Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.4 Ladies’ Toilet (II)

Hayao’s lips curled into a slow, predatory grin, a glint of dark amusement dancing in his gaze as he studied Manami’s flustered reaction. His voice, low and gravelly with a dangerous edge, cut through the thick silence. “There’s a price for watching, you know,” he drawled, his tone dripping with authority. He gestured with a lazy flick of his hand toward his softening penis, still slick and glistening with the mingled evidence of his earlier release with Yumi. The organ hung between his thighs, both repellent and mesmerizing.

Manami’s breath hitched audibly, her wide eyes snapping downward to the object of his gesture before flitting back up to meet his unflinching stare. “I-I don’t know what to do,” she stammered, her voice a fragile thread of sound, quivering with uncertainty. 

Her hands twisted nervously at her sides, fingers tangling in the hem of her uniform as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, caught between flight and fascination.

Hayao let out a rough, throaty chuckle, the sound reverberating off the tiled walls with a mix of mockery and delight. He cast a sidelong glance at Yumi, her curvaceous figure—full hips, a generous bust, and long, shapely legs—was still flushed and radiant from their passionate exchange. Her dark hair, tousled and damp with sweat, framed a face that carried a knowing, almost wicked smile. 

“Help her out, sis,” Hayao commanded, his voice firm and unyielding, brooking no argument.

Yumi pushed off the wall with a fluid, deliberate motion, her hips swaying hypnotically as she closed the distance between herself and the trembling girl. The air seemed to thicken with her approach, her presence both comforting and commanding. She reached out, her warm, steady hands enveloping Manami’s cold, quivering ones with a gentleness that belied the intensity of the situation. Leaning in close, her breath brushed against Manami’s ear like a whisper of silk. 

“Relax,” she murmured, her voice soft yet laced with an undercurrent of assurance. “I’ll show you everything you need to know.”

Hayao’s gaze roamed over Manami as his sister took charge, his mind cataloging every detail with a detached, almost clinical precision. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful—her features were too soft, too unrefined—but there was an undeniable prettiness to her. The freckles scattering her cheeks lent her a youthful, almost cherubic charm, while her slender, reed-like body spoke of a fragility that contrasted sharply with Yumi’s robust, womanly curves. Her small breasts pressed faintly against the fabric of her uniform, hinting at a figure still on the cusp of maturity. Hayao mused silently that in a few years, time might sculpt her into something fuller, her angles softening into more pronounced contours. For now, though, her youth was its own potent allure—a stark foil to Yumi’s ripe sensuality.

With a tender yet firm grip, Yumi guided Manami’s trembling hands toward Hayao’s cock, coaxing her slender fingers to encircle the soft, slick shaft. “Touch him like this,” she instructed, her voice a soothing balm as she moved Manami’s hand in slow, rhythmic strokes, demonstrating the motion with practiced ease. The texture of him—warm, damp, and faintly sticky—seemed to startle Manami, her fingers twitching as they adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation. Yumi’s tone dipped lower, encouraging yet insistent. 

“Take him in your mouth… even if it’s dirty from earlier. It’s okay.”

Manami hesitated, her lips parting slightly as a shaky breath escaped her. She glanced up at Hayao, her eyes shimmering with uncertainty, searching his face for some sign of reprieve or judgment. But Yumi’s gentle whispers pressed her forward, a quiet mantra of reassurance, and after a fleeting moment of indecision, Manami leaned in. Her tongue brushed tentatively against the tip—hesitant, exploratory—before she summoned her courage and took him fully into her mouth, enveloping him in the wet heat of her inexperience.

Hayao groaned, a deep, guttural sound that rumbled from his chest as the sensation jolted through him. The warmth of her mouth, clumsy yet earnest, sent a surge of renewed arousal coursing through his veins. His cock twitched and stiffened almost instantly, swelling against her tongue despite her lack of skill. 

Yumi watched with a pleased, almost maternal smile, her eyes glinting with approval as she leaned closer to Manami’s flushed face. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?” she asked, her tone teasing, playful, a stark contrast to the charged intimacy of the moment.

Manami, her mouth still full of Hayao’s hardening length, managed a slight shake of her head, her eyes locking with Yumi’s in a fleeting, vulnerable exchange. The subtle motion of her head sent a shiver of pleasure rippling through Hayao, drawing another low groan from his throat as he fought to maintain control.

Yumi’s smile widened, her voice dropping to a husky, suggestive purr. “Would you like my brother to fuck you, just like he fucked me?” she asked, her words dripping with provocation, each syllable a deliberate invitation to cross another threshold. 

