Harem Of The Oshika Clan - H067 Meshi Family: After Dinner

H067 Meshi Family: After Dinner

After ejaculating inside both Tamami and Tamayo, they wiped the sweat from my body and draped a gown over me. They donned gowns too, and Tamami carried a basket with our towels and discarded clothes as they each took one of my arms.

“Dinner should be ready soon, so we’ll take you to the dining room.”

Pulled by both arms, I left the room and walked down the hall toward—presumably—the dining room.

“Shouldn’t we shower first?”

Even though we were quick, Tamami, Tamayo, and I were steeped in the scent of our fluids. Isn’t it rude to meet everyone like this, especially first-timers?

“No need to worry.”

“They’ll love it—your scent.”

…Maybe the women will, but what about the in-law husbands? And greeting people reeking of fresh sex is mortifying.

Before I could dwell on it, they led me not to the dining room but to a washroom. We washed our hands, Tamami set down the basket, and they grabbed my arms again, dragging me along like a prisoner.

Next, we reached the dining room. With the two beauties on my arms, I entered to find six Meshi family members already seated at a large table.

Tamami and Tamayo released me, so I stood straight and greeted everyone.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Oshika Akira. Thank you for having me tonight.”

I’d met two of them before, but a general “nice to meet you” seemed fine.

“Akira-san, welcome. Skip the formalities and take a seat there.”

Takemi, the Meshi head, pointed to the middle of three empty seats along the table’s long side. Tamami and Tamayo would flank me, I assumed.

“Tamami, Tamayo, please handle serving. And introduce Akira-san to the others.”

““Yes!””

Takemi stood, leaving with her daughters. They’d been waiting for us.

As I sat, Yoichi, Takemi’s husband and the only familiar face, introduced the others.

Across from me were Katsumi and Michio, the former Meshi head and her husband.

Katsumi, my grandfather’s eldest daughter, is my father Hikaru and Reiran’s sister—my aunt. Nearing 70, she looks barely 60, a refined beauty.

Michio, her husband, is a former Meshi Academy middle division deputy principal and math teacher. A quiet, scholarly type, still handsome in old age, likely 70. He looks his age but pairs well with youthful Katsumi.

Diagonally to my left were Takeha and Masashi, Katsumi’s second daughter and her husband.

Takeha, Michio’s only biological daughter, is Meshi Academy’s high division president. Since the high division is university-level, she’s a president, not a principal. Mid-30s but looks under 30, she’s a professor still teaching. Mid-30s for a university president seems young, but I don’t know the norm.

Masashi, her husband, is around her age but looks 40. Clan women seem to siphon youth from their husbands—women look young, while in-laws look their age or older. Masashi, a middle division PE teacher with a robust build, seems weary. With no kids, Takeha might still be draining him daily.

Yoichi, who introduced them, is Takemi’s husband and a primary division science teacher. I met him at my introduction as the Meshi head’s spouse. He’s Tamami and Tamayo’s father, which feels rare—unlike the Mihyou family, where kids with Oshika men outnumber those with in-laws.

I don’t know other families’ structures yet, so I can’t say what’s normal.

“Sorry for the wait.”

Takemi, Tamami, and Tamayo returned with trays of steaming rice and miso soup, serving us.

“Thank you.”

Takemi served me. As I thanked her, I caught a glimpse inside her loose gray dress—white skin framed a lacy black bra. I swallowed hard.

Takemi gave a sultry smile and straightened.

Hau, despite the age gap, I wanted her. Such a seductive body. Is this daily sex rewiring me? Before joining the Oshika clan, I found women or actresses erotic but never thought “I want her.” Takemi’s my older sister by blood, which should dampen such feelings, but clan women, even close kin, are intensely aroused by me. My half-shared blood must stir me too.

Once served, the three sat, and dinner began. Rice and miso soup paired with steak and salad—a Western twist. The steak was pre-cut, likely for chopsticks, making it easy.

This casual, East-West blend felt relaxed. At a new house, it eased my nerves. A French full course would’ve stressed me with table manners.

Halfway through, Katsumi spoke.

“Tamami and Tamayo already received Akira-san’s seed. How was it?”

Pffft.

What a question! Good thing my mouth was nearly empty, or I’d have choked.

As I sipped to clear my throat, Tamami and Tamayo, shy but delighted, described my penis. No need for embarrassment—we’re all radiating post-sex scents, wearing just gowns over naked bodies.

Still, emotions aren’t fully controllable, so maybe they are a bit shy.

The adults listened to their ecstatic recounting with smiles. In a normal family, adults would scold such talk. Even in a low-birthrate era where sex past 16 isn’t taboo, it’s not something to gleefully share. You’d report the act and stop there.

Here, adults prompt it, and women and in-law men listen happily. The in-laws, long accustomed to clan culture, are unfazed.

Michio and Yoichi look at me neutrally, but Masashi’s smile carries a pleading gaze.

As Ryoichi said last night—or this morning—and as Masashi’s weary look suggests, he’s likely drained nightly.

For his sake, I’ll need to step up, especially with Takeha.

After dinner, Tamami and Tamayo led me to the living room… I think?

Four large sofas formed a square in the center, with no table, just a plush carpet. A large window showed the garden—lit by scattered lamps at night, creating a quaint scene.

Low shelves lined the sides, displaying plates and glassware—probably expensive, given the display. Small tables were scattered, but the room felt uncluttered, maybe due to its size or calculated placement.

“Akira-kun, sit.”

Tamami and Tamayo pulled me to the sofa facing the window, seating me in the center with them on either side.

They untied my gown, exposing my skin and soft penis.

“Starting already?”

Takemi and Takeha entered, Takemi with a water pitcher, Takeha with a tray of glasses.

“Not yet.”

“Just about to.”

The sisters gripped my member gently, making it twitch.

As they roused me, Takemi and Takeha set their items on a table and approached.

“Let us serve too.”

“We know.”

“Auntie, go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Takemi knelt between my spread legs, gently kneading my balls. Takeha’s palm enveloped my tip, stroking softly. Haa, u, four beautiful sisters and mother-daughter hands at once—my cock swelled fast.

“Haa, it’s magnificent every time…”

Takemi sighed sweetly. She’s seen it twice, including Hikaru’s fiftieth-day ceremony, so “every time” feels exaggerated.

“It’s already slick with precum.”

Takeha lifted her hand, licked it, and resumed.

Fu, aa, it’s good. Hau, I might come.

“Ready to go in, right?”

Tamayo said. My groin was primed—her wet hole could take me smoothly with just precum.

“Auntie, let him finish in you first.”

Tamami said to Takeha.

“Is that okay, first?”

“It’s fine. We got his seed before dinner, and Mom’s had it before, right?”

“True. Takeha, don’t hold back.”

“Then, Akira-san, I’ll take it.”

Without my input, it was decided I’d sleep with Takeha first. Fine by me—I’ll be with all of them anyway.