"Shall we walk together?"
The friendly invitation compelled Natsuki Kuga to take her eyes off the minute hand. She almost bumped into a young woman who was part of the rush coming from the opposite direction, chatting on her phone. The girl didn't bow but she apologized with an appreciative look up and down Natsuki's body.
This did not go unnoticed by Reito Kanzaki.
"I'm sorry," Natsuki said.
The girl kept her eyes locked on Natsuki as she brushed past. Wavy strands of faux blond hair escaped from the scarf around her neck.
"It was nothing." She smiled and walked on.
Natsuki took off her sunglasses and turned to her employer in the middle of the loosely crowded boulevard.
"Mr. Kanzaki, good day."
"You're quite the charmer, Miss Kuga," Kanzaki grinned. He looked like he had hastened out of the office and followed her.
"I live nearby, so I always walk. Are you heading out for lunch?" he asked as he and Natsuki passed by a well-lighted restaurant.
Natsuki nodded. "Yes, but I'm having lunch at home since I took a leave this afternoon."
"Oh you did? Why not have lunch with me? I assure you it's strictly business, Miss Kuga. And my wife is cooking," asserted Kanzaki with a tilt of his head toward the nearby hotel.
Natsuki tried not to squint at the noonday sun gleaming from building's shiny glass panes, much like the grin Kanzaki was sporting. She had somewhere else to go.
"Mr. Kanzaki, I am honored by your invitation to lunch, but previous arrangements require me—"
"But I insist, Miss Kuga. My wife is amazing in the kitchen. Besides, she would very much appreciate having company," Reito Kanzaki pressed as he and his new engineer hopped off the street and walked through the gates of the Cloud House hotel. By the time Natsuki Kuga looked up from her chronometer, they had already passed the sleek glass doors, at which point she decided she had no choice but to follow her boss. The man was always on her heels whenever he saw her, because no one else seemed to show interest at his car designs. He was eager to display to the office his design proposals, puerile sketches he readily tucked into his breast pocket. Imagine, the company head himself lacked artistic sense, something Natsuki knew a thing or two about. She was the only woman who stood among the best industrial design students in the city. Kanzaki had been quick to hire her, though Natsuki was not aware that the job entailed dining with the boss and his wife at the very hour she was supposed to leave for Yokohama.
I should have stuck with freelancing, damn…
Her feet were suddenly heavy with hesitation as she stood beside Kanzaki. He saw her expression reflected by the elevator doors and asked, "Is everything all right?"
A current of pain shot up her leg as her ankle involuntarily stiffened. She moved to relieve it and finally stepped inside the elevator. She could not lose this job. Not yet. She only required a short break to recover from the accident, but it was much needed. Nothing else would be able to maintain her lavish apartment and the women who flocked to it. Kanzaki turned to Natsuki as the doors slid shut.
"Everything's fine. It would be a pleasure to have lunch with you and your wife," she said. The courtesy was contrived but in polite conversation, there was no difference.
Kanzaki smiled wide. "After we eat, I'll show you what I worked on last night…"
Natsuki shrugged at that. The elevator gave a sprightly ding before it opened its doors again. They both stepped inside the penthouse apartment. Shiny marble flooring greeted their sight. A sculpted glass table stood at the side and an antique vase was nestled in an alcove by the stairs.
"Tadaima. Dear, where are you?" Kanzaki called out to his wife as he set his things on the glass table. He took his cell phone out to place it on the table as well, until it started ringing.
"Oh, for heaven's sake—" Kanzaki grumbled but then paused when he saw the caller ID. "Shizuru! We have a guest—hello?"
Natsuki turned to the side as Kanzaki took the call, and he very slightly bowed at her in apology. It came off as small nod. She didn't mind. She was here with a purpose now that her priorities had shifted as opposed to minutes ago, before the discomfort in her leg reminded her that she needed to stay employed.
After a moment, a woman emerged from the doorway that led to the living room. Natsuki looked away at once, but only after she saw how the woman's light kimono clung to her body like a waterfall flowing along the contours of a mountain.
"Ah Shizuru, there you are."
Kanzaki tucked his phone away and leaned toward his wife to kiss her. Natsuki saw their lips meet briefly.
"This is Natsuki Kuga. Miss Kuga, this is my wife Shizuru." They bowed to each other. "Natsuki, I'm afraid I can't stay for lunch. I am so sorry," announced Kanzaki. He shook his head in disbelief. "Mr. Fujino just called me, Shizuru," he told his wife almost nervously.
"Don't keep him waiting, then, Reito."
When Shizuru Kanzaki spoke, Natsuki was predisposed to lunch immediately.
"Miss Kuga, my wife is a good hostess. I hope you don't mind staying."
