Konoko froze when she heard the faint creak of the hallway floorboards, the unmistakable sign that Gramps was awake. Her body was still trembling from what she had just done, thighs damp and sticky, nipples tight and sore from how hard she had sucked them. Every inch of her was hypersensitive, humming with aftershocks that refused to fade.
She panicked, shoving the hentai under her pillow, pulling the blanket up to cover her flushed body. Her chest still rose and fell too fast, and her skin felt feverish, every nerve raw and overstimulated.
A soft knock came. "Konoko? Morning already, huh? I was thinking… about your leg yesterday. I can rub some of that oil in for you now, before breakfast. It'll help loosen the muscle."
Her heart skipped. Not now, please… She pressed her thighs together, feeling the sticky wetness smear against her skin, biting her lip to keep the whimper from escaping.
"U-uh… th-that's okay, Gramps," she called back, her voice uneven, betraying the tremors still running through her. "I-I think it's… fine now. Really…"
But his voice was cheerful, persistent. "Nonsense! You're too polite, Konoko. Don't refuse when you're hurting. Just let me take care of it. I'll bring the oil in a second."
She curled tighter under the blanket, heart racing. The idea of his hands touching her calf, so close while her body was still burning from release, made her feel sick with tension. Her skin tingled as though even the brush of fabric was too much.
Why now? she thought desperately. Why when I'm still… like this?
Her breath came shallow, every sound from the hallway magnified—the shuffle of his feet, the clink of a bottle being set down somewhere. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will her body to calm, but her nipples ached, her core throbbed, pulsing with a humiliating wetness she couldn't hide.
The faint creak of the door made Konoko's stomach twist. Gramps stepped in casually, holding the small glass bottle, and almost instantly the sharp, herbal scent of the oil filled her room. It mingled with the humid warmth left behind by her own sweat and arousal, and she felt her face burn hotter.
The smell wrapped around her, thick and invasive. Her body—already raw and trembling from release—reacted violently. Her center clenched on its own, still wet, the muscles of her thighs twitching under the blanket. Even her nipples tightened painfully against the thin fabric of her shirt, every nerve screaming as if the air itself was stroking her.
"Here we are," Gramps said lightly, shaking the bottle so the oil sloshed audibly. "This works wonders, you'll see. Just relax and let me rub it in."
Relax. The word was impossible. Her skin felt like fire, the lingering pulse between her legs mocking her, betraying her. She tried to steady her breathing, but the faint slick sound of the oil when he uncorked the bottle made her jolt—too close to the wet sounds that had filled her room only minutes earlier.
Konoko hugged the blanket tighter to her chest, heart hammering. Please don't come closer… please don't notice anything… Her body betrayed her every second: the tremors in her calves, the twitch of her toes, the way her breath hitched each time the oil's pungent aroma thickened the air.
"Don't be shy, Konoko," Gramps continued gently, stepping closer to the bed. "It'll only take a moment."
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She bit down on her lip to stop a sound—half whimper, half moan—that threatened to slip out. Every drop of sweat on her skin seemed to glow under the morning light seeping through the curtains, and she was certain he could see her trembling.
Her mind screamed No, no, not now, I can't—my body— but her voice, always polite, wavered out: "Th-thank you, Gramps… b-but really, I… I'm f-feeling better already…"
The moment Gramps set the small bottle on her desk, he paused, his brow furrowing. He sniffed lightly, the lines on his face tightening in concern.
"Hm… there's a strange smell in here," he muttered, almost to himself before glancing at her. "I'm sorry, Konoko. It must be me—I probably tracked something in, or maybe it's this old oil. I'll scrub the floor later, make sure it's fresh."
Her stomach lurched. The heat rose violently to her cheeks, and her chest tightened as if the air had been punched from her lungs. The smell wasn't his fault. It was hers—her sweat, the slick, undeniable traces of what she had just done to herself. The room was saturated with it, and the idea of him noticing made her throat dry and her skin prickle.
She forced herself to smile, voice light but trembling at the edges. "N-no, Gramps, please don't worry about it. It's really nothing. You don't need to trouble yourself."
