My Little Sister Is the Best F*p Material

Volume 7 Chapter 05: Sex Is an Act of Pouring Love

Stepping off the bus, Yamamoto-san and I walked through the still-lit city toward a love hotel. Teased for nearly two hours on the bus, with no chance for relief at a service area, my pent-up lust had me desperate to just have sex with her.

We’d scoped out a few love hotels during the ride, so it was just a matter of getting there. Despite agreeing to the hotel, Yamamoto-san clung to the absurd claim—“No sex, right?”—like a pre-pubescent girl. I tugged her arm firmly, quickening our pace.

Don’t misunderstand—I wasn’t irritated or rough. Acting forceful like this made her hide her excitement behind a naughty expression; it was foreplay. I’d never been so sure a girl wanted to be “forced,” and I was confident I could make her come instantly if I thrust into her now.

“No ‘full’ sign, so that one should be fine.”

Newer hotels displayed ‘FULL’ or ‘OPEN’ on digital boards, letting you check room availability without entering. Dragging a girl in, raring to go, only to wait at the entrance would kill the mood.

I entered, hit the switch, grabbed the key from reception, and boarded the elevator. Yamamoto-san followed meekly, fidgeting. Her excuse to avoid sex had turned her into a sullen, aroused vixen. My engorged cock, less an erection and more a muscular bulge, strained painfully.

It was strange. I lusted for her like I would for Miyu. Not just because she resembles Miyu—this was beyond that. It wasn’t about releasing with anyone; I wanted to fuck Yamamoto-san, to come using her body.

Despite spending all day together, her hairspray’s scent hit me now. Was my heightened arousal sharpening my senses? I caught the faint sweat from her nape, and my instincts succumbed to her potent pheromones. In the rising elevator, I pressed against her, sniffing her hair and groping her breasts like a pervert.

“Hya… Sotomichi-kun…!”

Ignoring her surprise, I lifted her T-shirt’s curves from below, fingers spread wide, kneading her breasts. Their weight, like water balloons filled with two liters, sent a tactile thrill through my fingers. The excitement surged to my groin, turning to an ache. Unable to hold back, I rubbed my cock against her ass.

“A-Ahn… Sotomichi-kun, no… ah…!”

Having sensitized her own ass, she weakly resisted, clinging to the pretense of karaoke. I could’ve ignored that promise the moment I dragged her in, but teasing her as she made excuses sparked a different thrill than dominating her.

“Sorry, the elevator shook, and I stumbled.”

Matching her excuse, she let it slide with, “Guess it can’t be helped.” Any flimsy justification seemed to work, so I’d get her to the room and have her suck me off.

With cameras in the elevator hall, I released her and waited for the doors to open. If she’d worn a skirt, I could’ve done more, but her pants today blocked easy access. I realized how vital skirts are for sex. Next time, I’ll ask her to wear one.

Love hotels are predictable, and the room was familiar—a large bed at the center. Like before, we set our bags by the sofa. Yamamoto-san said, “I’m tired, wanna lie down?” and headed for the bed.

“Wait, Yamamoto-san.”

I grabbed her from behind.

“Wah… oh, okay…”

Swayed by my growing primal instincts, she turned fully feminine, blushing with a dreamy, girlish expression.

“Those pants look wrinkle-prone. Better take them off.”

Any excuse to undress her worked. I just wanted her naked. Eager for sex, she agreed without question and stripped. Picking up the fallen pants, I glanced at her thick ass in panties, the crotch so soaked it looked like a different color.

“Don’t stare so much…”

She pressed her thighs together to hide it. I love her willingness, but her maidenly shyness is delightful too.

“Your panties are pretty dirty too.”

Hooking my fingers on her waistband, I pulled them down without waiting. She tried to protest, but I was faster, and she relented, spreading her legs. As the panties dropped to her ankles, she closed her knees to hide the sticky threads from her pussy, turning to face me.

“Your pants look ready to tear, Sotomichi-kun.”

My trousers, tented like a ruler was inside, strained at the button, threatening to burst if I didn’t strip soon.

“Actually, the boxer’s button’s been rubbing the tip, and it hurts like hell.”

“That’s bad. Gotta take off the pants and boxers…”

“Bending makes it worse. Can you help?”

