After-Hours Sake

The faint scent of warm sake and grilled eel still hung in the air of the empty restaurant, mixing with the sharp edge of her perfume. I watched Aiko lean across the low table, her black hair slipping over one shoulder like ink. She was my client, the Japanese woman who’d hired me six weeks ago for private fitness sessions, and tonight her eyes held a hunger that had nothing to do with protein shakes.

“We shouldn’t be here after closing,” I said, voice low.

Aiko smiled, slow and knowing. “The owner is my uncle. He gave me the key. Said I could stay as long as I wanted.” She poured more sake into my cup, the liquid glinting under the single lantern left burning. “Besides, you’ve been staring at my ass during every lunge for weeks, Ken. I thought it was time we stopped pretending.”

My pulse kicked hard. She wore a simple silk blouse and tight skirt that hugged the firm curves I’d coached into shape. I reached across, brushing my fingers along her wrist. Her skin was warm, smooth. “You’re sure?”

Instead of answering she rose, came around the table, and straddled my lap in one fluid motion. Her mouth found mine, soft at first, then deeper. We kissed like we had all night, slow and wet, tongues sliding lazily while my hands roamed up her thighs, pushing the skirt higher.

“Touch me,” she whispered against my lips, breath trembling. “I’ve wanted your hands on me without the gym gloves.”

I slid my palm between her legs, finding the damp lace of her panties already soaked. She rocked against my fingers with a tiny moan that went straight to my cock. I rubbed her clit in slow circles through the fabric until she gasped, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to mine.

“Ken… inside. Please.”

I hooked the lace aside and pushed two fingers into her tight pussy. She was slick, hot, gripping me with every gentle thrust. Her hips rolled in that same controlled rhythm I taught her during planks, only now it was pure need.

“Like that?” I murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

“Yes… deeper. I want to feel all of you.” Her voice was husky, accented, every word sending fresh heat through me.

We stayed like that for long minutes, kissing, breathing each other in, my fingers stroking her while my other hand slipped inside her blouse to cup a small, perfect breast. Her nipple hardened against my thumb. She whimpered softly every time I curled my fingers just right, chasing that spot that made her thighs shake.

Eventually she reached down, unzipped me with eager hands, and freed my aching cock. Her fingers wrapped around the thick shaft, stroking slowly, matching the pace I set inside her. “So big,” she breathed, eyes half-lidded. “I’ve imagined this stretching me.”

She lifted herself, positioned the head at her entrance, and sank down inch by inch. We both groaned as her pussy swallowed me, tight and velvety. Once I was buried to the hilt she paused, forehead against mine again, just feeling me throb inside her.

“Move when you’re ready,” I whispered, hands on her waist.

Aiko began to ride me, unhurried rolls of her hips that dragged her clit against my pelvis each time. The wet sounds of her pussy sliding up and down my cock filled the quiet restaurant. We kissed constantly, tongues lazy, lips brushing, sharing breath while she ground deeper.

“Feels so good,” she panted between kisses. “Your cock… filling me completely.”

I thrust up gently to meet her, keeping the rhythm tender. My hands roamed her back, her ass, squeezing the firm cheeks I’d watched sweat through countless squats. She shivered when I traced a finger around her tight little anus, not pushing in, just teasing.

“Next time,” she whispered, voice breaking into a soft moan.

Her pace quickened slightly, still controlled, still focused on every sensation. I felt her pussy flutter, tightening around me as her orgasm built. I kissed her harder, swallowing her cries, one hand slipping between us to circle her swollen clit.

“Come for me, Aiko.”

She did, back arching, pussy clenching in long, rhythmic pulses that milked my cock. Her quiet Japanese curse hissed against my mouth as she shook through it. I held her close, kissing her through every wave until she slumped against my chest, breathing hard.

But we weren’t finished. I stood, still buried inside her, and carried her to the low counter near the sushi bar. I laid her back on the cool wood, lifted her legs over my shoulders, and slid back in with one smooth stroke. This angle let me go deeper. Her eyes widened, lips parting on a silent cry.

“Again,” she begged softly. “Fuck me like this.”

I rocked into her, steady and deep, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing. We kept kissing, my hands caressing her breasts, rolling her nipples while she whispered filthy encouragement in both languages. Her second climax hit faster, pussy gushing around my cock as she trembled.

I couldn’t hold back. With a low groan I buried myself to the root and came hard, flooding her with hot spurts of cum. She held my face, kissing me through it, whispering my name like a secret.

When I finally pulled out, a thick trail of our mixed juices leaked from her flushed pussy onto the counter. She looked up at me, eyes sparkling with mischief and promise.

“Lock the door properly, Ken,” she said, voice husky. “We’re not leaving until morning.”