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Melting that Tired Heart

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For once, everything is quiet. There are plans to be made, for sure, and schemes that need rehearsed and reworked, but nothing that presses immediately on Akiyama's brain in the depth of this night. This has disadvantages. Nao sits across from him, in a plush chair, the only other person in the room (her room, he reminds himself, lest he conveniently "forgets" this fact). She's half asleep. The other half is attempting to maintain conversation, and the result is an easy silence loosely intertwined with word salad.

His fantasies keep running wild. Unrestrained by the need to plot ahead for the immediate future, Akiyama thoughts stray downward, to events that could never happen. Nao sits there, oblivious. She's half-conscious, if that. Her breasts, covered by an unfortunate cloth barrier rise and fall with her breaths. Her legs are splayed slightly open, and her hand—

No, that has to be his imagination. First, Akiyama shouldn't be looking there, at least not closely enough to tell if her hand is down there and if so, then whether she's moving it in a way that—

Akiyama shakes his head. Just because there's a lull in the strategizing does not mean that his mind should go wondering what Nao would look like in the middle of an orgasm. Or how it would feel having his hand inside her while she squeezed him, never mind any of the other parts that absolutely cannot go there tonight.

That trips the switch, and a plan—not a good one, but a plan—emerges. "Hey," he shakes her awake. "You're falling asleep." Best case scenario, she'll startle and kick him out of the room, and should a more complicated case arise, well, he's not going to call that a bad thing.

"A-Akiyama-san!" Nao seems genuinely surprised that he's still in her room. A second later and she realizes that her hand is still moving under her skirt; a second after that and she realizes where his gaze has been. "It's noth—" She takes her hand out and places it behind her back. Interesting move for someone who claims it's nothing, Akiyama thinks.

"No?" He approaches her, voice low. "Not at all?"

A blush fills her cheeks. He strokes her shoulder, and lets his fingers trail down her arm. It stops just above the hand that he knows was touching herself. He takes a deep breath, and reminds himself to actually pause and think. What is he even doing? Nothing can happen between them, at least not yet.

"Maybe…" She doesn't make a move, but she doesn't pull her hand away either. "I guess I just let down my guard too much. Sorry."

He nods, but every instinct—even the tactical ones—tell him to make use of this opening. "It's fine," he smiles at her and takes her hand. Go slow; he applies the brakes on this seduction just short of a stop. Let Nao lead this.

For a while, she's silent—her now-alert eyes move with her calculation. "I think about you sometimes." Her downcast gaze and her delightfully pink cheeks tell him everything.


"Like kissing...and other stuff." She trails off. "I'm speaking too much," she says by way of apology.

He could stand to hear more of this talk. Akiyama just shakes his head though and lifts her fingers to his lips. He can still smell her fragrance on her fingers, and the jolt of desire that fills him just from that takes him aback. "Not at all," he whispers, kissing her knuckle. Just a bit of tongue and he could have a taste of her.

"It'd be bad to try it out, wouldn't it?" The words are so soft Akiyama strains to hear them.

He leans in and takes a lock of her hair in his free hand. Of the two people in the room, he should be the one to know better, but his self-control has limits and right now he brazenly plays at the edge of it. "Depends," he smiles, and ignores the physical urges wanting him to outright encourage the ideas in the back of her mind. "On what you mean by 'try.'"

How Nao can look anymore embarrassed is beyond him, but she does, "I mean like—ah—becoming lovers." Her whole body seems to relax at finding an acceptably naïve euphemism.

"We shouldn't, at least not how I think you mean it." he says, matching her volume, and he laughs when her expression becomes glum. "But that doesn't mean that there aren't other things we can do."

"Like what?" The eagerness is a good sign.

Akiyama kisses her knuckles again, and savors that scent a little more. "I could kiss you." A deep breath goes through him as he takes advantage of the set-up she's given him. He takes a taste, just the tip of his tongue on her skin, just for a moment, and then watches her reaction.

"On the lips?"

"Anywhere you'd want." To drive the point home, he kisses Nao on the fingers again, and watches her expression change as what he's offering becomes clear to her.

Her jaw drops and he almost laughs at the expression on Nao's face that seems to ask: "You can do that?" He doesn't. Instead, he nods, and waits for her response. The words come slowly, each syllable dropping like lead in gravity. "You could kiss me."

Akiyama leans in, "On the lips?"

Her lips curve into smile, and her face begins to shine through the blush again—still that shade of red, but at least she meets his eyes now. "Anywhere." The hand Akiyama doesn't hold rises and rests on the back of his head, and gently suggests he kiss her. He does. They both hesitate at the first contact. It's probably her first kiss and way too long since his last one. Akiyama lets it wash over him. His lips brush against hers again and again, making up for the years of lack. At least when they pull back, she's as breathless as he is.

He drops her hand, and uses his newly free hand to steady himself. "Anywhere?" Akiyama lets his gaze drop downward.


Akiyama falls to his knees, and Nao, without needing instructions, slouches back in her chair. Her legs part slightly, and though she tenses when he inches her skirt up her thighs—the better to see, smell, taste her—when he looks back up over the line of her torso, she nods her permission.

He takes a deep breath. There's no reason he should be nervous, none at all. He slides the fabric of her panties to one side and reminds himself that there are no plans being made tonight. There's no foundation being built for future seductions. He's going down on her, hopefully making her orgasm, and then going back to his room to release the tension all this places on him, the image of what happened fueling his fantasies. That's all. Yet, his hands shake a bit—stop that—as he parts her lips and looks at what she hides. He traces a line around the outside edge of her entrance and up the tiny shaft of her clit.