Sex prep progressed smoothly. Our banter was a pretext, but my erection was so intense it risked injuring my groin. I’d never been this aroused by her before.

“If that’s the case, I’ll help.”

Careful not to snag my cock, she tugged the fabric and stripped me in one go. Instantly, the room filled with the unmistakable scent of sweat and precum.

“Haa… Sotomichi-kun’s smell is intense…”

Crouching to pull down my pants, she faced my towering erection. Unconsciously, she leaned in, sniffing the sticky precum on the underside, her face melting as she dripped love juices from her pussy.

“Sweated a lot today.”

The heat and long outdoor time, plus her teasing, made my boxers a musk-filled sauna.

“It looked so cramped.”

As if it wasn’t her fault, she caressed my cock. Keeping it erect in sweaty boxers for hours was rough.

“Maybe because of that, my groin’s itchy, almost stinging. Might be chafing.”

“Really? What should we do?”

Her expectant gaze met mine. I wasn’t the only one teased on the bus—she was dying to suck me off.

“It’s delicate, so I’d like the sweat cleaned gently. I’m at my limit, so I need it now.”

“But… gently means body-temperature touch, and now means… only licking with my mouth…”

That’s all we could think of. It wasn’t true, but our minds were wired that way. It was enough.

“Can you lick it then?”

“If it helps you, I want to… but that’s like… a blowjob…”

“Just do it. Please.”

“Y-Yeah, we gotta hurry, right?”

My forceful approach made it my responsibility, so Yamamoto-san obediently complied, gripping my hips and bringing her face to my cock. Her eager submission was so vivid I could almost see her wagging a tail.

“Where should I lick…?”

“Right now, the groin’s the worst. Start from the inner thighs near the base.”

“Around here?”

She spread my legs slightly, nuzzling into the side of my balls, extending her tongue to lick under my crotch.

“Nn… nnh… slurp… mchu…”

Her tongue darted in and out, meticulously caressing from deep in my groin to the back of my scrotum. Inhaling deeply through her nose, savoring the semen’s musk, she buried her face, making lewd smacking sounds.

“Ugh… that’s good… Yamamoto-san…”

Her eroticism isn’t just her curvy body but a blend of selfless devotion and raw debauchery, igniting my lust fiercely. That lewdness, honed through countless sex sessions on buses and in shops, is something she’s shown only to me. No one else could endure her teasing without coming prematurely. Her trust in me lets her bare this uninhibited side. If this is the charm I’ve drawn out, as a man, I’ve never been prouder.

“Could you lick the sweat off more broadly?”

“Hamu… okay…”

Opening her mouth wide, saliva nearly dripping, she enveloped my balls, licking the entire scrotum with exquisite care. What might hurt in less skilled hands became a masterful stimulation of my erogenous zones under her touch.

“Yamamoto-san… ahh… that’s amazing… so good…”

As she licked my sack, her face, partially hidden by my erect cock, radiated joy. Even as precum dripped from the tip, trailing onto her cheek, she continued sucking my balls undeterred.

Still clothed above the waist, her T-shirt hem barely hid her pussy, her long legs fully exposed. The sight drove me wild with desire.

“Y-Yamamoto-san… the tip now, please…”

I wanted her to give me a full blowjob, to devour my cock as eagerly as always.

“Nn… chu… the tip’s chafed from sweat…?”

For me, now prioritizing sex, getting my cock sucked was enough, but for her, with her excuse to refuse, every act needed a reason.

“Well, uh…”

I didn’t find this tedious. Having sex with Miyu prepared me for this. Her cryptic resistance only fueled me.

“The button’s rubbing made it sore. You eased the groin, so please do the shaft too.”

“Got it. I’ll do my best.”

Kind as ever, she’d gently lick my aching cock. She lapped the precum-dripping tip, carefully licking the frenulum before taking it in her mouth.

“Aaah… damn, that’s… so good…!”

She blew me yesterday, but her pent-up frustration made her tongue work so intensely my hips buckled. Sperm leaked slightly without ejaculation, and she savored it, deep-throating and sucking the entire shaft.

“Ah… aah…!?”

That’s when my body started acting strange. Or rather, my brain had long been warped, and it was now manifesting physically.

I was about to come. The urge to flood her mouth surged, a fierce ejaculation desire hitting my lower abdomen.

