Chronolust Temptation [18+] High S*xual Content
Ch.3[b] Onsen Trip with Minami

Hayao’s smile widened, a rare softness breaking through his usual sharp-edged confidence as he looked at Minami, sprawled beside him on the bed. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone that made her sit up a little straighter despite herself. “How about an onsen? Somewhere quiet, away from all this.” He waved a hand toward the window, dismissing the city’s chaos with a flick of his wrist.

Minami tilted her head, and she propped herself up on one elbow, her hazel eyes narrowing as she studied him. “An onsen?” she echoed, skepticism thick in her voice, though a faint spark of intrigue flickered beneath it. “You mean, like, hot springs?”

“Yeah,” Hayao said, sitting up slightly, his enthusiasm bubbling over as he leaned closer. His dark hair fell messily into his eyes, and his broad shoulders shifted under his faded T-shirt, exuding a restless energy. “There’s one I heard about from a friend. Out in the countryside, surrounded by mountains. Perfect place to unwind after graduation.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. 

She pursed her lips, weighing the idea with her usual mix of pragmatism and defiance. Minami wasn’t one to admit how much the city had worn her down—the late nights, the pressure, the constant noise that buzzed in her skull even when she tried to sleep. An onsen sounded like a hassle: packing, traveling, leaving the familiar chaos behind. But the thought of escaping, of soaking in hot water with nothing but mountains around her, tugged at something she didn’t want to name. 

“Sounds like a hassle,” she muttered, her tone deliberately flat, but her eyes betrayed her, glinting with curiosity. “Fine. When?”

“Day after we graduate,” he said decisively, rolling onto his side to face her fully. His gaze locked onto hers, intense and unyielding, as if he could convince her through sheer force of will. “We’ll ditch this place, pack some stuff, and go. Just you and me.” There was a quiet promise in his words, a thread of something deeper that made her stomach flip despite her best efforts to ignore it.

Minami arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. She couldn’t resist needling him—it was their dance, after all. “Oh, how romantic,” she said, her sarcasm sharp but playful, a shield she wielded like a blade. “What’s next, you gonna propose to me there?” She tilted her head mockingly, picturing him on one knee in a cloud of mist, and the image was so absurd she almost laughed.

Hayao’s laugh broke the tension, rough and genuine, rumbling from his chest like a storm rolling in. He reached out, his hand sliding down to squeeze her hip, his fingers warm and firm against her skin. 

“Maybe I will,” he shot back, his grin turning wicked. “You’d look cute saying yes with your hair all wet, steam curling around you like some kind of water nymph.” His voice dipped, teasing but laced with a heat that sent a shiver down her spine.

She swatted his hand away, rolling her eyes in exaggerated exasperation. 

“Dream on,” she muttered, but she didn’t pull away entirely, letting his arm stay draped over her as they settled back into the sheets. 

His warmth was a tether, grounding her in the chaos of her thoughts, and though she’d never admit it, the idea lingered—her hair damp, the steam softening everything, Hayao’s dark eyes fixed on her with that infuriating mix of cockiness and something softer. She buried the thought, but it stayed, warm and persistent, as the city hummed outside.

***

The planned day came too fast, the sky still streaked with pink as Hayao and Minami met at the bus station. Their backpacks were slung over their shoulders, stuffed with clothes and a few snacks, which Minami had grudgingly packed. The city was just waking up, its streets quieter than usual, the air cool and sharp with the promise of a clear day. They boarded the bus bound for the countryside, settling into seats near the back. Minami claimed the window, her blonde hair tied back in a messy bun that threatened to unravel with every jolt of the road. She stared out as the cityscape faded—towering buildings shrinking into fields, then hills, then forests that stretched endlessly under a pale blue sky.

Hayao sat beside her, one hand resting casually on her thigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns against her jeans. The bus rattled along, its engine a low hum that blended with the soft murmur of other passengers. Minami glanced at him, noting the way his dark hair fell into his eyes, the relaxed curve of his shoulders. He looked different here, away from the city’s grip—less guarded, more at peace. 

“So, why an onsen?” she asked, breaking the silence, her voice cutting through the gentle sway of the ride.

