Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.5 Escalation

A chorus of insect calls filled the warm evening, their hum a constant backdrop to the quiet house. Yumi had left that afternoon, her backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder, announcing she’d be staying at a female friend’s house to work on a university project. Hayao had nodded, feigning indifference, but his pulse quickened at the thought of being alone with Mai. The absence of his sister was a rare gift, a chance to indulge in the dark desires that had consumed him since the sauna incident.

Dinner was a simple affair, served in the modern kitchen with its sleek appliances and a nod to tradition in the form of a small wooden table. Mai had prepared cold soba noodles, the glossy strands paired with a dipping sauce of soy and dashi, alongside golden vegetable tempura. The meal was artfully arranged, a testament to her care despite her long hours as a hostess. Hayao ate mechanically, his fork scraping the plate as his eyes stole glances at Mai. She wore a loose t-shirt and yoga pants, the fabric clinging to her curvy hips and toned thighs. Her dyed blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few strands framing her face, flushed from the summer heat.

“How was school today?” Mai asked, her voice light as she dipped a piece of tempura into the sauce.

“Fine,” Hayao mumbled, his thoughts elsewhere. He imagined her body beneath him, her skin slick with sweat, her breasts heaving. The stopwatch in his pocket felt heavy, a constant reminder of his power.

Mai tilted her head, her dark eyes studying him. “You’re quiet tonight. Everything okay?”

He forced a smile, his heart racing. “Yeah, just tired.”

She reached across the table, her hand brushing his as she patted it. The touch was electric, sending a jolt straight to his groin. “Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re doing great.”

Hayao nodded, looking away to hide the hunger in his eyes. They finished dinner in near silence, the clink of dishes the only sound. As they cleared the table, their hands brushed again, and Hayao savored the fleeting contact, his cock stirring in his shorts. Mai hummed a soft tune, oblivious to the storm brewing in her son’s mind.

“I’m exhausted,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. Her shirt lifted, revealing a sliver of her toned stomach. “I think I’ll head to bed early.”

“Goodnight, Mom,” Hayao said, his voice tight. She gave him a quick hug, her breasts pressing against his chest for a moment. He inhaled deeply, her jasmine perfume mingling with the faint musk of her skin. “Sleep well,” she murmured, then disappeared down the hallway.

Hayao retreated to his room, closing the door with a soft click. The space was sparse: a samurai poster on the wall, a desk cluttered with schoolbooks, a family photo on his nightstand. He sat on his bed, the stopwatch clutched in his hand, its cold metal grounding him. His heart pounded, a mix of anticipation and nerves. He had planned this since the sauna, where he’d first tasted the forbidden thrill of using the stopwatch on Mai. That had been rushed, constrained by the public setting. Tonight, in the privacy of their home, he could take his time.

He waited, the minutes dragging. He tried to read a manga, but the pages blurred, his mind consumed by images of Mai’s body. At 10 PM, the house was silent, the outside hum of the city the only sound. He slipped off his shoes and crept down the hallway, his bare feet silent on the polished wood. Mai’s door was slightly ajar, a sliver of moonlight spilling into the corridor. He pushed it open, wincing at the faint creak.

Her bedroom was a sanctuary, reflecting her dual life as a mother and hostess. A Western-style bed dominated the room, its headboard carved with floral patterns. A vanity held bottles of perfume and makeup, their labels glinting in the soft glow of a lotus-shaped nightlight. Screens covered the windows, filtering the moonlight into a gentle haze. Mai lay on her side, facing away, a thin summer blanket draped over her hips. Her breathing was deep and steady, a soft rhythm in the stillness.

Hayao approached, his eyes drinking in her form. She wore a pale blue silk nightgown, its fabric clinging to her curves, riding up to expose her smooth thighs. Her blonde hair fanned across the pillow, a golden halo in the dim light. He stood over her, his cock already hardening, and pulled the stopwatch from his pocket. With a deep breath, he clicked the button.

Time stopped. The air grew thick, the cicadas silenced, the moonlight frozen in its dance across the floor. Mai was a statue, her body perfectly still, a canvas for his desires. Hayao’s hands trembled as he reached out, pulling the blanket away. The nightgown hugged her body, outlining her voluptuous breasts, her toned waist, her curvy hips. He traced his fingers along her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin, soft and yielding.

He lifted the hem of her nightgown, revealing her body inch by inch. Her thighs, strong from years at the gym, parted slightly as he adjusted her position. Her hips flared invitingly, leading to her flat stomach, marked faintly by stretch marks from pregnancy—a reminder of her motherhood that only fueled his taboo lust. Finally, he exposed her breasts, full and heavy, spilling free without a bra. Her dark nipples stood out against her pale skin, already slightly erect in the cool air.

Hayao’s mouth watered. He cupped one breast, its weight filling his hand. It was firm yet soft, the flesh molding to his touch. He squeezed gently, watching it spill between his fingers. His thumb brushed her nipple, circling it, feeling it harden further. He leaned down, taking the nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily. The taste was sweet, laced with her body lotion, a forbidden nectar. He swirled his tongue around it, then moved to the other breast, nuzzling its warmth, losing himself in its softness.

His cock throbbed, straining against his shorts. He stood, shedding his clothes quickly, his erection springing free. He straddled her chest, positioning himself carefully. He placed his cock between her breasts, using his hands to press them together, creating a tight, warm channel. The sensation was exquisite, her flesh enveloping him completely. He thrust slowly, savoring the friction, the head of his cock peeking out with each movement. Her breasts jiggled slightly with his rhythm, a sight that drove him wild.

