling off his bike, burns from distracted cooking, scratches from his cat. It was odd to hear about his life outside of here, outside of this secret they shared.

She liked getting to see him in the soft, romantic lights. But she also likes seeing him in the dim street lamps, occasionally lit up by a passing car. It feels better that way. It feels better to make it covert. 

Their affair is like film that’s still developing. If it leaves the darkroom too fast, it’ll get all damaged and faded. 

It’s temporary, she reminds herself. It can’t go on forever. Someone will see them, or she’ll mix up her stories, and it’ll all come crumbling down like a house of cards.

So she has to savor it while she lasts. She has to make the most of these trysts. 

tracklist:

stacy's mom by fountains of wayne

a sweet old-fashioned girl by teresa brewer

where the boys are by connie francis

grown woman by beyoncé

dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen

grown woman by mary j blige

hey mama! by exo cbx

seven (explicit ver) by jung kook