Chapter 12: Toilet Surprise
The slam of the bathroom door cracked against the tiled wall like a gunshot. Hana gasped, her body jerking instinctively, the thin stream of urine hitting the toilet water faltering. Before the echo died, Akari was there. Not looming, but filling the cramped space with her compact intensity, the scent of vinyl records and ozone clinging to her leather jacket.
"Hey," Akari breathed, her voice low and rough, already stripping the jacket off, letting it crumple onto the damp bathmat. Her dark eyes, sharp and hungry, locked onto Hana’s wide, startled ones reflected in the mirror above the sink.
Hana flushed crimson, trying to pull her thighs together on the cold porcelain seat. "Akari! I’m… I’m busy!"
"See that," Akari murmured, a predatory half-smile touching her lips. She didn’t hesitate. Her calloused hands, knuckles still faintly bruised from yesterday’s gym session, pushed Hana’s knees apart firmly, effortlessly overcoming her weak resistance. The cool air hit Hana’s exposed skin, making her shiver violently. The trickle of urine started again, a helpless, mortifying release. "Keep going."
Hana whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut, humiliation warring with the sudden, shocking thrill of Akari’s dominance. She felt utterly exposed, pinned not just by Akari’s hands but by her unwavering gaze. Akari crouched, her worn jeans stretching tight over powerful thighs. She leaned in, her breath warm against Hana’s inner thigh.
The wet sound of urine hitting water filled the tiny room. Akari watched, unblinking, fascinated. Then, as the stream weakened, she moved. Her tongue, hot and shockingly soft, traced a wet, deliberate line up the sensitive skin of Hana’s inner thigh, starting just above her knee. Hana cried out, her hips jerking, the last drops spattering uselessly. Akari didn’t flinch. She licked upwards again, slower this time, bypassing the source, tracing the tendon towards the crease of Hana’s hip. Her tongue was rough velvet, igniting trails of fire beneath Hana’s skin.
"Fuck," Akari breathed against her skin, the vibration sending another jolt through Hana. "You smell… perfect." Her hands slid up Hana’s trembling thighs, thumbs pressing into the yielding flesh just below her hip bones, holding her wide open. "All warm and salty." Her head dipped lower. Hana felt the soft puff of Akari’s exhale against her damp curls, then the flat, wet pressure of her tongue licking firmly upwards, parting her folds, tasting the lingering wetness mixed with her own arousal.
Hana’s head thumped back against the toilet tank. A choked moan tore from her throat. "Akari… please…" The plea was ragged, desperate, meaning everything and nothing.
Akari hummed, the sound vibrating deep into Hana’s core. Her tongue delved deeper, seeking, exploring with a focused intensity that left Hana gasping. It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming. Possessive. Her nose nudged Hana’s clit, sending sparks skittering down her legs. Akari’s hands tightened, fingers digging in slightly, anchoring Hana against the onslaught of sensation. She licked broad, slow strokes, then focused into tight, rapid circles directly on Hana’s clit, relentless.
Hana’s fingers scrabbled against the cold porcelain, finding no purchase. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against Akari’s face, met only by the immovable pressure of Akari’s grip and the unwavering assault of her tongue. The world narrowed to the slick sounds, Akari’s muffled groans of pleasure, the sharp scent of her own release mingling with the faint ammonia tang, and the overwhelming, dizzying pressure building low in her belly.
"Look at me," Akari commanded, pulling back slightly, her chin glistening. Her eyes burned into Hana’s, dark and demanding. "Look at me while I make you come."
Hana forced her eyes open, meeting that fierce gaze. The intimacy was terrifying, exhilarating. Akari’s tongue plunged back in, curling, flicking, relentless. Hana watched, mesmerized, as Akari devoured her, her own reflection in the mirror a blur of flushed skin, tangled black hair, and wide, dark eyes filled with stunned pleasure. The spiderweb tattoo on her neck pulsed with her frantic heartbeat.
The climax hit her like a physical blow, a sharp, convulsive tightening that ripped a ragged scream from her lungs. Her body arched violently, held down only by Akari’s iron grip. Akari rode it out, her tongue working Hana through the shuddering waves, gentling only as the tremors subsided into weak twitches.
Akari pulled back slowly, licking her lips deliberately, her eyes never leaving Hana’s flushed, stunned face. She rose smoothly, her muscles flexing. Without a word, she reached past Hana’s trembling form, grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and efficiently wiped Hana clean between her legs. The practical gesture, after the raw intimacy, was almost as shocking as the act itself.
Then, her hands slid under Hana’s thighs and behind her back. "Up you go," she murmured, effortlessly lifting Hana off the toilet seat like she weighed nothing. Hana clung to her shoulders, her legs still weak. Akari set her down gently on the edge of the sink counter, her bare ass meeting the cool porcelain.
Akari stepped between Hana’s knees, her hands resting possessively on Hana’s hips. She leaned in, capturing Hana’s mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. Hana could taste herself, sharp and musky, mingling with the faint metallic tang of Akari’s lip piercings. Akari’s tongue explored her mouth with the same focused intensity she’d used moments before. When she finally pulled back, Hana was breathless again.
"Better?" Akari asked, her thumb brushing Hana’s swollen lower lip. A smirk played on her own lips. "Than Mrs. Tanaka’s banging?"
Hana managed a shaky nod, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up. "Definitely… louder."
Akari chuckled, a low, warm sound. She grabbed her discarded jacket. "Gotta run. Boss is already pissed I’m late." She shrugged it on, the leather creaking. "Got a shipment coming in. Rare vinyl." Her eyes scanned Hana, still perched half-naked on the sink, hair damp, skin flushed. "You gonna be okay?"
Hana nodded again, wrapping her arms around herself. "Yeah. Just… processing."
Akari stepped close again, one final time. Her kiss was softer now, lingering. "Good." She pulled back, her gaze intense. "Think about tonight." It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command wrapped in velvet. "Think about what I’m gonna do next."
She turned, opened the bathroom door, and was gone. The silence rushed back in, thick and heavy. Hana sat on the cold sink, the echo of Akari’s touch vibrating deep within her. Bastet stretched languidly on her shrine, utterly unimpressed. Downstairs, the angry roar of Akari’s motorcycle shattered the quiet, a fierce punctuation mark to the morning’s events. Hana touched her lips, still tingling. The scent of sex and soap and Akari lingered. She looked at her reflection – the smudged dark eyeliner, the flushed cheeks, the dazed look in her eyes. What I’m gonna do next. The promise thrummed in her veins, a low, insistent beat beneath the quiet hum of the apartment. She slid off the counter, her legs finally steady. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.