Chapter 1283: Fumi’s Seduction: Buttons Undone

Just then I heard footsteps approaching in the hallway. It was Saki.

"Sister Fumi... what are you doing?"

I activated AI Lens again, letting my vision pierce straight through the wall. Saki was standing a few steps back, arms crossed, watching Fumi with sharp, knowing eyes.

She had a clear view of her sister-in-law leaning against the door, one eye pressed to the keyhole, body still flushed and tense from everything she had just been staring at.

I chuckled under my breath at the perfect little tableau.

Fumi panicked. She jerked upright so fast she almost stumbled, spinning away from the keyhole with a flustered, high-pitched stammer.

"N-nothing...!"

In the next second, she forced her usual cold, arrogant mask back into place. Her voice sharpened as she turned on Saki, clearly trying to bury the embarrassment under authority.

"What are you doing sneaking around? Go and look after Yamamoto. See if he needs anything. Make yourself useful for once instead of standing there staring."

Saki’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue. A faint, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she turned and walked away toward the bedroom—or at least pretended to.

Through AI Lens, I watched her stop just around the corner, pressing her back to the wall so she could still see into the living room without being noticed.

I opened the door and stepped out, still in the clean clothes Saki had provided—no underwear, the thick outline of my half-hard cock still faintly visible against the front of the pants. My voice was calm, polite, and perfectly composed.

"Ms. Fumi... Ms. Saki..."

Fumi’s head snapped toward me. The residual heat from the Hand of Arousal and everything she had just watched through the keyhole made her cheeks flush even deeper.

For a moment the proud older sister looked completely caught—caught peeking, caught aroused, and now caught standing in front of the very man whose naked body she had been spying on.

She recovered faster than expected. The embarrassment in her eyes slowly hardened into something sharper, more calculated.

She straightened her back, pushed her full chest forward just slightly, and gestured toward the living room sofa with a practiced, elegant motion of her hand.

"Jack... why don’t you come and sit? There’s no need to stand in the hallway."

Her voice had regained most of its usual cool authority, but an undercurrent of deliberate invitation ran beneath it. I followed her into the living room. She sat first, then patted the cushion right beside her—closer than strictly necessary.

As I took the seat, Fumi shifted, crossing one leg over the other. The tight pencil skirt rode up a fraction higher on her thick thighs. She fanned herself lightly with one hand, letting out a soft, almost theatrical sigh.

"It’s getting rather hot in here, don’t you think?"

Before I could answer, she reached up and slowly undid the top button of her white blouse. Then the second. The fabric parted, revealing a deep, full cleavage and the delicate black lace edge of her bra.

The soft, heavy curves of her tits pressed against the lace, the dark material contrasting sharply with her pale skin. She didn’t stop at two buttons; she left them open just enough that every small breath made the cleavage deepen and the lace shift.

Through telepathy, her thoughts turned predatory and self-assured, the earlier fluster completely overwritten by arrogant confidence.

[He’s looking... of course he is. He’s blushing a little too... just a young man who only recently entered society. So easy to read. So easy to fluster. He saw me naked in his mind already... now he’s getting the real view.]

[I’ll make him forget whatever little embarrassment he felt earlier. By the time I’m done, he’ll be the one who can’t look away.]

From her hidden spot around the corner, Saki watched every calculated move. Her thoughts dripped with pure, venomous amusement.

[Look at her... opening her blouse like that, showing off that black lace, thinking she’s the one in control. She doesn’t know who the hunter is... hmph.]

[She’s playing with fire, and she has no idea the man sitting next to her already fucked her brother’s wife senseless and filled both my holes until I couldn’t stand.]

[I’ll be waiting for the moment this arrogant bitch is the one begging Jack to fuck her hard... to stretch her open and cum inside her while she moans like the desperate divorced slut she really is.]

Fumi leaned back against the sofa, one arm resting along the backrest, the open blouse framing the full, mature swell of her breasts.

The black lace cupped them perfectly, the upper curves soft and inviting under the living-room light. Her nipples were still faintly stiff from the lingering effects of the Hand of Arousal, pushing gently against the lace.

"Make yourself comfortable, Jack," she said, voice smooth and low. "Saki will be busy with my brother for a while. We have time to talk... properly."

Her eyes stayed on me, sharp and assessing, while the deep V of her open blouse and the black lace beneath it remained fully on display—an open, calculated invitation wrapped in the same arrogant confidence she always wore.

Saki remained hidden around the corner, watching with a dark little smile on her lips as she savored the coming fall of the woman who had always looked down on her.

I shifted on the sofa, clearing my throat with a small, deliberate cough. My hand dropped to my lap as if by instinct, fingers adjusting the front of the pants in a clumsy, embarrassed motion.

The thick outline of my half-hard cock was already pressing visibly against the fabric; the adjustment only made the shape clearer for a second before I tried to cover it with my palm.

I kept my eyes slightly averted, playing the flustered younger man who had just been given an unexpected view of mature cleavage and black lace.

Fumi’s gaze dropped immediately to my lap. A slow, satisfied curve touched the corner of her mouth. Through telepathy, her thoughts turned openly mocking and triumphant.

[He’s getting hard... hmm. Look at that. One glimpse of my tits in this lace and the young foreigner is already struggling to hide it. So easy. So predictable. I’ll have him wrapped around my finger before the tea even gets cold.]

She made no move to close her blouse.

If anything, she shifted her shoulders just enough to make the deep cleavage sway slightly, the black lace framing the soft, heavy curves even more deliberately while she watched me try—and fail—to fully conceal the growing bulge in my pants.