But inside, her thoughts spiraled. God, he can smell it—he knows, he knows what I was doing. He thinks it's him, but it's me. My [ … ], my body… I'm the one who made this smell.
Her legs curled tighter under the blanket, as if she could somehow trap the scent away, hide the evidence of her trembling body. She could still feel the sticky dampness between her thighs, her skin overly warm and sensitive, betraying her every second.
Gramps gave a small nod, looking guilty as he recapped the bottle. "Alright, if you say so. But I'll be more careful next time."
She managed another polite smile, though her fingers clenched in the sheets. "Th-thank you. Really, it's fine."
Meanwhile, her heart pounded with frantic rhythm, every beat whispering the same anxious truth: If he only knew…
Konoko tugged the blanket tighter around herself, her cheeks still burning. When Gramps lifted the little bottle again, his voice was gentle but firm.
"You're still sore from that stumble yesterday, right? This oil will help with the muscle. Just let me rub it in for you, it won't take long."
Her stomach twisted. The very thought of his hands on her skin right now made every nerve scream—her body was still thrumming, oversensitive from what she had done just moments before. The lingering tingles at her core and the way her chest still ached with heat made her want to shrink into the mattress and disappear.
She shook her head quickly, forcing a small, polite smile. "N-no, really, Gramps, you don't need to. I'll be fine. Please don't trouble yourself."
But he only smiled with that calm, stubborn warmth he always carried. "I don't mind, Konoko. You shouldn't walk around with pain like that. Let me take care of it—just this once, hm?"
Her hands clenched the sheets. Inside, she was screaming no, no, I can't, my body will give me away, I'll make a sound, he'll feel how hot my skin is—he'll know.
But his insistence and the steady way he waited made it impossible to keep resisting without sounding ungrateful. Slowly, she lowered her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. "...Alright. If you really want to."
He seemed pleased, pulling the chair closer as he opened the bottle. The faint herbal scent filled the room, but Konoko barely noticed—it mixed too cruelly with the sticky, sweet-sour haze of her own lingering scent.
Why did I agree? she thought frantically, her body already tensing under the blanket. I'm still so sensitive… every touch is going to feel like fire. I can't let him notice, I can't…
Her breath quickened, shallow, as she turned her leg ever so slightly toward him, her heart pounding in her throat.
Gramps poured a little of the oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together, the faint slick sound making Konoko's stomach knot tighter. She pulled her blanket up to her waist and shifted her leg toward him, exposing the curve of her calf and the tender muscle of her lower leg.
The first touch made her flinch. His hands were warm, coated in the slippery oil, pressing gently into the sore spot of her calf.
"Oh—!" The sound escaped her before she could stop it, sharp and breathless. She immediately bit her lip, cheeks blazing. Don't react. He'll think it's pain. Just hold it in…
Gramps paused, concern flickering in his voice. "Too much? Should I be gentler?"
Konoko shook her head quickly, forcing a smile, even as her body trembled under his touch. "N-no, it's fine… it's just… sensitive."
He nodded and resumed, slower now, his thumbs gliding in circles over her skin, pressing into the knot of muscle. The slickness of the oil made every stroke feel amplified—heat and pressure spreading from her calf up through her thigh, curling hot in places she prayed he wouldn't notice.
Her breathing grew uneven, little tremors running through her body each time his thumbs dug deeper. Her fingers twisted in the blanket, knuckles white, as she struggled to keep her voice steady.
It's too much… my skin feels like it's burning… he's just helping, but my body—why is it reacting like this?
A small, trembling whimper slipped from her throat before she could choke it back, quickly disguised as a shaky exhale.
Gramps looked up briefly, smiling softly. "You're doing well, Konoko. Just relax—let the oil work."
She nodded, but her body betrayed her: each stroke of his hands sent another shiver racing through her, her leg jerking ever so slightly under his palms. Inside, she was screaming at herself to stay still, to hide the raw, overstimulated fire sparking with every touch.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her breath catching. Please… just end soon… before I lose control…