Zenjiro's left hand touched Liora's right cheek. It was a light, careful graze against her warm skin. He moved his fingers upward to brush a stray lock of blonde hair away from her closed eyes.
The quiet room offered no resistance.
"Liora," he whispered into the heavy shadows.
She did not respond. The silence held perfectly steady. He pressed his thumb against the edge of her right eyelid and pushed the soft skin up just a fraction of an inch. A sliver of pure white sclera stared blindly back at him. She was confirmed asleep.
His left hand glided downward. It slipped over the slender curve of her ribs and traced the sharp dip of her waist.
He reached her right hip and let his palm slide smoothly across the warm skin of Liora's right thigh through the bend of her knee. He pulled the hand away entirely. He placed it flat on the mattress directly beside his own left hip and left it there to rest.
The real work began. His right hand started to move.
He clenched his fingers into a tight, solid fist.
He opened them wide. He squeezed the joints shut and released them again.
Close. Open. Close. Open.
He was warming up the stiff muscles in his hand for the task ahead. The quiet stretching prepared his nerves.
His hand slowly went up and landed squarely on Liora's inner right thigh. It was incredibly soft. The smooth, flawless texture yielded under his touch, radiating a fierce warmth that soaked straight into his palm.
Zenjiro inhaled a deep breath of the cold bedroom air and exhaled a long, shaky breath.
He groped Liora's right thigh. He squeezed the soft flesh with firm pressure.
It was a calculated test to see if Liora would suddenly wake up from a direct physical intrusion. He reasoned the logic in his head. If she woke up because he groped her leg, the fallout was manageable. It was vastly better if she woke up and saw him touching her thigh than catching him touching what was hidden down beneath her underwear.
He could easily invent a dozen boring alibis for a hand resting on a leg. He decided to execute this specific test because he remembered how easily she woke up from the loud ringtone of her phone earlier. He had to be absolutely, certainly sure she would not stir.
He watched her face closely. Liora did not wake up. Her breathing remained perfectly steady.
Zenjiro tightened his grip on her warm thigh, digging his fingers slightly deeper into the muscle.
He looked at Liora's features again. She was sleeping peacefully. She should have reacted by now if she possessed any waking awareness.
He sighed quietly. The test was successful. She would not wake up even if he touched any part of her body.
He released his tight grip on her warm thigh. He twisted his right hand in a slow, counter-clockwise motion. He slowly closed the tiny distance between his knuckles and the forbidden territory and prepared his fingers to grope. He could feel the intense, radiating heat washing over his skin as he got closer to the source.
His hand finally landed.
He felt the fabric. It was Liora's panty. The material was incredibly warm against his fingertips.
A violent sensation like a raw electricity shock tore through his body. The flesh in his middle hardened violently against his dark shorts. After many long years of walking on this earth as a quiet, unsocial boy, Zenjiro finally crossed the off-limits area.
A chaotic mixture of pure joy, wild excitement, and deep satisfaction flooded his chest.
He looked up at Liora's face. It remained completely peaceful in the dim orange light.
He maintained his exact position for five full minutes. He just breathed. His heartbeat was erratic and fast, drumming a heavy rhythm against his ribs.
He was feeling the raw reality of the moment. His right hand was currently clamped directly to Liora's forbidden territory. He felt the intense warmth and the smooth sensation of the cotton fabric.
That thin material served as the only remaining armor before he touched what rested beneath for real.
After all the agonizing days of Liora's pleated skirt teasing his sanity, he now prevailed. Her skirt could not tease him anymore.
His left hand lifted from the mattress. He touched her face, gently rubbing Liora's right cheek with his thumb.
"Oh Liora, you are beautiful," he whispered softly while rubbing her skin.
He returned his left hand to his left side. Zenjiro decided to escalate the pressure. He tightened his grip over the cotton fabric.
He checked Liora's face again. It was still peaceful. He loosened the grip of his right hand, then tightened it again. He repeated this slow, rhythmic squeezing process for an entire minute.
He could feel the fierce warmth of Liora's body. He mapped the texture of the panty fabric and the yielding softness of what was hidden beyond the barrier as he tightened and loosened his grip.
After the repeated process, he stopped. His right hand remained clamped heavily to her forbidden territory. Then he began to rub it.
His right hand moved from the lower part of the territory and glided smoothly to the upper part. He dragged his palm back down. He repeated this upward and downward process for an entire minute. He could feel the fine texture of Liora's underwear and the rougher texture of the fabric from her short skirt rubbing heavily against his arm.
