The Shimbashi district, often regarded as an area dominated by salarymen, offers a unique appeal to those who yearn for efficient commuting times. It's no wonder that most heads of households in the residential complexes there are white-collar workers, including in one modest house with the nameplate "Uesugi." That house was the residence of Fuutarou and Yotsuba, a couple who had been married for almost a year.
With his strong principles and pride, Fuutarou had refused the offer from his father-in-law, Nakano Maruo, who wanted to gift a house as a wedding present for one of his five quintuplet daughters, Yotsuba. This decision reflected his independent and responsible character.
Instead, the house now occupied by the young couple was bought by Fuutarou with a 32-year mortgage—a common practice in Japan, where white-collar workers typically need around 30 to 35 years to pay off their home loans.
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On a cold night, inside a dimly lit room, two bodies shared warmth beneath a thick blanket. The blanket swayed gently, accompanied by soft moans that sounded faint, mixed with the creaking of the bed moving in rhythm.
After several minutes passed with monotonous movements, Fuutarou gasped for breath.
"Nnggghh... Hah.. Yotsuba... I-I'm... I've... Mmmhhh...!"
"...Mhm..." Yotsuba only responded with a soft, almost inaudible sound.
The movement on the bed stopped, and the subtle sounds were now replaced by broken breaths. Fuutarou threw back the blanket and lay beside his wife with a satisfied expression.
"Good, wasn't it, Yotsuba?" Fuutarou asked, catching his breath.
Yotsuba smiled faintly, trying to hide her true feelings. "Um, it was very good, Fuutarou. I'm sure I'll get pregnant soon."
"Hoam~ So sleepy. I have to go to work early tomorrow. I'm going to sleep first, Yotsuba."
Fuutarou stretched briefly before closing his eyes and immediately falling into a deep sleep.
"..."
Yotsuba fell silent, staring at her husband's back, which was already turned towards her. Her mind was in turmoil. This was their first intimate encounter in three long months, and it had all ended in a very short time—about three minutes before Fuutarou reached his climax, and less than a minute after that, he was sound asleep.
'I'm still not satisfied.' Yotsuba thought restlessly.
However, her great affection for Fuutarou made her unable to demand more. She knew her husband worked hard and was probably very tired. She tried to convince herself that Fuutarou's happiness was also her happiness.
Seeing Fuutarou sleeping soundly, Yotsuba slowly got out of bed. She put on a thin coat hanging on a chair, then walked quietly towards the bathroom, trying not to disturb her husband's sleep.
In the dimly lit bathroom, Yotsuba let out a long sigh in front of the mirror.
"Haaah..."
Feeling the sticky and wet sensation between her thighs. With a mixture of curiosity and slight disgust, she checked herself. Yotsuba felt what was left of Fuutarou inside her—the volume was very small, watery, and didn't seem strong enough to reach her womb.
'It would be a miracle if I could get pregnant from this.' She thought bitterly.
After being intimate with Fuutarou, instead of subsiding, Yotsuba's sexual desire burned even more intensely. The feeling of being unfulfilled made her restless. She closed the bathroom door and leaned against the wall.
"Nnh~..."
Her hand began to move slowly, touching herself in an attempt to relieve the uncontrollable fire. But no matter how hard Yotsuba tried, the climax she hoped for never came. The frustration almost drove her crazy.
"What's wrong with me? Fuutarou has worked hard all day. I should be more understanding."
But another voice in her mind argued. {But is it wrong if I also want to feel satisfaction? How long do I have to restrain myself?}
Her thoughts and common sense began to blur, drowning in blinding lust. Like a zombie, Yotsuba walked to the corner of the bathroom, opening a small drawer under the sink. There, neatly wrapped in plastic, was a pair of men's boxers that didn't belong to her husband.
"No, I mustn't..." She murmured, shaking her head.
But as if an invisible force was pushing her, Yotsuba picked up the boxers. They belonged to Rokuhara Ren, Itsuki's boyfriend—one of her five quintuplet sisters—whom she had secretly taken while helping to clean the couple's apartment earlier that afternoon.
Some mystical whisper had possessed her, making the usually innocent and naive Yotsuba do something that had never crossed her mind. It was as if another force was controlling her actions.
With trembling hands, she took the boxers and buried her face in the unwashed fabric.
"Ahhh... This is Rokuhara-san's scent... So smelly and masculine... It's completely different from Fuutarou's..."
Her imagination soared, replacing Fuutarou's figure with the more masculine and passionate image of Ren.
Within minutes, Yotsuba's body trembled violently like a leaf blown by a strong wind. An explosive sensation spread from the tips of her toes to her head, making her bite her lip to suppress the sound that might wake Fuutarou.
"Hah... Hah... Hah..."
After her breathing returned to normal and the haze of lust began to dissipate, consciousness slowly returned to Yotsuba. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized what she had just done.
"What have I done? I'm a terrible wife. Fuutarou doesn't deserve to be treated like this." Yotsuba sobbed silently.
But before that feeling of guilt could take root, a faint whisper seemed to seep into her mind.
{It's not your fault... It's Fuutarou's fault for not being able to satisfy you...}
Yotsuba shook her head vigorously, trying to banish the voice. "No! Fuutarou works hard for us. He's tired—."
{But is that a reason to ignore your needs? Don't you also deserve to be happy?}
This inner conflict made Yotsuba even more frustrated. On one hand, she knew what she had done was morally wrong. But on the other hand, there was a strong urge she couldn't resist.
"Why doesn't Fuutarou ever ask what I want?" She murmured unconsciously, her voice turning cynical. "It's always over quickly and then he just sleeps, as if I'm just a place to vent—"
"...?!"
Shocked by the words that came out of her own mouth, Yotsuba immediately covered her mouth with her hand. But the damage was done; the words had crystallized into thoughts that were difficult to erase.
If Ren had been there at that moment, he would have seen something strange—a ghostly female figure standing behind Yotsuba. That figure, with long disheveled hair and empty eyes, was the main cause of Yotsuba's change in behavior. The ghost had possessed her mind, triggering dark urges that made this loyal wife fall into depravity.
{You're not wrong, Yotsuba. It's all your husband's fault. Fuutarou can't satisfy you. He's incompetent.}
Influenced by the evil whisper, Yotsuba stared at Ren's boxers again. Saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth, and the pupils of her eyes formed strange little hearts.
Then, she raised the boxers to her face once more, inhaling deeply like a woman who had lost her sanity.
"Fuutarou is so useless... He can only last three minutes, so weak... Unlike Rokuhara-san who is definitely strong and mighty, easily getting Itsuki and Maria-san pregnant..." She said unconsciously, her voice full of a dirty contempt she had never uttered before.
With the boxers still in her hand, Yotsuba imagined Ren. In her imagination, her brother-in-law was roughly making love to her, dominating every inch of her body, something she had never experienced from Fuutarou. Her hand moved again, and that night, she sank deeper into an abyss she could no longer avoid.