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Standing naked before the mirror, Luffy ran a hand through his thick black hair, wet from sweat. His reflection stared back at him, sun-kissed skin stretched over lean, sinewy muscle, cut through with faint scars that danced across his ribs, shoulders, and abdomen. His chest rose and fell with a slow, natural rhythm.
His torso was a canvas of battles won, painted in bruises and old wounds.
His body was calm now, relaxed.Â
He looked down, his eyes casually traveling over himself—broad shoulders, carved chest, the deep groove running from under his ribs down to the sharp V of his hips.
Below, his length hung naturally between his legs, thick, weighty, and unashamed in its presence. It shifted with his movement, responding to gravity as he adjusted his stance. He gave a faint chuckle.
"Still alive and swinging," He muttered, amused.
He stepped under the shower and twisted the knob. A second later, hot water burst forth, splashing onto his back and shoulders. It was nearly scalding—but perfect.
"Aahhh…"
His muscles instinctively loosened, the heat soaking into every joint, every tight inch of flesh. He rolled his neck slowly, feeling the steam rise up, blurring the glass and hugging his body in warmth.
The sound of rushing water echoed in the enclosed space, steady and loud, like a constant breath.
His fingers reached for the bar of dark soap, rubbing it between his hands until thick lather foamed. He brought his palms to his body, gliding slowly from his shoulders down to his pectorals. The suds clung to his chest before sliding downward, carried by water. He worked over his abdomen with slow, methodical strokes, each pass tracing the tight ridges of his abs.
He cleaned himself like a man who knew his body well, thoroughly, but without indulgence. His fingers moved with practical ease, washing down his shaft and over the weighty pair beneath.
The water spilled over him, sliding down his thighs and calves before pooling near the drain. His legs were thick with strength, calves sculpted by constant movement. Each muscle tensed as he shifted, rinsing away the soap, dragging his hands over himself one last time to clear the suds.
The steam clung to every surface now, turning the bathroom into a private jungle of mist and breath.
Luffy sighed deeply, one hand braced against the wall while the other ran through his soaked hair. He tilted his head back, letting the water pour directly onto his face, down his neck, and over his chest.
His cock, thick and dangling between his legs, twitched slightly from the change in temperature and the sensual memory of earlier touches. The cold water didn't bother him. It ran over the healing cuts on his arms and chest from a recent battle, highlighting the ruggedness of his body.
Yet despite the usual peace he found in this daily ritual, something felt off.
He sighed as he was Alone again.
'Tch… It's not the same without them.'
No matter how chaotic his day had been, there was one rule his women never let him break: the daily shower. It wasn't just about cleanliness—it had become a sacred time, a ritual of devotion.
Every day, Kuina or Hina would fight playfully over who got to drag him into the bathroom first, both eager to run their hands over his body, to bathe him like a treasured relic. They'd whisper dirty promises, press their bare bodies against him, and worship every inch of his frame as if he were a god.
Their touches were reverent. Their eyes, full of submission and hunger.
Now, with them absent, the shower felt colder and emptier. His groan wasn't just from physical discomfort; it was from longing.
He tilted his head back under the water, letting it soak his messy black hair, and rubbed his fingers slowly through his scalp. The sound of the water drowned out the world, but not his thoughts.
And just then, he heard it.
A faint, almost timid click, the soft sound of a door being pushed open slowly.
He turned and saw a beautiful figure standing at the doorway.
Ain's long, blue hair was slightly damp, clinging to her bare shoulders. After their earlier interaction, she was supposed to have left a while ago.
She wore nothing but a single white towel, barely large enough to cover her curves. And even that modesty was betraying her, the damp fabric sticking to her skin in a way that outlined her large, perky breasts, narrow waist, and full, round hips.
Ain stood there trembling slightly, biting her lower lip, her gaze locked onto him—onto his wet, naked form standing confidently beneath the water. Her face was flushed red, but her eyes… they were bold with desire, burning through the steam.
Luffy raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Well, well… didn't you just leave, sweetheart?" He said, his voice smooth, low, teasing. His tone held amusement, but was laced with heat. "Couldn't stay away, huh?"
Ain gulped, hands clutching the towel tightly to her chest.
"I… I thought Vice Admiral might… need some assistance…" She whispered, her voice shaky, unsure.
He chuckled darkly, licking the water off his lips. "Is that so? And you planned to assist me from the door?"
Her breath hitched. The towel trembled slightly in her grip.
She stepped inside, slowly, barefoot, her legs glistening slightly from the hallway's lingering moisture. As she entered, the warm steam curled around her body, caressing her like invisible hands.
Luffy's gaze tracked every movement, her thighs pressing together shyly, her chest rising and falling faster, the way her nipples poked against the towel's damp fabric.
He leaned back against the slick wall, water still pouring down him like a waterfall. He was hard now, his length rising, throbbing slightly, already aching for her.
"Drop the towel," He commanded, his voice sharp but smooth like silk. "Let me see what you've been hiding underneath."
Ain froze for half a second—then shivered. Her legs squeezed together, and she bit her lip harder, her fingers trembling as they reached up.
She didn't speak and obeyed.
Her hands slowly pulled at the knot holding the towel together. The fabric loosened… slipped… and fell.
It hit the floor silently.
Luffy's eyes devoured her.
She was a vision, more than that, she was a dream made flesh.
Her breasts were full, round, and swayed slightly with each breath. Her pink nipples were hard and sensitive from the steam. Her stomach was flat, soft. Her hips curved beautifully into long, shapely legs. Between them, the neat triangle of hair drew his attention to the treasure below, already damp, not from the steam.
"Fuck…" Luffy whispered, his voice husky with hunger.
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