“Nn, nchu… chubu… guh… chu… jururu…!”

With a pretext for sucking, she was merciless, focusing solely on devouring my cock. The sight of my towering erection swallowed to the base made my brain obscenely erotic.

“Sotomichi-kun’s… fugu… nbuchu… juru… so big today… nngu…!”

Struggling with my engorged cock, she sucked desperately. The head lodged in her throat, squeezing, her slick tongue stroking the underside vividly—she was sucking with fierce intensity.

It was animalistic yet non-procreative, uniquely human in its eroticism, reminding me that fellatio embodies that. And coming in a mouth, incapable of conception…

“Juru… chubu, jururu… nnchu… ngu…!”

“Aaaugh… Yamamoto-san… I’m…!!”

I crossed the limit too easily. My body was different today, and the moment I realized I shouldn’t come, it was too late.

“Coming… coming!!”

“Nn, nnh!?”

Surprised, knowing I’d endured dry orgasms before, she thought I could hold out and started to pull away.

But my urethra was already slick with Cowper’s fluid, primed for semen to surge. The brain’s release command was issued, and not wanting to splatter her T-shirt, I instinctively grabbed her head with both hands.

“I’m coming, Yamamoto-san… swallow it…!!”

“Nnn—!! Nn!?”

Semen shot unrestrainedly into her mouth. The realization of an unpermitted oral ejaculation spiked my arousal, pouring thick cum onto her tongue in a relentless chase.

“Ugh… uuh… ngu…!”

With my cock deep in her mouth, she struggled to contain the flood, cheeks puffing, diaphragm spasming as she took it. But—

“Ubu… geh…!”

Her reaction was unexpected. Trying to swallow, she cupped her hands and spat the semen into them.

“Ugh… sorry…”

It wasn’t choking—she’d rejected it instinctively. Though she tried to drink the pooled cum, her body refused, unable to even bring it to her lips. Feeling guilty, I calmed her efforts and led her to the sink.

“Ahh… Sotomichi-kun’s thick stuff…”

Twisting the faucet, I washed the semen from her hands. Like discarding separated egg whites, the viscous fluid swirled down the drain.

“Really sorry.”

Back on the bed, dejected, she clung to me weakly. She knew I loved her swallowing, but if even she couldn’t, only Miyu could handle my cum orally. That frustration likely stung.

“Everyone says it’s too gross to drink.”

“Yeah, but… why couldn’t I today…?”

To her dejected question, my mind had an answer. The “bitter” taste others describe isn’t just flavor but a physiological rejection from my sperm’s incompatibility.

If it were just taste, she’d swallow with a smile no matter how bitter. Sadly, only Miyu seems compatible—Miyu complains but never spits. The more aroused I get, the more intensely others taste the bitterness.

She could drink before because my ejaculations, tinged with guilt over Miyu, were dilute enough. If she can’t now, the conclusion is simple.

“Maybe I love you too much, Yamamoto-san.”

My unprecedented semen volume came from loving her too much.

“Huh…?”

Wiping tears, she looked stunned. The link between my love and bitter semen clicked instantly.

“So… the huge one… means you love me…?”

She pointed at my cock, still rock-hard post-ejaculation. I was puzzled too. It throbbed like I’d taken a drug. Had it ever been this heavy, even with Miyu?

One thing’s certain: the flutter I felt at the botanical garden keeps driving my lust. As she said, I’m hard because I love her.

“Yamamoto-san.”

“Y-Yes.”

Grabbing her shoulders, I gazed at her doll-like face and stunning body. Unlike Miyu’s lithe frame, her robust figure’s every curve screamed softness and sensuality. Her kind eyes, her voluptuous breasts—everything was maddeningly alluring.

“Yamamoto-san, I…”

My cock throbbed violently, primal instincts screaming to fuck this woman.

“I love you, Yamamoto-san.”

This was different from before—a confession born of impulse.

“That’s… ugh… ahh…”

Her face melted into a dreamy daze, then she hid it with both hands. She seemed about to ask something, but overwhelming embarrassment took over. Her innocent, leg-flailing reaction clashed with my uncontrollable urge to ravish her—a sad fate of man and woman.

“Yamamoto-san, lie down.”

