A Man Who Lost Confidence, to a Gentle Chastity-Reversed World - Chapter 58: He’s So Kind

Chapter 58: He’s So Kind

Maki’s Perspective

I did it again. Saying what I wanted to Sato-kun and then running away—my bad habit. Yet, my pussy kept throbbing, dripping with juices.

When I parted with Sato-kun, I could still jog lightly. But every time I recalled his face, more juices soaked my panties, slowing me to a walk.

Struggling with my pigeon-toed gait, I reached home, rushed to my room, and threw off my heavy panties.

“…I can’t hold back anymore…!”

Muttering alone, I sat on the bed, immediately reaching for my pussy, rubbing it wetly. Just minutes ago, I saw his expression, his gentle touch, his toned upper body, and his hard, splendid cock—shamelessly using them as material.

The trigger was definitely our name-calling moment. I was out of my mind, showing weird courage, yet he accepted it. I brought it up, but my juices overflowed uncontrollably.

I was terrified he’d noticed. Getting aroused and leaking outside the bedroom—I might be despised. Scared, I fled home.

The rough masturbation quickly brought me to climax, and I collapsed onto the bed. Catching my breath, my thoughts of him didn’t stop.

But I can’t control my lust. Maybe it hasn’t changed since he took my virginity—I often worry about that.

He tried so hard to please me, yet I’m selfishly defiling him in my fantasies.

He says he’ll use me as material and gets excited by my masturbation. That such a boy exists, and I receive his love, feels too perfect. Maybe tonight, he’s using my bra.

But giving my underwear to a boy is utterly perverse. Thinking back, I cover my face in shame.

Yet he accepted it. Imagining his masturbation, I nearly reach for my pussy again, barely stopping myself. I need to calm down.

I love him so much. It’s only been a month, but I can’t live without him—emotionally and sexually.

We got close in high school, but I knew him in middle school, same class in third year.

I never spoke to him, but I thought he was cool.

Most boys stuck with other boys, ignoring or fearing girls—those were the two types.

But Sato-kun seemed to look far off, not talking much with boys either.

He had a friend he walked home with, but otherwise, he was mostly alone.

His sharp eyes weren’t aggressive. I only saw him from the side, never directly, but he felt different from other boys.

Some girls tried talking to him since he wasn’t scared. He responded but seemed uninterested. I never spoke to him either—I lacked the courage.

Since middle school, my body grew—breasts and butt getting fleshier. When friends said I had the biggest, I felt sad.

Asagi said, “Big boobs are nice,” but I wanted a slim figure like hers.

I tried dieting, but my chest and butt kept growing. I had to replace bras often, feeling bad for Mom.

I knew my face was plain, not cute. With such a chubby body, no boy would like me.

I had few friends, none male. Talking to boys, even casually, felt impossible—they’d surely dislike me.

Mom got close to Sato-kun’s mom at parent meetings, but that didn’t mean I’d talk to him.

We passed each other since our houses were close. He’d nod slightly, unlike other boys who’d hurry away—a rare boy.

But in high school, seeing him talk with Asagi, I wanted to talk too. Asagi and I got close in first-year middle school.

Cute, stylish, and cheerful, Asagi was like a goddess to me. Compared to her, I had no charm, yet Sato-kun accepted me.

I never imagined eating lunch daily with a boy in high school.

Spending time together, I realized he’s a wonderful boy who cares for us. I was shocked such an ideal boy existed.

But Asagi was forward, and he didn’t seem to mind, so I thought they’d become lovers.

Even if he didn’t hate girls, I couldn’t be more than a friend.

If asked to choose between me and Asagi, I’d pick her too.

Plain-faced, chubby, and boring, I didn’t match a cool boy like him.

My strong libido made me masturbate to him, imagining his ejaculation or sex face, apologizing in my mind.

Then, staying over at his house with Asagi, a miracle—he touched my breasts.

A boy touching my flabby breasts felt like using up my life’s luck. I focused hard during Old Maid, still recalling Asagi and Yuki-chan’s faces.

I thought that memory alone could fuel masturbation forever, never lacking material.

I fantasized about being his lover but thought it too convenient.

When Asagi told me they were lovers, I was genuinely happy. Knowing she liked him, they seemed perfect—a cool boy and a popular girl.

Her apology for “cutting in” confused me.

I was aware of him as a man, but I thought he was out of reach.

But things took an unexpected turn. With Asagi’s help, he went out with me, like a movie date.

I worried if he was okay but wanted to care for him.

I cried during the movie, making him comfort me—a huge mistake. Yet he matched my pace and even agreed to talk at my house.

