Chapter 1280: Fumi’s Clumsy Fingers

I replied politely, keeping my tone professional.

"Ms. Fumi... I am representing the Suzuki Family’s Onsen, not Ms. Saki directly... so..."

The moment the words left my mouth, Fumi’s expression brightened with clear relief. Through telepathy, her thoughts rushed in, unfiltered and already warming.

[That means he isn’t tied to Saki... he’s representing the Onsen. Saki is only involved as a party. He has no real relationship with that bitch. That’s better...]

[That bitch won’t be thinking of seducing him... right?]

[He’s so handsome... and a foreigner at that...]

Saki entered carrying a tray with three cups of tea. Fumi immediately took control of the situation, lifting the tray from her hands with practiced authority.

"Go give one cup of tea to your brother."

Saki shot me a quick, sharp look but obeyed, taking a single cup and disappearing toward the bedroom. The second she was gone, Fumi stood with the remaining cups. She was not paying attention—or at least she pretended not to be. As she stepped closer to hand me one, the cup tipped.

Hot tea splashed across the front of my shirt and down onto my pants.

I pretended to flinch, letting out a sharp hiss as if the heat had actually burned me.

"Aaa—!"

Fumi’s eyes widened in genuine panic. She set the tray down in a rush and immediately began rubbing the soaked fabric with both hands, trying to wipe the tea away. Her palms pressed firmly against my chest and stomach, fingers dragging over the hard planes of my abs through the wet cloth.

"I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...!"

Her hands kept moving, rubbing lower, spreading the dampness. Through the contact, the Hand of Arousal flared harder. Her thoughts turned thick, sticky, and openly vulgar almost instantly.

[He has abs... real, hard abs... and an amazing body... OMG... why am I so wet already...? My panties are getting soaked... the fabric is sticking to my cunt... Have I become a complete pervert...? I’ve been alone for so long after the divorce... maybe it’s time I stopped pretending I don’t need a man’s cock...]

[His stomach is so firm under my hands... if I just slide a little lower I could feel the shape of his cock through the wet pants... fuck... why am I thinking that...?]

Her eyes gleamed as they traveled over me. The flush on her cheeks deepened into a full, heated red. Her breathing had grown noticeably heavier; the heavy curve of her tits rose and fell faster inside the tight blouse, nipples clearly stiff and pressing against the thin fabric.

"Please take off your shirt..." she said, voice a little too quick, a little too breathy.

Saki’s footsteps returned at the sound of the commotion. Her thoughts flared the moment she saw Fumi’s hands still on my soaked chest.

[What the fuck is this arrogant bitch doing...? Rubbing all over him like a bitch in heat... Look at her face... she’s already dripping for him. Hmph. Keep touching him, you self-righteous whore... I’ll make sure he ruins you next.]

"What happened?" Saki asked aloud, voice carefully neutral.

Fumi didn’t even look at her properly.

"It’s nothing. Go bring a pair of shirts... and—" Her gaze dropped to the dark, wet patch spreading across the front of my pants. The outline of my cock was beginning to show through the soaked fabric. "Also a pair of pants."

Saki’s internal cursing intensified as she turned to leave.

[Look at her staring at his cock... that divorced slut is practically panting. She spent years looking down on me, and now she’s the one getting wet over the same man who just finished filling my cunt and ass. Fucking hypocrite.]

The moment Saki was gone, Fumi grabbed my wrist. Her fingers were warm, almost trembling with the need the ability had forced into her body.

"Jack... quickly, wash yourself with cold water..."

She pulled me firmly toward the nearest bathroom, not giving me a chance to protest. Once inside, she shut the door behind us with a soft but decisive click. The small space suddenly felt charged.

"Ms. Fumi... I’m fine... It’s okay..." I said, still playing the polite, slightly embarrassed guest.

Fumi shook her head, already reaching for my jacket. Her thoughts were pure filth now.

[I need to get this shirt off him... I need to see more... My pussy is throbbing so hard it’s starting to ache... If I don’t calm down, I’m going to leave a wet spot on my skirt...]

She peeled the jacket off my shoulders, then gripped the hem of my soaked shirt and pulled it upward. The wet fabric clung for a second before coming free, leaving my chest and abs completely bare under the bathroom light. Her eyes locked onto the defined lines of muscle and stayed there, pupils dilated. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her throat.

[Fuck... look at that body... hard, perfect abs... the kind you want to run your tongue over... My nipples are so stiff they hurt... and my cunt is dripping down my thighs... I’ve never gotten this wet this fast... What is wrong with me...?]

She stood there holding my discarded shirt, staring openly at my bare torso. The residual heat from the Hand of Arousal made her thighs press tightly together; a faint, needy shift of her hips betrayed how thoroughly soaked her panties had become. Her heavy tits rose and fell with every uneven breath, the stiff peaks of her nipples clearly outlined against the blouse.

Outside the bathroom, Saki was still fetching clothes, her thoughts dripping with pure venom.

[That bitch locked herself in the bathroom with him... I bet she’s already touching herself while staring at his body. Hmph. Enjoy the view while you can, Fumi. When he’s done with you, you’ll be just another dripping, used hole like the rest of us...]

Fumi remained frozen in place, eyes glued to my bare chest and abs, the cold professional mask completely shattered by the mix of lingering ability and sudden, overwhelming arousal.

Her breathing was still uneven; the heavy curve of her tits rose and fell inside the tight blouse, nipples clearly stiff against the fabric. A faint sheen of sweat had appeared at the hollow of her throat.

I cleared my throat deliberately, breaking the silence.

"Ms. Fumi... I can do it myself..."

The words snapped her out of the trance. A deep, vivid blush flooded her cheeks and spread down her neck. She blinked rapidly, as if only now realizing how long she had been staring and how close she was standing.

"O-okay... then... I’ll leave it to you..." she managed, voice a little higher than usual. "If you need anything... give me a call..."

She thrust my wet shirt into my hands without meeting my eyes, then practically spun on her heel. The tight pencil skirt stretched across her big, round ass as she yanked the bathroom door open and darted out into the hallway like a woman caught doing something she shouldn’t.

I watched her go, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving me alone in the bathroom with the clear evidence of how thoroughly the ability—and the sight of my bare body—had already begun to unravel the proud, divorced older sister.