I pushed her onto the bed. As I positioned myself between her legs, she sensed my intent and pushed back lightly.

“S-Sotomichi-kun, you know… what happened earlier was an accident, but sex is banned today…”

Though not entirely unwilling, she voiced a token objection to our missionary position.

“You’re too cute, Yamamoto-san. Honestly, since the bus, all I’ve thought about is fucking you.”

“Fweh… eh…?”

Suppressing a grin, she sealed her twitching lips with a serious expression. My uncontrollable lust leading to sex was likely part of her plan, but her fresh reaction showed she hadn’t expected her emotions to be stirred this much. Despite her cunning, her pure response to real love was adorable.

“So, I’m going to fuck you now.”

I grabbed a condom from the tissue box, tearing it open. She watched tensely as I rolled it onto my cock. As I leaned over her, my tip grazing her entrance, she stopped me.

“Wait. If you put it in, I have a bad feeling…”

Covering her pussy with both hands, her hesitant tone was unlike her earlier performative resistance. At the peak of my lust, I didn’t dwell on it and thrust into her vagina.

“Aah… guh… ah, aaahn!!”

She arched her back, crying out, her reaction near climax.

“Hya, ah, no, aah… nn, aaahh!!”

Lost in the softness of her vaginal walls, I pounded her repeatedly. Ignoring her heightened sensitivity, I rubbed my perfectly sized cock against her flesh, hammering like a crazed animal.

“Yamamoto-san… feels so good…!! Aah… I love you… come more…!!”

“Nnaau… nn, ah, ah, aaah, no… ihya, rae, hya… aaahn!!”

Thrusting deep, I felt her cervix’s firmness. Knocking it repeatedly, urging her climax, she went wild with orgasms.

“W-Wait… this, it’s wrong… ahnn… feels too good… aaahn, aaauaa!!”

Was the long-awaited sex that intense? Fearing drowning in pleasure, she pushed against me. Pinning her arms to the bed, I fucked her relentlessly, making her come.

Despite her arms resisting, her lower body surrendered, legs wrapping around my waist to hold me. She’d accepted my cock, yet kept up futile resistance.

“Hya, no, rame… aahngu, ah… nnaaah, ahn, ah, aaah!! Sotomichi… kun… stop, hie, aaahn, aah, hya, naaah!!”

Each thrust made her come. Immersed in ecstasy, I hugged her convulsing body, ignoring her pleas and my own fatigue, ravishing her endlessly.

“Yamamoto-san… Yamamoto-san…!!”

This impulse stemmed from fervent love. The affection that grew, almost unnervingly, since seeing her often—I had to pour it all into her, shouting my feelings as I fucked. When her throat rasped dryly, I gave in to the natural urge to come.

“Uuaah… Yamamoto-san, I can’t… gonna come…!!”

“Aaah… yugu… I’m… AAH… Sotomichi… kun… nNN!!”

“Coming, Yamamoto-san, ah, aah…!!”

Clinging to her with all my strength, enveloped in her soft flesh, I came inside her. The volume surpassed what I’d shot in her mouth—I could feel it without checking.

“Ugh… uuh… nn, ah…”

She kept coming post-ejaculation. Pulling out, her pussy gushed love juices and air with a crude squelch. She had no energy to be embarrassed.

Looking down at her, panting, cold sweat ran down my back. It was supposed to be playful resistance and fun, loving sex. Yet, I’d become obsessed with ravishing her, like I did with Yuka—unilateral sex aimed solely at making her come.

(This… this is…)

Removing the condom, seeing my still-rigid cock, I shuddered. My love for her was real, fueling this engorgement. But that wasn’t all. Trained by Miyu, my body, when “raping” her even formally, amplified my affection into explosive breeding desire.

Like when I raped Yuka on Miyu’s orders. My recent ability to come during sex with Yamamoto-san was all Miyu’s—

“Haa… uuh… Sotomichi-kun…”

Regaining clarity, she sat up.

“Your sex was too intense, I…”

Starting to speak, she saw my still-erect cock and flinched back slightly.

“Sotomichi-kun… what’s wrong with you…?”

