I Took A Succubus's First Time-Chapter 195 - Pleasuring Each Other
195: Pleasuring Each Other
195: Pleasuring Each Other
Kouhei and Hina stepped inside the room they had just rented in the love motel.
The moment the door shut behind them, the faint moans of strangers filtered through the paper-thin walls like ghostly whispers, distant yet unmistakably real.
The motel’s soundproofing was laughably inadequate.
Pleasure-soaked gasps, rhythmic pounding, and breathy cries echoed from all directions—an unrelenting symphony of lust that seemed to pour through every crevice, invading their ears, wrapping around them like an invisible mist of raw desire.
It was a place built for indulgence, for passion stripped of inhibition, and there was no denying that now.
Their room lay just ahead, and as they entered, they were greeted by a sterile yet oddly welcoming space.
The interior was simple—almost minimalistic—but carried an unmistakable air of intimacy.
The floor and walls were coated with polished white tiles, their glossy finish gleaming under the pale, fluorescent ceiling light.
It reflected a muted shine across the room, bathing everything in a soft, clinical brightness that felt both clean and quietly expectant.
At the center, a single bed stood like an altar—its sheets untouched, crisp, and blindingly white.
The way it sat in the middle of the room, unaccompanied by any other furniture, gave it a sacred significance.
There were no distractions and no place to hide.
It was as if the space demanded attention solely for the act it was designed to host.
Suspended on the wall, hung a television.
Kouhei didn’t need to power it on to know what it would display.
The contents were no mystery.
He could already envision the flickering scenes of lust, played on repeat for every pair who came here seeking release.
Without hesitation, Hina strode forward and sat at the edge of the bed.
The mattress gave beneath her weight, dipping low and springing back slightly, like a soft trampoline reacting to a gentle landing.
Her body bounced faintly with the motion, and the fabric of the bed rustled under her.
The softness of the bed was remarkable—luxuriously indulgent, almost sinfully so.
Watching her seated there, Kouhei felt something stir deep within him—a heavy awareness that rolled over him like a thick wave.
This was real.
This wasn’t just some casual visit or coincidence.
They were, undeniably, in a love hotel.
Every element of the room—the mood, the scent of freshly laundered sheets, the faint hum of the air conditioning, and even the electric massage wand placed discreetly on a nearby shelf—spoke one truth.
This was a place where people came to fuck.
“Kouhei, what are you waiting for?” Hina called softly, her voice carrying a warmth that pierced through his daze.
“Sit right next to me.”
“Huh?
Ah…
Right…” he muttered, his body jolting as if awakened from a trance.
He moved closer and sat beside her.
The instant their shoulders touched, a jolt of heat coursed through him.
Her body radiated warmth, a subtle yet unmistakable comfort that reached beyond physical contact.
In that fleeting moment, it felt as if time paused—granting him this rare opportunity to be close to her.
Hina casually reached into the bag she had brought along and pulled out the hentai manga they had picked up.
She examined the cover, her eyes moving slowly across the words as she read aloud.
“I asked my girlfriend to cosplay my favorite characters and then have sex with me while wearing the cosplay…
It certainly is very long for a title…” she murmured.
Long titles weren’t uncommon—especially in manga.
Kouhei knew that.
In fact, it had almost become a hallmark of the medium.
Without delay, Hina opened the manga and began flipping through its pages.
The opening pages were colored—vibrant, polished, and unabashedly erotic.
They featured an introduction of the characters while they were already mid-act, thrust deep in carnal entanglement.
“Hmm…” Hina hummed softly, her eyes scanning the panels with genuine intrigue.
Her gaze was focused, calm—almost scholarly.
Beside her, Kouhei sat rigid.
Hina was flipping through the hentai manga as if it were casual afternoon reading.
The sheer absurdity of it struck him like a thunderbolt, and he had no idea how to react.
“It certainly is drawn very well…” Hina commented, her tone laced with a fascinated curiosity.
“The faces are very unique, and the expression of the woman is quite good…
Now I know why people like these types of stuff…”
There was no embarrassment in her voice—only fascination.
It was as though she were conducting a study, observing a cultural artifact, dissecting the eroticism with a critical yet open mind.
It didn’t feel like she was reading it to arouse herself… at least not initially.
