No touching below the waist: that was Sayaka's only rule.


Well, no touching with hands, anyway, and Hachi-kun seemed fine with it. He never once argued or pushed. He seemed perfectly pleased with their heated snogging sessions. Even now, his tongue thrust almost idly against hers. The hand up her shirt just barely brushed the edge of her bra cup, waiting for her to arch into his touch.

And she did, Kami help her, because she was the one who desperately wanted more.

Hachi-kun hummed into the kiss, slowly easing her bra cup down, as though he might be able to do it without her noticing. As though he thought she might stop him. She whimpered in the back of her throat at the thought. Hachi-kun took the sound as encouragement, his thumb circling over and over the nipple she offered him.

He could go for hours like this, with no expectation of going further. Of course, he could. He was a seventeen-year-old boy. Foreplay was what seventeen-year-olds instinctively did unless he/she is impatient or too horny to care. And sometimes, like tonight, when her husband was out of town for his work trip, Sayaka would let Hachi-kun go on for hours.

It had been like that with her husband at one time, when Yui had just been born. They had been desperate for each other, but Sayaka had been reluctant to do other things at first. They did everything else, everything they could think of to each other. It had been perfect.


Nowadays they stripped quickly on opposite sides of the bed, and her husband was inside her within ten minutes. That was the good part for him, Sayaka supposed. She knew he would have made more of an effort… if she'd asked him to. She didn't.

So Hachi-kun made the effort instead, as best as he could within her boundaries. And Sayaka grew to resent her own boundaries. Hachi-kun thrust gently between her legs — the smallest rocking motion he could make, as though scared even that would be too much for her — and Sayaka wanted to scream at the injustice of it. Injustice to her husband, to Yui, to herself and Hachiman.

Pressure built from his motion, and she knew he could come, just like this, in his jeans. He'd done it before. She'd done it before. They'd done it together. Sometimes...she will undress Hachi-kun's jeans herself. She will be in her clothing, while he is bared naked from below his waist.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore, and how screwed up was that? She wanted from her husband what she could only get from Hachi-kun. And she wanted from Hachi-kun what she was only allowed to get from her husband.

"We can't!" Sayaka exclaimed, at last, breaking the kiss and throwing her head back.

Hachi-kun froze, right in the middle of a thrust, his palm a motionless weight against her breast. After a long pause, their breathing heavy between them, he whispered, "Why not?" He sounded scared and confused at the same time. "What's wrong with this?"

"It's…" Sayaka squeezed her eyes shut over tears of frustration, counting to ten until they abated. "It's not fair." She swallowed. "To Yui," she added. "To you." Is left unsaid.

Hachi-kun lowered his lips to her neck. He did understand, even without her saying it out loud. "Don't worry about out me," he mumbled, his hips once again setting a lazy pace. "I don't care." He chuckled. "This is good enough." He leaned in, their lips only an inch away from touching. Their eyes met each other.

"You herself will be begging for more soon after all." He said.

And that is the truth she very desperately wants to deny.