He could feel his orgasm building, the pleasure intense, but he didn’t want to cum yet. There was more to explore, more to claim. Reluctantly, he stopped, his breath ragged, and moved down her body. He spread her legs wider, noting with relish that she wore no underwear in the privacy of her room. Her pussy was bare, smooth from waxing, its pink folds slightly parted. A bead of moisture glistened at her entrance, a sign of her body’s natural response even in frozen time.

Hayao inhaled deeply, her scent faint and clean, a musky sweetness that spoke of her healthy diet and meticulous hygiene. He leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her. She was sweet, with a hint of salt, a flavor that made his head spin. He parted her lips with his fingers, exploring her folds, finding her clit and circling it with his tongue. It swelled under his attention, and he sucked gently, imagining her moans, her hips bucking against his mouth.

In his mind, he was worshipping the place from which he came, a twisted reverence that heightened his arousal. “This is where I began,” he thought, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at her entrance. He inserted a finger, feeling her tightness, then added another, curling them to find her G-spot. Even frozen, her body was perfect, a temple for his desires.

After several minutes, he decided to experiment with the stopwatch. He had discovered its settings allowed him to adjust the time freeze’s intensity. Reducing the power would let time flow slightly, perhaps allowing Mai some awareness or movement. Curious, he turned the dial down a notch.

The air shimmered, and Mai’s body relaxed slightly. Her breathing deepened, her eyelids fluttering. She let out a soft sigh, her lips parting. Hayao watched, his heart pounding, as she murmured something incoherent. Then, she murmured, “Daigo…darling, is that you?”

The name sent a thrill through him. Daigo, his father, gone for years, yet still haunting her dreams. The thought that she was dreaming of her late husband while he claimed her body was intoxicating, a perverse victory over his father’s memory.

A wicked idea formed. Hayao moved up the bed, positioning himself near her head. The young man moved to her face and turned her face gently towards him, pressing the tip of his cock against her lips. To his surprise, her mouth opened slightly, and he slid inside. Her lips closed around him, warm and wet, and she began to suck softly, as if instinctively responding to her dream.

Hayao gasped, the sensation overwhelming. Her tongue moved lazily against him, her lips tightening as she sucked. He thrust gently, careful not to go too deep, savoring the forbidden pleasure. In her dream, she thought he was Daigo, and that knowledge pushed him closer to the edge. He was stealing his father’s place, claiming his mother, Mai.

Her sucking grew more insistent, her head moving slightly as if to take more of him. Hayao couldn’t hold back. With a muffled groan, he came, his seed spilling into her mouth. She swallowed reflexively, her throat working as she remained lost in her dream. A drop of cum dribbled down her chin, and Hayao wiped it away with a tissue, his hands shaking.

As the pleasure faded, guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave. What had he done? This was his mother, the woman who had raised him, loved him. He had violated her trust, used her body without consent. The stopwatch’s power was a curse as much as a gift, tempting him to cross lines he could never uncross.

He adjusted her nightgown, covering her modesty, and clicked the stopwatch to full power, freezing time again. He arranged the blanket as it was, ensuring no trace of his presence remained. He checked her face, her body, for any signs of disturbance, but she looked peaceful, untouched. With a final glance, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Back in his room, Hayao collapsed onto his bed, his heart racing. The adrenaline still coursed through him, but it was tainted by shame. He clutched the stopwatch and turned off its power. Its weight was a reminder of his sin. He replayed the night in his mind: her breasts in his hands, her taste on his tongue, her lips around his cock. It was ecstasy, but it was wrong.

He tried to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t rest. He thought of the sauna, how it had emboldened him to take this step. There, the risk of discovery had added a thrill, but here, in the intimacy of Mai’s bedroom, it was more personal, more damning. He remembered her whispering his father’s name, and a pang of jealousy stabbed him. Even in her dreams, she belonged to his father. Yet he had taken her, if only for a moment.

Hayao’s cock stirred again at the memory, and he touched himself, stroking slowly as he relived the sensations. He imagined future encounters: Mai in the kitchen, bent over the counter, the stopwatch freezing her mid-motion; or in the shower, water cascading over her body as he explored her. The possibilities were endless, and the stopwatch made them all possible.

But beneath the lust was a growing unease. What if Mai sensed something? Fitfully, the young boy somehow found sleep.

***

The next morning, the scent of coffee and toast woke him. He dragged himself to the kitchen, where Mai was preparing breakfast. She wore a loose sundress, her hair tied back, her face fresh and radiant. She looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Hayao. Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” he lied, taking a seat at the table. His eyes lingered on her, searching for any sign of suspicion, but she seemed normal.

She set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast before him and sat down with her own. As they ate, she stirred her coffee thoughtfully. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “I had the strangest dream last night.”

Hayao’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh? What about?”

“It was about your father,” she replied, her eyes distant. “It felt so real, like he was really there with me. We were… together.” She blushed slightly, looking away. “It’s silly, but it was so vivid.”

Hayao swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “That’s nice, Mom. Maybe he’s watching over you.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, but there was a hint of confusion in her gaze. “I could almost feel him.”

They finished breakfast in silence, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts. Hayao’s guilt gnawed at him, but so did his desire. He knew he would use the stopwatch again; it was only a matter of time. As he left for school, he glanced back at Mai, washing dishes, her hips swaying gently. She was his obsession, his forbidden goddess, but would he choose to claim her again?

Option 1: Hayao holds back his feelings. His guilt gnaws at him.

Option 2: Hayao gives in to his lust, escalating things further.