He turned to her, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thought it’d be nice to get away. Just relax, you know? Plus, my friend said this place is unreal—mountains, springs, the whole deal.” He squeezed her thigh lightly, his touch familiar and warm. 

She nodded, turning back to the window. The scenery was shifting—golden fields giving way to dense pines, their needles glinting in the sunlight. “It’s pretty,” she admitted, almost to herself. 

Hayao’s hand found hers, their fingers intertwining. “I’m glad you came,” he said softly, his voice stripped of its usual bravado.

She didn’t pull away, letting their hands stay linked. “Me too,” she whispered, barely audible over the hum of the bus.

The ride stretched on, peaceful and unhurried. Hayao dozed off for a while, his head against the window, while Minami listened to music through her earbuds, stealing glances at him. When they reached their stop, they stepped off into crisp mountain air, the faint scent of sulfur teasing their senses. 

The onsen was half a mile away, so they started walking, the gravel path crunching under their sneakers. Tall trees loomed on either side, their branches rustling in the breeze, and small stone lanterns dotted the way, their weathered surfaces hinting at years of quiet watchfulness.

Hayao pointed out a bird flitting between branches—a flash of red against green—and Minami teased him about being a secret nature nerd, though she was quietly impressed. The air grew cooler as they climbed, the sulfur scent stronger, until the trees parted to reveal the inn: a traditional wooden structure with tiled roofs and glowing paper screens. 

Minami whistled low. “Okay, I’ll give you this—it’s really pretty.”

Hayao grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Told you,” he said, leading her to the entrance.

***

Inside, the inn was a haven, a sanctuary of calm—polished wood floors, soft lantern light, the faint aroma of cedar and incense. They were greeted by the okami, a woman in her late twenties whose presence seemed to fill the space without effort. Her long black hair was pinned up in a graceful twist, framing delicate features, and a small beauty mark under her left eye added a striking allure. Her deep indigo kimono, adorned with subtle floral patterns, hugged her figure, accentuating her large breasts and hinting at curves beneath its refined elegance. She was a Yamato Nadeshiko in every sense—poised, serene—yet there was a raw sexuality in her confident stance, the way her dark eyes flickered with knowing warmth.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and rich, like honey over silk. She bowed slightly, her gaze shifting between Hayao and Minami with a wistful softness. “I’m Chisato, the owner here. My mother ran this place before me, and I’ve taken it over since she passed. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Hayao nodded, his usual swagger muted by the inn’s quiet dignity. “Thanks,” he said, his tone unusually respectful. “We’re just here to relax.”

Minami offered a small smile, her wariness easing under Chisato’s calm aura. “Yeah, same,” she said, her voice softer now, the edge dulled by the serenity around her.

Chisato’s lips curved faintly, her eyes lingering as if she saw more than they let on. “I’ll show you to your room,” she said, turning to lead them down a hallway. 

The floorboards creaked softly underfoot, the distant trickle of spring water a soothing undertone. Minami watched Chisato’s graceful stride, the subtle sway of her hips, and glanced at Hayao. He was looking too—of course he was—but he kept his focus mostly ahead, a small victory she noted with wry amusement.

Their room was spacious yet intimate: tatami mats, a low table by a window framing misty mountains, folded futons in the corner, and a sliding door to a private bath. Chisato gestured inside. 

“Make yourselves at home,” she said, then bowed and left, her presence lingering like a faint perfume. “Please call me if you need anything else.”

Hayao dropped their bags, stretching with a groan. “Not bad, huh?” he said, glancing at Minami.

She shrugged, setting her bag down carefully. “It’s fine,” she said, but her eyes flicked to the window, betraying her awe at the misty peaks. “Better than a love hotel, I guess.”

He stepped closer, smirking. “Did you bring the swimming uniform?”

She froze, hand on her bag. “What?”

“The navy one-piece,” he said, grin widening. “The cute one that hugs your figure just right.”

She groaned, unzipping her bag. “Yes, I brought it, you perv,” she muttered, pulling it out. “Happy now?”

Hayao leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Even naked, you look like you’re wearing a swim costume with those tan lines,” he teased, his voice warm with that familiar heat.

Her cheeks flushed, irritation flaring as she clutched the swimsuit. “Oh, wow, so romantic,” she snapped, sarcasm dripping. “I’m going to change.” She stormed to the bathroom, slamming the door.