I got excited and nearly assaulted him, but he comforted me. Normally, I’d be reported. An ugly girl like me attacking him should disgust him.

But he praised me, took my virginity, got hard while touching my breasts, and thrust deep.

So cool, like a manga prince. The brief pain vanished in the melting sex.

I got too aroused, begging for him to cum inside. It was a safe day, and even if I got pregnant, I selfishly thought bearing his child would be joyful.

But he felt guilty, saying he’d take responsibility if I got pregnant.

My selfish begging hurt him, and I felt awful. Yet, his care for me came through.

He’s an amazing boy who cares for girls. Too perfect for me.

He said he wanted to embrace me again, but I thought once was enough for my ugly body. That was my best memory, I thought.

I masturbated to that memory often, feeling awkward seeing him.

Defiling him in my fantasies while he was kind felt so wrong.

But a selfish desire grew—to have sex again or show him my body.

So I asked if he could see me erotically, a stupid question I’d rather erase. Normally, that’d end a friendship.

I fled and asked Asagi for help. She suggested we three go to a love hotel to talk.

I was scared but couldn’t escape after saying that. I had to show sincerity.

At the love hotel, I felt floaty, barely remembering. I wanted to be embraced again, but he asked me to be his lover. I saw him and Asagi have sex, masturbating unconsciously. He didn’t despise me, letting me touch him.

I clearly remember crying. I wanted to take his cock like Asagi but failed, spitting it out, crying from shame.

He made a strange suggestion—to use my breasts on his cock. Unsure, I tried it since he asked, and he looked so pleased. My slight movements made his cock twitch, semen shooting out.

My flabby breasts covered in hot semen excited me so much.

Seeing his pleased face made me happy. My body made him melt. I wondered why he made such erotic expressions.

As lovers, sex felt floaty. I suggested he use my breast photos as material, another stupid idea.

I wanted him to cum a lot with my breasts. He accepted my twisted wish.

I panicked when I accidentally sent it to Asagi, but we ended up sharing both our photos for him.

Asagi never gets mad at my selfishness, accepting me despite being able to monopolize him.

So I won’t monopolize him either. When Asagi wants sex, I’ll yield.

His ejaculation thinking of us is undeniably thrilling. Hearing he used me as material, I was so excited.

During the literature club’s hanami, I masturbated intensely at home, cumming repeatedly until midnight. I’m drowning in lust.

Today was our first lover’s date. He held my hand and rested on my lap. Despite daytime, I was aroused.

His coolness feeding rabbits stirred my heart too.

But he looked at my breasts, excited, which thrilled me. I might’ve leaked a bit during our date.

At my house, Mom was waiting, wanting to talk.

He glanced at her breasts, confirming he loves big ones, which made me a bit happy.

Mom shared old stories, and I was nervous, fearing he’d find me a burden.

I was ready to raise a child alone, following his wishes.

But he said he’d take responsibility, calling me his lover clearly. Sitting beside him, I gripped my dress, looking down.

He cherishes, is kind, embraces me, even allows me to bear his child. I adore him so much.

So I took him to my room, shamelessly begging for sex.

He shared his heavy, painful emotions, spilling them slowly. My tear ducts broke.

While I was selfishly elated, he suffered. His pain was like mine, yet I felt ashamed, unworthy as a lover.

Lacking confidence in my looks and personality made talking scary, especially to boys. I couldn’t meet their eyes.

But he changed that. Calling me cute, erotic, wanting to be with me, hugging me—he made me accept my body more.

Now it’s my turn. I want to ease his pain. I selfishly believe I can.

I don’t know why he feels this way, and I won’t ask unless he shares. But I can heal his heart.

I think it’s about doing things that make him happy forever.

It doesn’t have to be me. Healing his heart, stopping his self-deprecation, listening when he’s sad, leaving no room for bad thoughts.

He loves naughty things. Maybe a girl’s body can fill his heart’s gaps.

I know it’s convenient thinking. But if sex with me heals him, I’d serve him hundreds of times.

If he wants my breasts, I’ll rub for hours. If he wants his cock licked, I’ll suck until it’s numb.

If he wants to pound my pussy, even roughly, I’m fine.

It’s up to him, but I’d be happy if he said that. I don’t want to see his sad face.

If my body can help, I’m okay with anything. He doesn’t need to worry about it.

He’s my prince, making me happy, cool, and erotic. I’ll never betray him.

He said he doesn’t want to let me go. I want to answer that, accepting everything—his worries, naughty requests.

I don’t want to hide or lie. I’d be thrilled if he trusts me.

But there’s one thing I can only say in my heart.

…Shun-kun, I love you.

…I’ll do anything, so please love me.

…Then I’ll be happy forever.