She was scared of my undiminished cock. Her plan likely counted on my uncontrollable lust. She’d teased me to be “forced” into sex, expecting me to pathetically hump while she soothed me, ending in loving sex. Instead, my beastly rampage plunged her into pleasure hell. By drawing out my genuine love, she’d dug her own grave.

It wasn’t accidental. This was likely Miyu’s design. Yamamoto-san’s last-minute attempt to stop was because she sensed Miyu’s intent in my hyper-virile state.

“I don’t get it myself.”

Even understanding this, my love and desire to ravish her didn’t waver. I loved her, felt no guilt, and wanted to churn her pussy with my blood-swollen cock.

“You’re just too cute, Yamamoto-san.”

Approaching her on the pillow, I grabbed another condom and rolled it on without hesitation.

“That’s sweet, but… sex is banned today…!”

She darted under my arm, crawling on all fours to escape. I chased, grabbing her ass.

“Just let me calm this down.”

“Soto, Sotomichi-kun, you’re not that kind of guy, right!?”

She was right—my core is masochistic, and this urge was implanted by Miyu’s scheme, proven by my natural ejaculation with her.

That made it worse. I found an excuse in it. Miyu and Yamamoto-san, who provoked her, were to blame, justifying my “rape.” My cock was merely a medium for their unseen battle.

“It’ll be quick. I’m putting it in, Yamamoto-san.”

“Eh, no… nooo…!”

Her pussy gaped and clenched, craving cock. I thrust into her from behind.

“Ugh… haaa…! Feels so good…!”

“Aaahn, ah, aaAAH…!!”

Her body buckled instantly. Lifting her collapsing hips, I pounded my cock into her.

“Ah, hya, no…! This… no, it’s… aahn, nnah, aauu…!!”

I drove my cock into every soft fold of Yamamoto-san’s vagina, stroking with forceful thrusts, flaunting its hardness. Despite my limited stamina, with breath and muscles nearing collapse, the exhaustion fueled my pleasure as I continued ravishing her.

“Aauuu… ah… aaAAH… hii, aaau… aaNN!!”

The pleasure overwhelmed Yamamoto-san’s brain, robbing her of coherent speech. Her fallen state was so endearing that my cock swelled even more.

“Hiaaah, nn, aaah…!! Aahiungu, gahafu, nnah… aaannuua…!!”

Each thrust intensified her cries, and seeing her tear-streaked, writhing face stoked an irresistible urge to ejaculate. Yet, I didn’t come immediately—my body craved more of violating her.

It felt like a mission, but in truth, Miyu was indirectly ravishing Yamamoto-san through my body. I couldn’t make her come this wildly alone. Her easy orgasms weren’t my doing but Miyu’s.

More than that, Yamamoto-san could’ve easily pushed me off if she wanted, but she didn’t. Even knowing it brought her closer to defeat against Miyu. She was addicted to my cock, unable to stop. Thus, this was a fully consensual, guilt-free rape.

“Aanah… ahiaaguah…!! Nn, nnauuuah… AAH, NNNaaah!!”

“Yamamoto-san… come more…!!”

Gone was any care for her pleasure. I ravaged her for dozens more minutes. Unable to stay on all fours, she sank into the bed, but I forced my cock in from behind, pistoning while pressing her whole body down.

When her climaxes—exaggeration aside—surpassed a hundred, she lost even the strength to convulse. Only then did I aim for ejaculation, slamming my cock’s weight into her womb, unloading into the condom.

“Ah… aah… u…”

I laid the hollow-eyed Yamamoto-san face-down. Pulling out, the condom slipped off, overfilled, and semen leaked from her pussy like a creampie. Wiping it clean with tissues, I collapsed onto the bed, drained.

I’d burned through all my energy. Tomorrow, muscle soreness would likely confine me to bed for two days.

“Ugh… bathroom…”

Regaining consciousness, Yamamoto-san struggled to sit on the bed’s edge. Standing to head for the toilet, she faltered.

“Eh… wah…! No way…!?”

Her legs, devoid of strength, trembled briefly before she collapsed onto the floor.

“Yah, no… wait, ah, no…!!”

Her urgent voice mixed with distress as she yanked her shirt down, a futile gesture.

“What’s wrong?”

Rushing over, I saw her crying—tears of genuine shame, her face crimson. The floor was soaked, the puddle spreading. She sat, lips pressed tight, head bowed.