His lips touch the inside of her thighs first, kiss a line down her knees and her calves, and on the inner-arch of her foot. Akiyama kisses each toe and lets her foot fall on his shoulders. She angles her foot, and tells him without words to get closer to her. He has no objection. The other foot joins the first on his opposite shoulder, and Nao shifts her hips slightly, opening her pussy up fully to him.

Akiyama curls his arm around the junction where hip meets back and surrounds himself with her. Her legs close around his ears, and all he can see is the pink of her pussy and the dark patch of hair at the top. An experimental brush of his tongue against her clit brings out a gratifying moan. The flesh in front of him is damp, not just from his saliva. Good. He slides a finger inside her. She squeezes—a good sign—around the additional stimulation. Akiyama settles in, and Nao lifts her body to press herself into his face. He smells, tastes, her completely. The small noises that escape from her throat egg him on—as though he weren't already absorbed in his activity. He imagines the accompanying flush that must be spreading across her face. Her teeth are probably biting down on her lip in a half-successful attempt to keep those small noises from turning into larger ones. He'd look, but the hand on his head suggests otherwise.

So instead, he slides another finger inside where her juices are already flowing.


For that, Akiyama raises his head. She is adorably flushed. "Bad?"

Nao shakes her head. "Good. Really good." Her breath overtakes her voice as Akiyama turns his concentration back to where it's most needed—her clit. His hands move inside her. She squeezes around him and grinds her hips against her face, and for both their sakes he maintains the momentum. A million tiny signs of her impending orgasm come in: her shaking limbs, her legs becoming insistent as they shut his ears to her those wonderful moans, the immense wetness suddenly running down his hands. She tenses, and then all at once her legs go slack. Akiyama rests his head against the soft skin of her inner thigh. The flesh in front of his eyes is pink and swollen with arousal—the result of his efforts. He traces his fingers, now gleaming with her juices, around her outer lips.

His body's urges, placed aside for those moments, returns in full-force.

"Are you okay, Akiyama-san?"

She slides her legs off his shoulders, but leaves her pussy out for him to see. It's a vision that's going to haunt his mind at night—and probably during the day as well. "Absolutely." He shifts, trying to ease the feeling of confinement in his trousers, if only a little bit. Her thighs make an excellent rest for his head. "You?"

"Uh huh. I feel like I'm floating." Nao lies back in the chair, looking dazed, one hand lazily stroking the back of his head. Then, she jerks back. "What about you? Did you enjoy this?"

Akiyama manages to laugh even as the tension becomes unbearable. One hand undoes his fly. "I did."

"Really? But I haven't touched you at all."

The hand below strokes his cock, while he lets the index finger of his other hand trace lines and circles around Nao's inner thigh and vulva. How can he explain to her the effect she has on him, the way this hijacked his five senses, his imagination, the chemical effects and hormones rushing through him? Yes he wants to pull her on top of him and feel the rewards of his work. But even just what they've done is enough. "Doesn't matter. Just…"


He feels bare now, even though Nao sees nothing more than the top of his head between her legs. The urge to end this coldly and return to his room to scratch this itch in peace comes instinctively. He doesn't want her to know, not yet. It's too late, though. And the last thing he really wants to do is leave her. "Let me touch you some more."

"That'll help? Not that I'd complain…" He looks up long enough to see her face return to a bright shade of red. Nevertheless, her legs widen and her body shifts ever slightly forward—closer to him. That's a good sign. As is the moisture from her that makes his hand shine. He rubs it over the head of the cock—as close at it'll get tonight to feeling her around it.

The last-semi rational thought he has is to reassure her. "It'll help," he says before he kisses her clit again and feels the shudder run up through her. Even as he strokes himself into a frenzy, he serves her as well, taking in her escalating arousal, and withstanding her shaking legs around him as he comes. The jolts of sensation course through his body. Then all the tension leaves his muscles and all he's capable of at the moment is resting his head on her lap.

For now, that's everything he needs. No schemes, no plans run through his head; only Nao's fingers combing through stray locks of hair and tracing circles on his scalp register. A weight he hardly notices anymore eases. Akiyama closes his eyes and lets himself savor that feeling a few seconds longer.


Her voice jerks him awake. It actually takes him a second to realize where he is and what just happened. Akiyama gets to his feet. "I should go."

"Akiyama-san!" Nao stands up and dashes out of the chair, the skirt lifted around her waist finally falling back into place. Her underwear is still pulled aside though, and—really, he shouldn't be thinking about that, not right now. She stops mid stride. When she speaks again, her voice is softer. "You could stay here with me tonight. I wouldn't mind."

He eyes the exit. His conscience and his strategic sense both tell him to leave, but she wants him to stay, and right now, somehow, mysteriously, that's a lot heavier. "Fine. Just don't hog the covers."

Nao stares at him for a second, and then she gives him that smile—that one Akiyama's learned to fear because she only wields it when she understands him to an uncomfortable degree. At least she has the grace not to share her insights this time. "I won't."

They go silent as they climb into bed together and Nao reaches out to turn off the lamp. Then, her voice cuts through the darkness. "Akiyama-san?"


Nao's body curls into his, and Akiyama's arm has no other choice but to drape loosely over her shoulders. "Thank you."