They sat in across each other at a round table near the large glass windows. Mrs. Kanzaki poured tea while Natsuki remained silent. The windows blessed the dining area with soft light that delineated the protruding swirls of paint on the large canvas that hung behind the hostess. A clock ticked loudly from somewhere in the apartment.
"I apologize for my husband's rudeness, Miss Kuga." The woman finally spoke. There was a cadence in her voice, like chimes in a breeze.
"No problem at all, Mrs. Kanzaki. I understand Mr. Kanzaki is a very busy man." Again with the courtesy, compelling her to speak more words than usual and to restrain direct questions as to why she suddenly found herself somewhere she felt she should not be.
"Normally not around lunch. But it was my father who called him. Now he is a busy man. So," Mrs. Kanzaki explained with a cordial little laugh. "What about you, Miss Kuga? I'm sure my husband dragged you away from something you would rather do than to sit here and entertain your boss's wife."
"Not at all, Mrs. Kanzaki," said Natsuki. "He obviously wants me to meet you. Who am I to refuse meeting his beautiful wife?"
It was all practiced civility, although she wasn't so sure about the last part. Mrs. Kanzaki seemed unfazed, as if she had been hearing the compliment all her life. Her face remained impassive except for the pasted on smile which slowly turned genuine. The corners of her eyes grew soft and she indulged her young guest in conversation until a relaxed atmosphere settled between them.
The jellied sweets came, cool in the mouth, preparing the palate for the courses that followed. At one point in the conversation, Natsuki allowed Shizuru Kanzaki to talk about herself, and Natsuki occasionally looked across the table, noting how lonely and desirable she was. The woman apparently had the afternoons all to herself. She was not engaged in the business world, Natsuki found out, and that the painting on the wall was her work. She often slipped into a baroque language that Natsuki heard only the Emperor use, and she loped after her until her own speech gradually became her natural style—brisk and slangy like a teenager's.
"I suppose my husband wished to show off his designs to you," said Mrs. Kanzaki, who had insisted to be called Shizuru, as she poured wine into Natsuki's glass, a performance that bared the skin of her wrists very slightly.
"Yeah, he did." Natsuki liked the lilt in Shizuru's voice, stirred with an amber graciousness. "He's inspired."
"Is he?" The wife replied, watching Natsuki reach across the table to fill her glass. It was half-empty, and Shizuru noted the superfluity of the act. And smiled. "I wonder if his own wife is his inspiration."
"Why wouldn't she be? I'd be quite inspired," said Natsuki as her eyes peered indulgently over her glass, a wink of a light glimmering from the shiny rim. Shizuru held a breath at Natsuki's subtle display. It was a language she spoke and understood. If the Western world's women swooned when a date suddenly spoke French seductively well, a demonstration of delicate gestures was its reticent equivalent in Japan. Only a finger's width of wine was left in her glass, an accomplishment in how surreptitiously she did it.
"In that case, let me be of service, Natsuki."
Natsuki marveled at her fluency.
Shizuru did not wait for her to respond as she stood up fluidly from her chair. She cast a calculatedly furtive glance toward Natsuki.
"Please excuse me, I'll tidy up," she motioned at their empty plates.
"Let me help you."
They were in the kitchen now, setting the dishes near the spit-shined sink. Shizuru almost laughed when she saw Natsuki carrying the bottle of wine.
"How efficient."
"It'd be a waste not to finish it."
"Certainly it would be. My preference rests on tea, however. I'm not quite used to having wine," Shizuru confessed.
"Really? Then I'll be having this to myself?" Natsuki brandished the bottle with a grin.
Shizuru chuckled. "I'm still in. I am in my own house, after all. No harm."
She pulled out one of the stools underneath the island counter and invited Natsuki to do the same.
"Mr. Kanzaki wouldn't be so eager to see his wife getting drunk with a stranger, though." Natsuki pointed out with a laugh.
"I wouldn't call us strangers, Natsuki." Shizuru enunciated her name. It oozed out of her lips, obscene as honey.
"Then what are we?"
Shizuru smiled playfully and saw the amount of wine that remained. "At this point, we are getting acquainted."
"Getting acquainted? I know you like tea over wine, massages, and—linguistics, was it? That's all I know about you."
And that you're gorgeous, and that the air-conditioning is inappropriately cooler than your kimono can repel. And you're not wearing a bra.
"That's all you need to know," Shizuru said assuredly. "Unless of course, you find me that interesting?"
"Sometimes it's essential for your muse to have an air of mystery."
Shizuru's eyes glinted. "But a muse must reveal herself. The beauty of the work she inspired is her satisfaction."
At that, Natsuki did not wish to argue anymore. She consented to be pulled in.
"Then by all means."
Shizuru turned around in her chair. With her back facing Natsuki, she glanced over her shoulder as she spoke, "Help me pull it down."
"You mean your collar?" Natsuki's fingers palpitated.