“Ah… f-first, towels…!”

I grabbed towels from the changing area, spreading all but one bath towel on the floor. A faint lemon hue spread, weighing them down, and I stared, conflicted.

“Uuu… Sotomichi-kun…”

Her teary eyes met mine. I was helpless against that look.

Unable to stand, I pulled her up, ignoring the holy water—befitting a saint like her—streaming down her thighs, and led her to the bathroom. I hit the hot water button and returned to the bedroom.

While she showered, I shuttled between the bathroom and bedroom, spraying deodorizer to mask the smell. Exhausted, resisting the urge to collapse, I checked on her. She sat huddled at the tub’s edge, knees drawn up like in a rural square bath.

“Can I join?”

“…Yeah.”

Asking if she was okay felt cruel, but leaving her alone seemed worse, so I joined her. After rinsing off, I sat opposite, knees bent.

“Haa.”

She was down but not angry. It’d take a lot to anger her.

“To wet myself at this age…”

She mumbled, rubbing the tub’s floor. With Miyu, a toilet mishap wouldn’t have crushed her, but soaking a hotel carpet left a deep emotional scar.

“Can’t get married now.”

She shot me a slightly resentful side-eye. Unlike Miyu’s piercing glares, her cute, plaintive expression tickled my male heart, almost delighting me.

“If you took responsibility, it’d solve everything.”

“I’d love to, trust me.”

My reply brought a flicker of disappointment to her face before she returned to her usual gentle demeanor. Swimming closer, she knelt, signaling me to stretch my legs. I complied, and she straddled my knees, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“How was it? Forcing yourself on me?”

Her mischievous question made me look away, embarrassed. Her persistent, curious gaze wore me down, and I relented.

“Maybe I enjoyed it in the moment. But I prefer you gently getting me off.”

“Don’t guys prefer penetration?”

“Normal guys, maybe. My circumstances are weird, so I don’t romanticize the act itself.”

My first sexual experience was coming in Miyu’s mouth. Until Sachiko took my virginity, I masturbated for Miyu to swallow, making that act special, more thrilling than penetration.

“Really? I guess I prefer serving you too, in the end.”

She chuckled, sliding her hands from my chest to stomach. That enveloping eroticism was quintessentially Yamamoto-san.

“Being penetrated, though, I feel love.”

Her beautiful eyes locked onto mine. I’m her only real penetrative partner, so I’m the only one she’s felt that with. Whether it’s romantic love, I’m unsure, but my care for her clearly came through.

Not being able to build on that in life feels regretful. I had the composure to feel that way.

“Miyu-chan got me again.”

“I didn’t expect this either.”

I undeniably love Yamamoto-san, a stunning beauty envied by all, naked and touching me. She loves me too, delivering unmatched sexual pleasure. Yet, I’m just calmly aware of it. There’s only one explanation.

I’ve gained mental dominance over this goddess of beauty. My love for her grows, but my emotions are detached, calming. I’ve deepened love while distancing romance—a form Miyu orchestrated. Even I, following her orders, never imagined this.

“But, Sotomichi-kun.”

She must understand today’s outcome. Yet, her usual demeanor held a genuine smile.

“Even so, you’ll still choose me, Miyu-chan, or both.”

Her cryptic words implied there’s still room for me to waver in that choice.

“What’s that mean?”

“Hehe. Date Miyu-chan, and you’ll see.”

Pulling my hand, she stood, ready to leave the bath. I drained the tub, and we returned to the changing area, sharing the bath towel to dry off before dressing.

Miyu’s date—yesterday, she said something odd too. If dating her isn’t as fun as with Yamamoto-san, that’s a problem. It might make me need Yamamoto-san. Miyu won’t be as lovey-dovey, but her dates should have their own charm.

“By the way, Sotomichi-kun.”

After dressing, she glanced at the damp carpet by the bed.

“Don’t tell anyone I wet myself, okay?”

Her rare stern look accompanied the plea.

“Of course, I won’t say a word.”

“Really? No one. Not even Miyu-chan. Take it to the grave, okay?”

Yamamoto-san pressed closer, emphasizing her point. She seemed to have bounced back but was still clearly bothered, likely carrying this shame for a while.

“Got it, got it,” I reassured her.