Hayao chuckled, unpacking his trunks and sitting on the tatami. The room was quiet without her, the onsen’s hum a soft backdrop. His mind drifted to Chisato—her elegance, that mix of grace and allure—but he refocused. He was here with Minami.

The door slid open, and Minami emerged. The navy one-piece clung to her, high-cut legs accentuating her hips, tan lines peeking out against the dark fabric. She crossed her arms, glaring. “Well? How do I look?”

Hayao’s eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate. “Perfect for fucking,” he said, low and blunt.

She rolled her eyes, turning to the window to hide her flush. “God, you’re predictable. Can you go one day without thinking with your dick?”

He laughed, stepping behind her, close but not touching. “Not when you’re around,” he murmured, breath brushing her ear.

She spun, jabbing his chest. “Keep dreaming, hotshot. You’re lucky I’m here.”

He caught her wrist, grip light, grin softening. “Yeah, I am.”

She faltered, lips parting, then yanked free, huffing. “Whatever,” she muttered, softer now.

His cock stirred beneath his trunks, a slow burn of desire igniting in his gut. “Minami,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She turned, her quizzical eyes locking onto his, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “What now? You going to fuck me in this?”

“You look so fucking hot in this,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to her chest, where the damp fabric stretched tight, hinting at the faint outline of her nipples. 

A flush crept up Minami’s neck, staining her cheeks pink, but she didn’t retreat. “You’re such a perv,” she shot back, her voice laced with mock indignation, though the playful edge betrayed her. She was used to his bluntness, his unfiltered desire, but here, in the quiet intimacy of the onsen, it hit differently—deeper, more charged.

His hand slid to her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her closer, their bodies nearly brushing. “When it comes to you, yeah,” he admitted, his breath warm against her ear. “Kneel.”

Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise dancing across her features. They’d played this game before, but today his tone carried a weight, a command that brooked no argument. She held his gaze, searching for something—intent, perhaps, or reassurance—before sinking slowly to her knees, her hands resting lightly on his thighs. The tatami mats crinkled beneath her, the sound a soft counterpoint to the pounding of Hayao’s heart.

He looked down at her, and the sight stole his breath. Minami, on her knees, her face level with his crotch, her lips parted in quiet anticipation—it was a vision that stirred both lust and a fierce possessiveness. She was his, in this moment, wholly and completely. He unbuttoned himself with trembling fingers, letting them drop to the floor, his cock springing free, hard and eager, the tip already glistening with need.

Minami didn’t hesitate. Her hands found him, fingers wrapping around his shaft with a practiced ease that sent a shiver up his spine. She stroked him slowly, her grip firm yet tender, and Hayao groaned, his hands tangling in her damp hair. But this time, there was a reverence in her touch, a deliberate care that went beyond their usual rhythm. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to taste him, licking the sensitive tip before taking him deeper, her lips stretching around his girth.

“Fuck, Minami,” he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re getting good at sucking cock.”

She hummed in response, the vibration rippling through him, igniting every nerve. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and there was a glint of pride in them, a quiet confidence that made his chest tighten. She pulled back slightly, her tongue tracing the veins along his shaft, then lavished attention on his balls, cradling them gently as she sucked one into her mouth. Her other hand continued to stroke him, the dual sensations driving him to the edge of control.

Hayao’s grip tightened in her hair, guiding her back to his cock. “Deeper,” he urged, his voice strained with need. 

The young girl complied, taking him as far as she could, her throat relaxing to accommodate his length. She gagged slightly, a soft sound that only fueled his desire, but she didn’t stop, her determination evident in the set of her jaw. He thrust gently, fucking her mouth with measured restraint, savoring the wet heat, the way her lips slid over him.

Inside, Hayao marveled at her. She was fierce, independent—yet here she was, submitting to him, giving him this. It wasn’t just physical; it was trust, a bond forged by a twisted power.

Minami, for her part, felt a strange mix of power and vulnerability. Kneeling before him, she could see the effect she had—his ragged breaths, the way his hands trembled in her hair. She wanted to make this good for him, to show him something beyond their usual play. The onsen had softened her edges, stripped away the noise of their daily lives, and left her raw, open. As she sucked him, she focused on his reactions, memorizing every groan, every twitch, storing them away like treasures.