Manami’s eyes widened, a flash of shock mingling with an unspoken yearning. Still enveloped by Hayao’s throbbing cock, she gave a tentative nod, her agreement muffled but unmistakable as he began to thrust gently against her, testing her limits.

Yumi’s expression sharpened, her smile taking on a harder, more commanding edge. “If you want that, you’ll need to work for it,” she declared, her tone shifting from coaxing to authoritative. Her hand slid to the back of Manami’s head, fingers threading through the girl’s soft, chestnut hair with a possessive grip. With a firm push, she guided Manami down harder onto Hayao’s cock, forcing her to take him deeper than before.

Manami choked, her throat constricting around him as she struggled to accommodate the sudden depth. Her small hands flew to Hayao’s thighs, grasping for balance as her nails dug faintly into his skin. At the same time, Yumi’s free hand roamed to Manami’s chest, her fingers rough and unapologetic as they mauled the girl’s modest breasts through her uniform. She squeezed and pinched with a forceful intensity, eliciting a muffled whimper from Manami that vibrated against Hayao, heightening his pleasure.

Hayao’s breathing grew jagged, his hips bucking forward in a steady rhythm as he fucked Manami’s mouth with increasing abandon. The wet, choking sounds she made—raw, desperate, and unpracticed—drove him perilously close to the edge. The sight of Yumi dominating the pretty, freckled girl—her hands cruel yet calculated, her control absolute—ignited a primal fire within him, pushing him toward release.

But just as the pressure coiled to an unbearable peak, Hayao grunted sharply and withdrew, his cock slipping free from slender girl’s mouth with a slick, twitching shudder. He held back his climax by sheer force of will, his chest heaving as he regained composure. 

The poor girl coughed, her face a vivid scarlet streaked with tears, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Yet beneath the flush of exertion and the sheen of moisture in her eyes, a faint spark of determination glimmered—a sure sign of her growing desire for more. 

Hayao’s gaze lingered on Manami’s trembling form, his mind racing as the pieces fell into place. The way she hesitated, her answers to his sister’s questions—she was, of course, a virgin. The realization sent a dark thrill coursing through him, a primal urge fueled by the stopwatch’s perverse magic. He wanted her—wanted to claim a girl in every way possible, to be her first everything. But a twisted thought crept into his mind, warping his desire into something even more depraved. 

He wouldn’t start with her pussy. No, he’d take her tight, young ass first, before she’d even had her first kiss. The idea of violating her in such a taboo way before she’d experienced the simplest of intimacies made his pulse quicken. He kept the thought to himself, savoring the secret thrill of it.

His eyes flicked to Yumi, who stood nearby, her voluptuous figure still radiating the heat of their earlier encounter. “Don’t kiss her,” Hayao said, his voice low and commanding. “Not until I do,” he added, grinning. 

Yumi’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

Hayao turned his attention back to Manami, his tone shifting to one of authority. “Take off her pants,” he ordered Yumi, his eyes never leaving Manami’s flushed face. 

The slender girl’s breath hitched, her hands flying up to cover her eyes in a futile attempt to shield herself from the embarrassment. Yumi moved with deliberate grace, her fingers deftly unfastening Manami’s uniform skirt and sliding it down her legs. The fabric pooled at her feet, revealing plain white cotton panties that clung to her hips. With a slow, teasing motion, Yumi hooked her fingers into the waistband and tugged them down, exposing Manami’s smooth, untouched skin to the cool air of the restroom.

Manami’s hands trembled against her face, her body stiff with nervousness. Hayao stepped closer, his presence looming over her like a shadow. “Bend over,” he said, his voice a quiet command. “Place your hands on the wall.” She hesitated, her breath coming in shallow gasps, but after a moment, she obeyed, turning slowly to face the tiled wall.

 Her small hands pressed against the cold surface, her slender frame bending forward awkwardly, her back arching as she tried to steady herself.

Hayao leaned in close to Yumi, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered his next instruction. “Eat her out,” he murmured, his voice thick with anticipation. “Lick her ass, get her ready for me.” 

Yumi’s eyes gleamed with understanding, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. She moved behind Manami, her hands sliding up the girl’s thighs with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

Manami tensed as Yumi’s fingers traced the curve of her hips, her breath catching in her throat. Yumi knelt behind her, her warm breath ghosting over Manami’s exposed skin, sending shivers racing up her spine. With a slow, deliberate motion, Yumi’s tongue flicked out, tracing the sensitive skin of Manami’s inner thigh before moving higher. Manami gasped, her body jerking at the unfamiliar sensation, but Yumi’s hands held her steady, her touch both soothing and insistent.