A gorgeous JK wetting herself—another layer to her charm. But I’d keep that to myself.

“Sotomichi-kun.”

She fixed me with a sticky, intense stare. Do my thoughts show on my face that easily? I need to be careful.

Leaving the hotel, we boarded the return bus and sat side by side, casually gazing at the now-dark night sky. Following Miyu’s instructions, we’d done a lot, but what was Yamamoto-san thinking? Initially, she sought playful romance to satisfy her love, then dated me to pursue something real, and now seemed to envision a future together. Yet, that didn’t feel like her. Even considering she’s just a girl, I couldn’t believe becoming my girlfriend would truly give her what she wants. What are Miyu and Yamamoto-san thinking?

“What’s our next date?” I asked.

She met my eyes in the dark window’s reflection, then turned to me.

“A theme park, maybe. Somewhere near the sea with nice views.”

Her cheerful answer showed no trace of gloom.

“More shows than rides, then?”

“Yeah, exactly. If there’s fireworks, I’d love to watch them with you, Sotomichi-kun.”

Beaming, she listed things she wanted to do. I’d do anything to make up for today, but was she truly enjoying the moment?

“What do you think of Miyu, Yamamoto-san?”

“Hm? About our little competition over you?”

“Well… yeah.”

As expected, she saw through me. If she’d share the core of it, I’d be thrilled.

“Hmm. It’s turned into a fight for you, hasn’t it? That’s what was wanted, and now it’s necessary for Miyu-chan too.”

“Sounds like you’re doing it for her.”

“Now, yeah.”

She raised a finger and winked. These dates were supposed to be a reprieve from heartbreak, forced on her, but…

“Miyu-chan’s doing it for me, and I’m doing it for her. We’re both seriously after you because we care for each other.”

“What’s my role in this…?”

“Aren’t you happy being fought over by two cute girls?”

She replied as if it were obvious. I’ve met another girl who tossed out that logic so casually.

“If I got so in love with you that I couldn’t live apart, what then?”

“Then Miyu-chan would either step back and let you go or choose a life with all three of us.”

“What?”

No way. Miyu’s fiercely loyal, lending my body to others temporarily, but her possessiveness is unmatched. She’s said she hates me sleeping with anyone else.

“It’s not all according to plan. Unexpected things happen, and through that, we realize what’s needed for our futures. That’s something we only get by getting serious, so here we are.”

I’ve been left behind from the start, yet they’ve reached this point without me noticing. If true, it explains her actions, but why does that sister of mine always pick such convoluted solutions?

“If it’s about winning or losing, you know what kind of person Miyu-chan is, right?”

“She wouldn’t do it half-heartedly.”

She demands equal commitment without sacrifice, even for life-altering matters. That’s who Miyu is—her resolve dwarfs normal people’s values.

“Falling for such a tough sister.”

“She’s badass. That’s why I love Miyu-chan.”

That answered my initial question. They’re not at odds. Knowing that’s enough for now.

“I’ll let you know when we can date again. For now, muscle soreness will keep me down for days.”

“You’ve got Miyu-chan to handle things. I could deliver myself too.”

“Your sense of chastity is uniquely loose…”

Are there no normal girls around me?

Maybe Sachiko. I miss her right now.

“Did you just cheat in your head?”

“I think we’re past that point.”

“Hehe, true.”

I leaned back, exhaling deeply. What’s necessary for Miyu? Something I need to realize, but she won’t say it outright—it’s meaningless without feeling it.

If dating her reveals it, then I’ll do it. As her lover, I should prioritize dating her.

Why haven’t I yet? My fault, not others’. No excuses. Next, no matter what, I’m dating Miyu. Aquarium and hot springs.

“Nn… fwa… crap, sleepy…”

“I’ll wake you, so sleep if you want.”

Her gentle head-patting dimmed my hazy vision.

“Hey, Sotomichi-kun.”

Her timing was deliberate, not requiring a response, preventing me from dwelling on it. As sleep pulled me under, she murmured softly:

“You can only bet true love on one person.”

No matter how they dress it up as a mutual fight, it’s not a playful splash war.

I don’t know what they each lack that the other fulfills. But I know I’m needed for it.

If only I can provide it, they can use my body as much as they want. And I’ll think—find the best way to make these two precious people happy.