After cleaning every last trace of Yor's vaginal discharge with his tongue and lips, Haruto finally pulled back. His face was shiny with white, creamy fluid — thick, sweet, and musky — and a thin strand of it still stretched from his lips to Yor's swollen clit before breaking with a wet pop. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his thick cock standing rock-hard and throbbing against his stomach, leaking precum in slow, shiny strands onto the tatami.
Yor lay back on the floor, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. Her long hair was splayed across the tatami like spilled ink. She looked up at Haruto with half-lidded eyes, a soft, tired smile on her lips.
"Let me rest a bit now… Then we will start again," she whispered, her voice low and sleepy.
Haruto nodded, his chest still heaving. "Yeah… sure, Yor. Rest as long as you need."