Yumi’s tongue found its target, lapping at Manami’s tight, puckered hole with slow, languid strokes. The sensation was foreign, overwhelming, and Manami’s knees nearly buckled beneath her. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, her fingers curling against the wall as she struggled to process the waves of pleasure radiating from Yumi’s ministrations. Yumi’s tongue worked with expert precision, teasing and probing, her saliva slickening the tight entrance in preparation for what was to come.

As Yumi’s mouth worked its magic, her hand slipped between Manami’s legs, her fingers finding the swollen nub of her clitoris. She rubbed it in slow, deliberate circles, the dual stimulation sending shockwaves of pleasure through Manami’s body. The slender girl’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking involuntarily as Yumi brought her closer and closer to the edge. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her entire being focused on the exquisite torment building inside her.

Hayao watched with a dark, hungry gaze, his cock stirring back to life as he took in the sight of Manami’s surrender. The way her body trembled, the way her voice broke with each gasp—it was all too perfect. He could see the tension coiling in her, the way her muscles tightened as Yumi pushed her toward release. But just as Manami teetered on the brink, her body quivering with the promise of ecstasy, Yumi pulled back, her tongue and fingers retreating, leaving Manami gasping and desperate.

The air hung thick with the scent of arousal and the sound of Manami’s frustrated whimpers, her body aching for the release that had been so cruelly denied. Hayao’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming.

The young man was filled with a predatory hunger as he stared at the poor girl, her lithe frame trembling before him. The air was thick with the musk of arousal, sweat clinging to their skin, the dim light throwing harsh shadows across the scene. Yumi stepped aside, her lips twisting into a wicked smirk as she wiped her hand, her task finished—Manami’s tight asshole now slick and primed from her earlier efforts.

Hayao’s cock pulsed with a dark, insatiable need, the twisted thrill of what he was about to do coursing through him. He’d take her ass before she’d even tasted a kiss, before her untouched pussy knew any pleasure. The thought of defiling her completely, of owning her in the most degrading way, fueled his arousal. He kept that secret to himself, a private victory to relish.

“Stay right there, little bitch,” he snarled, his voice low and commanding as he positioned himself behind her. His hands clamped onto her hips, fingers sinking into her soft flesh with cruel force. Manami whimpered, her body tensing, but she didn’t dare move. The head of his cock pressed against her slick, tight hole, teasing the resistance for a fleeting second. Then, with a savage thrust, he buried himself deep inside her ass, the scorching heat and tightness gripping him like a fist.

Manami’s scream ripped through the room, a jagged, primal sound that bounced off the walls. Her body jolted forward, her nails scraping the tiles as she tried to steady herself. 

Hayao grinned, a dark, feral edge to it. “Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he growled, his voice thick with sadistic glee. “Never had a cock rip up this little virgin’s ass, huh? You’re just a hole for me now, you filthy slut.”

Her scream dissolved into a broken sob, her frame shaking as he drew back and slammed into her again. Each thrust was merciless, a brutal rhythm that gave her no chance to adjust, his hips crashing against her with punishing force. Manami’s cries escalated, shrill and fractured, her body quaking under the relentless assault.

“Shut up,” Hayao snapped, his patience snapping like a taut wire. He grabbed her hair, yanking her head back sharply, and crushed his lips against hers in a rough, dominating kiss. The angle twisted her awkwardly, but he didn’t care—his tongue invaded her mouth, silencing her screams as he claimed her in yet another way. Her muffled cries vibrated against his lips, her body stiffening under the dual violation. His kiss was savage. 

He pulled her off the wall, hauling her upright until they stood together, her back flush against his chest. His hands slid to her waist, gripping her as he shifted their stance. Manami’s hands scrambled, finally latching onto his forearms, her fingers digging in as she clung to him, desperate for balance.

“Hold on, you dirty little whore,” he rasped into her ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I’m gonna fuck this ass raw.” He resumed his brutal pace, driving into her with deep, punishing strokes that made her body lurch. Her screams broke free again as his lips left hers, piercing and unrestrained, echoing through the space as he pounded her relentlessly.

Yumi stepped forward and seized Manami’s face, her fingers framing the girl’s tear-stained cheeks. She pressed her lips to hers in a deep, consuming kiss. Manami’s cries were smothered, her body pinned between Hayao’s unrelenting thrusts and Yumi’s possessive embrace.

Hayao’s strokes grew wilder, his cock plunging into her ass with a ferocity that made her legs tremble. Yumi’s tongue tangled with Manami’s, her kiss a mix of hunger and control, swallowing the girl’s distress. Her hand trailed down Manami’s quivering body, fingers brushing her stomach before diving between her thighs. She found Manami’s clit, slick and swollen, and rubbed it with slow, teasing circles.