After one minute, he stopped the friction. He inhaled deeply and exhaled the stale air from his lungs.
He thought it was finally time.
He glided his fingers upward toward Liora's stomach. The thick, folded edge of Liora's skirt around her waist stopped his fingers from gliding any further. He adjusted his angle and glided his fingers directly toward the target. His digits were entering the territory.
The tips of his fingers hit the tight elastic edge of Liora's panty. The fingers slipped cleanly beneath the armor. The gate was starting to open.
He could feel the warm, smooth skin of Liora sliding against his fingertips, while the back of his fingers felt the heavy elastic force of the panty's edge pushing down on his knuckles.
Zenjiro's right hand barged in and entered the forest.
He was in.
He successfully bypassed the only remaining armor. His erection hardened even further, aching against his clothes.
It was the very first time he had touched a pussy in his entire life. He stared blindly at the flat white ceiling and breathed heavily. He tried to stabilize his erratic breathing.
His right hand rested deep inside the forbidden territory. The back of his hand was being pushed constantly by the tight panty toward Liora's vulva.
He focused entirely on what his right hand could feel. It was incredibly warm. The texture was not smooth at all. It was a thick jungle with trees. It had coarse hair. His head was a chaotic mess, but his breathing finally stabilized into a steady rhythm.
He began to tighten his grip on the flesh, then loosen it, then tighten it again. He repeated this simple process.
Zenjiro had never seen a porn video before. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation.
Any experienced man would use their finger to force a direct entry inside the hole. That was standard common sense. But at this specific time in Zenjiro's life, he was still completely innocent regarding this kind of stuff.
All he could do was touch and grope the exterior. He was simply enjoying the intense, burning sensation.
He looked at Liora's peaceful face sleeping beside him. He leaned forward and kissed her warm forehead again.
"Thank you, and I'm sorry," he whispered into the shadows.
Zenjiro maintained his hold for two full hours.
When he was finally satisfied, he slowly removed his right hand from Liora's pussy. Before he went to sleep, he checked Liora's eyelids again. He pushed the skin up and confirmed she was really unconscious the whole time. Satisfied with the flawless execution, he closed his eyes and slept.
Early morning light spilled across the wooden floor. He woke up. He felt something uncomfortably wet against his skin. He looked down and saw his dark short pants were the ones that were wet.
A nocturnal accident had occurred during his deep sleep or maybe when he was still awake. He noticed Liora was still hugging him, but her grip was no longer as tight as it had been last night.
He carefully moved Liora's right hand and lifted her heavy right leg off his body. He sat up on the edge of the mattress. He checked Liora's eyes again, confirming she was still asleep.
He looked at Liora's lower body and then stared at the messy wrinkles of her skirt. He remembered clearly what he had done in the dark last night. He felt a heavy pang of guilt in his chest, but he did not regret the action at all.
He stood up from the bed. He brought a set of new clothes from his wooden cabinet and went to change in the bathroom. He stripped off the ruined shorts and washed himself.
After dressing in clean clothes, he was about to go out. He opened the bathroom door, but he suddenly stopped and came back inside.
He was now staring at his own reflection in the flat glass mirror above the white porcelain sink.
"I'm the worst," he whispered to himself.
Then, he heard a tired voice from his left side.
"Onii-chan."
Zenjiro panicked. Upon hearing the sudden voice, his muscles locked tight. He knew he was not physically caught in the act, but because of the heavy guilt rotting in his stomach, he naturally felt an overwhelming nervousness.
The psychology of a guilty conscience dictates that the brain becomes hypersensitive to sudden interactions, instantly anticipating discovery and punishment even when no evidence exists.
Zenjiro's heart beat fast.
He looked at the left side of the room. Standing in the open door frame, it was Liora. She had messy blonde hair and a not good expression on her pale face.
"My head hurts," she said flatly.
Zenjiro sighed silently. The huge tension drained out of his rigid shoulders.
"Are you drunk yesterday?" he asked smoothly.
Zenjiro knew this was absolutely not the case because she did not smell of alcohol at all last night. He just asked this random question to throw out a quick response and cover his frantic nerves.
"No, of course not," Liora mumbled.
She walked forward towards him. They were now both standing inside the small bathroom. Liora reached her arms out and hugged him loosely. She lazily leaned her entire body weight against Zenjiro's left side.
"Onii-chan," she whined softly. "Massage my head."
"Okay," Zenjiro said quietly. "Let's go to your bed. I'll massage you."
Liora squeezed his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. "Let's do it here."