10 years had passed since I started playing the game of sekkusu with my childhood friend. - Chapter 3: Oppai is Ok to touch you know.

Chapter 3: Oppai is Ok to touch you know.

At first it was merely for fun.

We were about 6 or so at that time, and we were trying to imitate adults.

So, we would get under the bed-covers and wriggle our bodies into each other’s arms.

It was warm under the bed-covers, and we would pull each other’s bodies together, doing so would get us both all sweaty and fun.

This play continued into elementary and even when we were junior high school.

And by the time I realized, we were still playing this game of sekkusu after coming into senior high school.

We couldn’t stop it, or even think about stopping it.

“Ha …… ha …….”

At the longest, we would go on for over an hour as well, we’d cuddle under the bed-covers. Sweating, gasping for breath, until the time comes when we must end our play of sekkusu.

I reach out in front of me, and place my hand on the bulge of her br**st. Those soft plumps had grown proportionally to the growth of her body since we first started playing the game together.

There are three rules that are to be followed for this game.

1. 1. No kissing.

2. 2. You may squeeze her bo**s, but no touching her n*p*les.

3. 3. Naturally, no hands are allowed to go into underwear.

These three rules were like the unspoken agreement. If we cross these lines, it would no longer be just a ‘play’ anymore.

“Fu……unn~.”

In the middle of the act, we rarely ever talk or speak to each other. We were no different from mute animals except for the sounds we make such as “ahn~,” “no~,” and “unn~”.

We just single-mindedly put our bodies together and touch each other’s bare skin. Haruhime then closes her eyes and quietly surrenders her body to my body motion.

Even if a part of me touches her thighs, she doesn’t mind.

I wonder whether Haruhime also feels something from my touch.

There is no way to know.

I don’t know what Haruhime was going through, or thinking. I do not know what our ongoing decade-long game of sekkusu even mean to her.

It was strange. But listening to her heart thumping and beating faster and faster felt very comfortable.

“Iya~.”

I rock my hips forward and back, but it was just pounding on an empty space. There was no connection, absolutely none.

And yet somehow she acts as if she was being done, as if in real.

“Ahn~, iya …Nn”

“Haru …… ~hime.”

There’s no was that my desire to touch her grew more every moment unable suppress itself. Yet, for some reason, I would never go beyond the point meant to be.

In order to continue our “play,” a sense of distance must be maintained.

This was an ironclad rule.