Manami moaned into Yumi’s mouth, her body arching into the touch despite the brutal pounding from behind. Yumi’s other hand roamed to her small breasts, kneading them roughly, pinching her nipples through the fabric until Manami gasped. “You’re such a nasty one,” Yumi mocked, her lips brushing Manami’s as she spoke. “Getting wet while your ass gets fucked like a cheap slut. You’re loving this, aren’t you? This is what you get for being a peeping-Tom,” She thrust two fingers deep into Manami’s dripping pussy, curling them to hit her sensitive core.

Manami’s muffled cries intensified, her body trapped in a storm of sensation as Hayao’s grip tightened. “Take it,” he snarled, his voice a guttural roar. With one final, savage thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he unloaded inside her ass, hot and thick. The feeling of his release flooding her sent a tremor through her frame, her climax hovering just out of reach.

As Hayao withdrew, his cock slipping free with a wet, lewd sound, Yumi’s fingers kept working Manami’s pussy, relentless and precise. She deepened the kiss, her tongue claiming Manami’s mouth as she pushed her over the edge. Manami’s body convulsed, a high, desperate moan escaping as her orgasm hit, waves of pleasure crashing through her. Her legs buckled, but Hayao and Yumi held her upright, sandwiching her between them.

The air was heavy with the stench of sex, their ragged breaths the only sound as Manami slumped against Yumi, dazed and spent. Hayao’s smirk was cold and triumphant.

The stopwatch pulsed with a dark, malevolent power, its rhythm echoing through the cramped restroom. The air thickened, heavy with an oppressive tension that clung to Hayao’s skin. He was sated for the moment; he would claim the young girl’s virginity another day. Maybe he would save it for his birthday or Christmas.

He loomed over Manami, her fragile form crumpled on the tiled floor, her sailor uniform torn and stained. The dark energy seeped into him, twisting his desires into something cruel and unyielding.

Hayao pulled out his phone, the stopwatch’s influence urging him to document her degradation. "Don’t move, you slut," he snarled, his voice cutting through the silence. 

Manami flinched, her torn school uniform, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the camera’s flash as he snapped picture after picture. Each click captured her vulnerability—her wide, terrified eyes, her trembling lips, the smeared remnants of her dignity. "These are mine now," he taunted, "a perfect little collection of your shame."

Manami’s breath hitched, but she couldn’t respond, her body frozen under his gaze. Hayao’s smirk widened as he lowered his phone, his attention shifting to his cock, still reeking with the sharp, foul stench of her asshole from their earlier violation. "Time to clean up your mess," he said, grabbing her hair and yanking her forward.

She recoiled instantly, shaking her head violently. "No, please!" she cried, her voice raw and desperate. Her hands pushed against his thighs, weak and trembling, but Hayao’s grip was unrelenting. "I can’t—please, no more!" she begged, tears spilling anew.

"Shut up and do it," he growled, forcing her face closer. "Time to taste your shitter. You don’t get to say no, you filthy bitch." 

Her resistance crumbled as he shoved his cock past her lips, her gagging protests muffled by the intrusion. The taste and smell overwhelmed her, her body heaving as she reluctantly licked him clean, her sobs vibrating against his skin. Hayao groaned, savoring her disgust, the stopwatch’s power amplifying his sadistic thrill. "That’s it, taste yourself," he mocked. "You’re nothing but a dirty whore now."

When he was satisfied, he pulled out, leaving her coughing and retching on the floor. He zipped up his pants with a casual air, then turned to Yumi, who leaned against the wall with a sly, amused smile. Without a word, he grabbed her, pulling her into a deep, hungry kiss. Their lips locked, tongues clashing, Yumi’s soft moans a stark contrast to the poor girl’s broken gasps. Manami, still sprawled on the floor, watched them in a daze, her mind struggling to process the sibling lovers’ intimacy against her own torment.

Hayao broke the kiss, his eyes snapping back to Manami. "Give me your phone number," he demanded, thrusting his phone toward her. 

She blinked, confusion cutting through her shock. "W-what? Why?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Because I fucking said so," he snapped, his tone cold and final. 

Her hands shook as she took the phone, fumbling to enter her details. Hayao watched her every move, then sent a test message. A faint buzz sounded from her schoolbag in the nearby toilet stall, confirming the connection. He nodded, pocketing his phone with a satisfied grunt.

Taking Yumi’s hand, he headed for the door. "Let’s go," he said, his voice light, as if leaving a casual hangout. 

Yumi glanced back at Manami, still crumpled and trembling, and flashed a mocking wave. 

"See ya!" she chirped, her grin dripping with venom. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Manami alone, the stopwatch’s dark echo fading.

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