Chapter 1282: Fumi the Keyhole Cock-Watcher

Fumi drew in a slow breath, forcing her posture straight and her voice back into its usual cool, arrogant tone.

"Hmmm... I will wait for you outside..."

With that, she turned and walked out of the bathroom, the tight pencil skirt once again outlining the heavy sway of her big ass as she left. The door clicked shut behind her.

I dried myself thoroughly with the towel she had dropped earlier, then wrapped it low around my waist. Water still beaded on my shoulders and chest.

I gathered the soaked clothes I had arrived in—coat, shirt, pants, and the damp underwear—into a bundle and stepped out into the hallway.

Fumi was waiting there, holding a neat stack of clean clothes Saki must have provided. The moment she saw me—bare-chested, towel riding low on my hips, wet hair dripping—she fumbled slightly with the bundle in her hands.

A fresh flush rose on her cheeks, though she tried to hide it behind her usual composed expression.

"Here..." she said, extending the clean clothes toward me.

Then she noticed the wet bundle I was already carrying. Her eyes flicked down to it.

"Give me those. I’ll have them washed and sent to you..."

She reached out and snatched the wet clothes from my hands a little too quickly. On top of the pile was my damp underwear. It slipped free and fluttered to the floor between us.

Fumi’s thoughts spiked instantly through telepathy.

[He isn’t wearing any underwear... gulp... and in the clothes Saki just gave there was no underwear either... that means he’s not going to put any on... will it show if he just wears the pants...?]

[He’s quite huge... the outline under that towel is already impossible to ignore... if he walks around without anything underneath... fuck...]

She stared at the fallen underwear for a second too long before bending to pick it up. When she straightened, her voice was carefully controlled, but the residual heat between her legs made the words come out a fraction softer than usual.

"Here. In this room... you can get dressed. It also has a hair dryer and all the necessary items. Here..."

She pressed the clean clothes into my free hand and gestured toward a nearby guest room. I took them and stepped inside, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

I activated AI Lens immediately. My vision pierced straight through the wooden door and the wall. Fumi had not walked away.

She had pressed herself tightly against the door the moment it shut, one hand braced on the frame, the other already sliding down to rest heavily between her own thighs. Her eye was fixed to the keyhole, pupils dilated, breathing shallow.

Inside the room, I let the towel drop. Completely naked again, water still running down my chest and over my abs, I began dressing slowly, deliberately, giving her every second of the show through the tiny opening.

First I stepped into the clean pants—no underwear, just as she had predicted. The fabric dragged up over my half-hard cock. The thick shape immediately tented the front, the heavy outline impossible to miss.

Through the keyhole, Fumi’s thoughts turned into pure, dripping filth.

[He’s naked again... fuck... look at that cock... even half-hard it’s thicker and longer than anything my ex ever had... the way it hangs... the weight of it...]

[I can see the head pushing against the fabric already... my pussy is clenching so hard it hurts... I’m soaking through my panties... the crotch is completely wet... if I keep watching I’m going to leave a stain on this skirt...]

[He’s putting the pants on with nothing underneath... that fat cock is just going to be free in there... every time he walks the outline will show... every time he sits it’ll print against the fabric... I want to see it get fully hard...]

[I want to watch it stretch those pants until the shape is unmistakable... fuck... I’m so horny I can feel my clit throbbing against the wet lace...]

I pulled the clean shirt on next, leaving it unbuttoned for several long seconds so she could still stare at my bare chest and the water running down the grooves of my abs.

Fumi’s free hand had started rubbing slowly between her legs over the tight skirt; her hips gave tiny, involuntary rolls against her own palm.

[Look at those abs... the water sliding over them... I want to drop to my knees and lick every drop off his stomach... then keep going lower until I have that thick cock in my mouth...]

[I’ve never been this wet from just watching a man get dressed... my cunt is dripping down my thighs... if he opened this door right now and pushed me against the wall I wouldn’t stop him... I’d spread my legs and let him fuck me senseless right here in my brother’s house... fill me until I couldn’t walk...]

[My nipples are so hard they ache... my pussy is pulsing... I’m acting like a desperate divorced slut just from looking through a keyhole... and I can’t stop... I don’t want to stop...]

I finally buttoned the shirt and adjusted the pants, the thick ridge of my cock still plainly visible against the fabric, shifting with every small movement.

Through AI Lens I watched Fumi bite her lower lip hard enough to leave a mark, thighs squeezing tightly around her own hand, eye still glued to the keyhole as she continued to spy on the naked foreigner who had already ruined her composure—her proud, arrogant mind completely drowned in vulgar, aching need.

I decided to give her more.

Still fully aware she was watching and listening, I stood in clear view of the keyhole and deliberately reached down.

My hand slipped into the front of the clean pants and adjusted my hard cock, openly shifting the thick, heavy length so the outline became even more obvious against the fabric. I let out a low, frustrated murmur—just loud enough to carry through the thin door.

"OMG... how am I supposed to go out like this...? That Ms. Fumi... I’m so embarrassed... what if she thinks I’m a pervert...? No... let’s wait... calm down before going out..."

I kept my hand there a moment longer, giving the hard cock another slow, obvious adjustment that made the tent in the pants jump and settle into an even clearer shape. A soft, self-conscious sigh left me for her benefit.

Through the keyhole, Fumi’s eye widened. Her free hand pressed harder between her thighs. Her thoughts flared with a sudden mix of triumphant heat and predatory intent.

[What is he saying...? Is he embarrassed...? He’s hard... and he’s worried I’ll think he’s a pervert...?]

[Hee... let’s see how I deal with you... I will make sure you won’t forget me... I’ll wipe that embarrassment right off your face and replace it with something you’ll remember every time you look at me...]

Her thighs rubbed together slowly, the soaked crotch of her panties sliding against her swollen clit as she kept her eye glued to the keyhole, watching the foreigner she now fully intended to claim.