After minutes of this exquisite torture, Hayao knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. He wanted more—needed more. With a gentle tug on her hair, he pulled her back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. “Get on the futon,” he said, his tone firm, leaving no room for debate.

Minami wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes still locked on his with a mix of desire and defiance. She rose and moved to the futon, lying back on the soft bedding, her legs parting slightly in invitation. Hayao knelt between her thighs, his hands sliding up her legs, feeling the smooth, damp fabric of the swimsuit beneath his fingers. He pulled the crotch aside, exposing her pussy, pink and glistening with arousal.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his fingers teasing her entrance, slipping inside just enough to make her gasp. “You want this as much as I do.”

Minami bit her lip, nodding faintly. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice a whisper lost in the quiet.

Hayao grinned, positioning himself at her entrance. He rubbed the head of his cock against her slit, teasing her, drawing out the moment until she squirmed beneath him. Then, with one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her completely. Minami’s back arched, a soft cry escaping her lips as he stretched her, the sensation overwhelming yet perfect.

He began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm that rocked the futon beneath them. Each stroke was deep, purposeful, hitting that spot inside her that made her tremble. Minami’s legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his back, urging him deeper. 

“Faster,” she pleaded, her voice breathy, needy.

Hayao obliged, increasing his pace, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room—a sharp, rhythmic slap that mingled with their gasps and moans. The futon creaked, the tatami mats shifting slightly beneath their weight. Sweat beaded on their skin, the air growing thick and warm, heavy with the scent of their exertion.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth, mirroring the movements of his cock. Minami kissed back with equal ferocity, her hands roaming his back, nails leaving faint red trails. When he broke the kiss, he trailed his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking, marking her skin with small, possessive bruises. He moved lower, tugging the straps of her swimsuit down to expose her breasts, the fabric bunching around her waist. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak as she arched into him.

“Hayao,” she whimpered, her hands clutching his shoulders. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he grunted, his thrusts growing erratic, driven by the tightening coil of pleasure in his gut. He slipped a hand between them, finding her clit and rubbing it in tight, relentless circles. Minami’s eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent ‘O’ as the sensation pushed her over the edge.

She came with a cry, her pussy clenching around his cock, waves of pleasure crashing through her. The sight of her unraveling—her flushed face, her trembling body—sent Hayao tumbling after her. He buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he released inside her, filling her with his warmth.

They rode out their orgasms together, bodies shuddering, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. Hayao collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms, their slick skin pressed close. For a moment, they simply lay there, the world reduced to the sound of their breathing, the steady thump of their hearts.

Minami stirred first, shifting to sit up slightly. Without a word, she leaned down, taking his softening cock into her mouth, cleaning him with gentle, practiced licks. Hayao smirked, stroking her hair as she worked. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft but approving. “You always know what I want.”

She pulled back, her nose wrinkling slightly. “I’ll never get used to the taste,” she muttered, half-joking, half-serious, her eyes flicking up to his with a hint of annoyance.

Hayao chuckled, pulling her back into his embrace. “Maybe not, but you do it anyway.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then grinned mischievously. “You know, you should’ve brought your old school uniform too. We could’ve had some real fun with that.”

Minami groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Seriously? The swimsuit wasn’t enough for you?”

“Hey,” he teased, holding her tighter, “a guy can dream, right? Besides, you look hot in anything—or nothing.”

She shook her head, but a small, affectionate smile curved her lips. “Pervert,” she said softly, and this time, it sounded almost like a caress.

They lay in comfortable silence, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting the room in twilight hues. 

Minami, nestled against him, let her thoughts wander too. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but here, with Hayao, she felt safe, wanted. 

“Next time,” she murmured after a while, her voice muffled against his skin, “maybe I’ll bring the uniform. Just to shut you up.”

Hayao’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh? So you’re admitting it’d be hot?”

“Don’t get cocky,” she warned, poking his chest, but her smile betrayed her amusement. “It’s a maybe.”

Slowly, she drifts to sleep.

Hayao Miyazaki decides to…

Option 1: Find Chisato. He saw her looking at him earlier. Perhaps he can score with her?

Option 2: Stay with Minami.