But as she continued flipping through the pages, and eventually reached the scene where the female character had dressed up in the man’s favorite cosplay, something shifted.
A tension began to build in the air—subtle at first, then unmistakable.
Hina’s scent became richer, warmer, tinged with an unplaceable sweetness that drifted into Kouhei’s nose like an invisible fog.
It bypassed reason and struck directly at the center of his brain, lighting up his nerves with electric heat.
Unseen by Kouhei, Hina herself was undergoing a transformation.
Her body temperature had risen ever so slightly, and a faint glisten of sweat began to form on her exposed skin.
Being a succubus, she was in a constant state of arousal.
Her existence was defined by perpetual desire.
And yet, she had mastered the art of restraint—controlling it, holding it at bay with sheer will.
But now, that barrier was beginning to thin.
Her breathing grew heavier—labored, almost.
Each exhale released a whisper of steam, a fleeting vapor that danced in the sterile white light before vanishing.
“Kouhei…” she murmured, her voice lowered and soaked in heat.
She pointed to a page with her finger, tapping lightly.
“In this page, it looks like they’re masturbating each other… tending to the other’s genitals, right?
Want to do that?”
Kouhei felt his heart pound inside his chest like a hammer.
His throat went dry, and he swallowed hard, the sound loud in his ears.
Logic told him to pause—to think, to breathe—but the moment was too charged, too perfect to let slip.
So he reached out, slowly, and touched her leg.
Her skin was smooth and silken.
His hand glided over it with reverence.
Despite having minimal fat, her thigh gave beneath his grasp, supple and pliant.
In that moment, Kouhei realized just how thick she truly was.
Her thighs were wrapped in sleek thigh-high stockings, hugging her skin tightly.
Just above the edge, her soft flesh spilled gently over the band, creating a sensual curve—a delicate bulge that made his breath hitch and his fingers tighten.
Then, after a few drawn-out moments of rising tension, his hand finally slipped beneath her skirt, fingertips gliding along the silky warmth of her thighs.
As his touch slowly traveled upward, brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, he suddenly froze—there was something off.
No fabric.
No lace.
Nothing.
“Eh?
Hina-san…?
You’re not wearing anything down there?”
His voice trembled slightly, filled with disbelief.
The moment his fingers touched her there, he felt it—warm, slick, and bare.
Her pussy was wet and exposed, with no panties in the way to dull the sensation.
The realization struck him like a jolt.
She hadn’t worn anything at all.
Not this whole time.
His mind spun at the thought that, during their entire date, she’d been walking around in a skirt, with absolutely nothing underneath.
The boldness of it sent a surge of heat through his chest.
“Well, you seemed to be trying your best to put me back in the mood,” she said smoothly, her tone laced with mischief, “so I decided to reward you with something extra today.”
The way she said it—so casual, so confident—only made it all the more arousing.
She was daring, shameless, and utterly seductive.
“Well then…
my hand is supposed to go here, right…?”
Her eyes remained half-lidded and calm, fixed on the manga in her hand.
With her free hand—the one not holding the book—she reached down to his crotch with practiced ease.
Her fingers moved without hesitation, tugging down the zipper of his pants with a soft, deliberate zzzt, then slipping past the waistband of his underwear to wrap around his cock.
His hardened dick sprang out, throbbing in the cool air.
She gripped it firmly, her warm fingers curling around the shaft, her palm slowly circling as she began to stroke him with a steady rhythm—smooth, slow, and teasing.
All the while, her eyes never left the pages of the manga, as if this was just a casual way to pass the time.
Kouhei’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling.
He couldn’t help but react.
Not wanting to be left behind, his hand returned to her soaked pussy, his fingers gently parting her folds and slipping inside.
He stirred her up with careful movements, savoring the way her slick walls pulsed against his fingertips.
“Ah…”
A breathy, restrained moan escaped from Hina’s lips, soft and low, vibrating against the still air between them.
But after a few moments, both of them began to realize that sitting on the edge like that made it awkward to keep pleasuring one another properly.
It was cramped, uncomfortable, and frustrating when they both wanted more.
So, without exchanging a word, they got up and moved to the bed.
There, they settled in, leaning their backs against the headrest, legs tangled slightly.
And there, side by side, they continued—masturbating each other in quiet sync, their breaths growing deeper, fingers moving more eagerly now with nothing holding them back.
