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For Ange, having Ikuko lay on her bottomless hips presented a problem: The woman was huge. Bereft of all reason, not to mention endlessly lacking tact, the Ushiromiya heir's least loved hanger-on was thoroughly enjoying shifting her weight around. It hurt, and so she naturally objected.
"Oi, what the hell? Get off, you hag. You're too damn heavy!” Ange spat, rhetorically, though she began to consider doing so physically.
"My, I thought you loved it? Your dick certainly does, Ange!" She was full of it, as ever: Ange had remained soft, inches resting between her thighs Not like she had much to work with.
"At least take off your shirt, you tramp! This is an unequal treaty, it's no good at all!"
"Fine."
And so Ikuko did, forcing herself to sit up for just as long as it took to throw off her loose shirt, unhook her bra, and come crashing down right back onto Ange's stomach. The blow wasn't softened; she'd done so with her back, breasts be damned.
"Ngh—you're a real pain."
Ange wasn't crude enough to push the woman off—or, well, wasn't rebellious enough against her housemate—but she'd rather perish than forget to complain about it.
"Painfully worth the money, hun, and may I ask you to be quiet? I have an important matter..."
It didn't look like it. All Ikuko was doing down there was mindlessly scrolling some social media feed, phone held in the air above her head. At least she'd shifted back to crushing Ange's hip bones, and a bit of rare peace and quiet suited things.
"Yeah, yeah, me too. Shut up a while, I'm taking a call." Ange laid back and attempted to ignore the purple-haired elephant—though not without letting her free arm drift down to absentmindedly claim a handful of Ikuko's right tit.
Such was the daily grind in the Hachijo-Ushiromiya mansion (formerly solely the latter, but Ikuko’d insisted on adding her name to the deed “in case of accidents”—Ange entirely believed that going the poison route would shatter her sense of youth, so it wasn’t a big risk). Arguing, flirting, joking around: what else was there to do without a care in the world?
Unfortunately, pay taxes. As Ange zoned out listening to endless prattle about some filing or another on the Ushiromiya business, Ikuko again shifted, turning on her side and facing away. Hardly notable, except that her stress-breast had been taken away from reasonable usage, so Ange didn’t give it more than a passing groan. Nor, truly, did the feeling of a hand around her shaft elicit much attention, besides a raised eyebrow. Suppose she’ll want a new purse later, then. Ange smirked and assumed the call would pass with some proper relaxation as she hardened to the touch.
However, the expected feeling of warm lips never came—instead, she only felt something cold and flat against her dick.
“The fuck? Hey, Ik—Oh, sorry… No, not you, Ms. Watanabe, my apologies, I’—I’ll get back to you!”
Hanging up and sitting up, Ange growled at the call-ending complication and tried to see what the older woman was rubbing her most precious of heirlooms against. The murder weapon, it turned out, was her phone screen.
“Lay back down, Ange, no-one likes a bore.”
“Did your fingers fall off, you bitch?! What do you need that for?!!” It was ridiculous.
Scroll upwards for the next post. Double tap to favorite. Even posting comments—how did she have that dexterity?! It goes without saying that Ikuko had made Ange buy her the largest model, as every year, but was her cock’s tip really small enough to tap out correct sentences?!!
“Get off me, what the hell are you doing? Just playing with it like it’s a stylus?!”
“Oh, hush, it was the only thing in reach. What, do you want me to ignore it? Last time I did you came crying after two days.” Ikuko briefly leaned back to stick her tongue out, the younger woman caught between confusion and irritation (what was new?).
"At least do something interesting! You're just watching slop short-form bullshit, aren't you? Gonna rot your brain before dementia hits—a real achievement!"
Ikuko shut Ange up by taking half of her cock in her mouth. Quick, practiced strokes with her lips, up and down, were enough to bring the girl to the edge quick enough. It was all in the element of surprise; she knew this dick well.
Ange laid back and let out a sigh just in time for Ikuko to pop it out and rub the saliva onto her hand—time to hear about the latest in mystery readers' drama for a bit. Did you know that a famous Rokkenjima forger had been run off the app for plagiarism, only to return under a different name? Juicy stuff!
"Y-You prick... ugh. J...Just don't forget to alternate.."
Ange stretched her arm to sloppily grab a novel, Ikuko's recommendation, off the nightstand and opened it to her bookmark. Such was the way of things in this household, but she had a good few hundred pages left. After all:
They'd be lying here a while, she knew.