"Yes, pull it down my back." Shizuru said in a whispery tone as Natsuki shifted closer. She felt the brocade of her kimono slide over her skin before the cool air brushed against it. She heard Natsuki release a breath. It tickled her bare shoulders.
"It's new," Natsuki said lowly. With a light finger she traced the embossed skin with swatches of pink at the edges.
"Now I know you like snakes too," Natsuki whispered as her fingers continued to touch Shizuru's back.
Shizuru was breathless. "You like tattoos."
"On you."
Shizuru turned back around and faced her. "Generous compliment coming from an artist like yourself."
Natsuki could not speak. Mrs. Kanzaki had not pulled her collar back up, so the tops of her breasts lay exposed.
"Do you have other tattoos?"
"Why don't you find out?"
They caught each other's lips and Natsuki's hands immediately began tugging at the woman's kimono. She felt Shizuru's nipples already taut beneath her palms as she gently squeezed, causing Natsuki to swell in arousal. Tenderly gasping, Shizuru thrust her chest outwards and placed Natsuki's face on it. They both groaned. Slow hands crept over Shizuru's sides, from her torso down to her hips and her legs where the air now kissed as Natsuki pushed aside the lower part of her kimono. Natsuki kneaded the warm flesh there while her lips fervently latched on a nipple. Shizuru had begun gripping her shoulders, shoving Natsuki's jacket off. A soft gray shirt was underneath, and underneath it were Shizuru's hands. Their limbs folded around each other in conformity with the other, hands slid over skin and nerve endings, mouths wet and commingling.
Shizuru suddenly pulled away, parting their lips and backing out of their embrace. Her mouth was open as she breathed and gazed at Natsuki, who longingly stood watching her, bereft.
The wife shrugged away her kimono and left it pooling on the kitchen floor. Natsuki's eyes fervently followed as Shizuru skipped over to fridge and opened it, bending over, backside in the air. In a fast moment she was behind Shizuru sliding two fingers inside her like nobody's business. Natsuki swore that if she had a stiff it would feel like she was dipping it in nectar.
Shizuru moaned languidly and turned her head to be kissed in front of the open fridge while Natsuki slid inside her at a delicious pace.
"Yes. Just like that," Shizuru mewled as she gripped the fridge handle.
They moved to the counter and Shizuru was spread open, supporting herself on her elbows on top of its smooth marble surface. She could feel her walls wrapping thickly around Natsuki's fingers as she continued to drive into her. Natsuki grabbed a bunch of Shizuru's hair into her fist, watching her boss's wife offering her body, bidding her to take it and consume it. Shizuru's eyes were locked on where their bodies connected, watching how Natsuki's fingers glistened whenever they pulled back before thrusting in again.
"Touch yourself," the dark stranger commanded in a whisper. Shizuru eagerly complied as her mind spun at how haphazardly they had come to this point. It seemed to have begun out of nowhere, now as she touched herself while Natsuki Kuga was on the way to fucking her senseless. Her name was the only thing she knew about the younger woman, and the thought made her come harder than she had ever experienced.
"Oh my god," Shizuru groaned as her thighs quivered.
She wasn't used to pillow-talk (or kitchen counter talk in the current circumstance), so she kissed Shizuru and withdrew her hand and wiped at her jeans. Shizuru didn't seem to have a predilection to talking either, because she began to push Natsuki backwards until her legs hit the edge of one of the stools. Then she tugged at the fly of Natsuki's jeans and dropped to her knees.
"Ah," Natsuki hesitated, surprising herself. She knew she wanted it as she eased onto the seat. "You don't have to."
It was a tardy remark now that Shizuru had already pulled down her underwear.
Natsuki gasped when she felt Shizuru's mouth over her. Her jeans and her underwear fell down to her ankles as she sat lazily, allowing her strained leg to relax. It had began to sting when they were at it on the counter. She stared with satisfied relief at Shizuru's magnificent head bobbing up and down and hissed out a breath when she felt the pressure of Shizuru's tongue. Not believing her luck, she closed her eyes. She wouldn't be able to look at Kanzaki the same way tomorrow, not without fighting not to laugh at his face because his wife was now giving her amazing head. Like a flame it swept over them both, a slow burn, desire the catalyst, possibilities either tempering their hearts or shriveling them to ash. Reito Kanzaki's finding it out wouldn't be enough to souse the blaze.
Natsuki grinned breathlessly as she watched Shizuru's tongue lick every drop of cum.
"Kanzaki was right. You are amazing in the kitchen."
Note: 2 Apr 11. Re-uploaded because I spotted some error. Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate it as one whose first time it is writing fan fiction. And to those who commented on my use of English, I'm also grateful.
I'm sorry this had to start with smut, but there is no other way we can have it while having a semblance of being realistic. Acting on an attraction is more believable than love at first sight, IMO.
Merci.