"I'm glad that you and your sister are so close to each other, Ryouma," Our father said, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he glanced at us. To him, the scene looked pure—wholesome even.
Manaka sat comfortably on my lap, leaning against me like a sweet, affectionate girl.
Her arms rested lazily around my neck, her golden hair tickling my cheek as she nuzzled into me.
To our father, we were just a sibling indulging in innocent closeness.
But the truth...?
Yeah, my throbbing cock was buried deep inside her, her silky, dripping cunt clenching around me with every slow, deliberate movement.
Beneath her seemingly innocent embrace, I was steadily bouncing her up and down, letting my length glide in and out of her tight, soaked pussy, the slick sounds masked only by the soft rustling of her skirt.
She was bare underneath—no panties, nothing to get in the way.
Just the thin fabric of her green dress covering the absolute filth happening beneath.
Every single inch of me was inside her, stretching her open, filling her so completely that her breath hitched with every subtle shift.
And fuck, she was loving it.
Manaka muffled her moans to stifle the pleasure that threatened to spill from her lips.
She trembled slightly, as her insides squeezed tighter.
The thrill of it made everything so much fucking hotter.
We were doing this right in front of our father, in broad daylight, with zero hesitation.
If our father just paid a little more attention, if he noticed how her shoulders tensed, how her breath shuddered, how her legs occasionally twitched—he would realize his daughter was getting fucked senseless on my cock while he casually talked to me.
But he didn't.
Because to him, Manaka was just snuggling.
"Yeah... We've always been close, haven't we?" I chuckled, forcing my voice to remain casual, even as the heat coiling in my gut threatened to break my composure.
I buried my face slightly into Manaka's hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo, trying to disguise the quiet groan that nearly slipped out when she clenched around me again.
Her pussy gripped me like a vice, tightening down at the worst possible moment, as if trying to milk every drop out of me before I was ready.
Manaka was playing dirty.
The way she clenched around me, she wanted me to break first, to lose control and give her what she craved.
"Not that close," Hiroki muttered, shaking his head before returning to his newspaper, completely oblivious to the filthy, depraved act happening just inches away from him.
And at that moment—I came inside her.
A shudder rippled through Manaka's entire body as I filled her to the brim, thick spurts of my cum spilling deep inside her unprotected womb.
She tensed, thighs squeezing tight around me as a silent moan escaped her lips, her walls spasming as she took every last drop.
For a split second, she nearly lost herself—her breath hitched, but then, just as effortlessly, she composed herself.
Without a single word, she slid off my lap, my cock slipping out of her drenched, cum-filled pussy as she adjusted her skirt.
A thin trickle of my seed glistened between her thighs before she subtly pressed them together, trapping it inside.
Then, with perfect, practiced grace, she took her seat beside me as if nothing had happened.
I zipped up my trousers, a satisfied smirk lingering on my face as the last traces of our morning indulgence settled into a pleasant afterglow.
My body felt lighter, relieved, the warmth of Manaka's pussy still lingering on my cock.
The two of us sat at the breakfast table, enjoying our meal like nothing had happened—just a casual, peaceful morning after some good, sneaky fucking.
The sandwiches before us tasted surprisingly good, though I couldn't tell if that was just the dopamine still flooding my brain.
Across from us, our father sat calmly, sipping his coffee as he read through the morning paper. Every now and then, he'd glance up, as if debating whether to say something.
But he was patient. He waited, letting us finish our breakfast first.
Only after we had eaten our fill did he finally fold the newspaper and place it down, his eyes locking onto mine with a serious, weighty gaze.
"Ryouma, can I trust you?" he asked, his voice carrying the kind of gravity that only a father could have when talking to his son.
"You can trust me, father," I answered without hesitation, my tone firm and unwavering.
He let out a slow breath, his shoulders easing slightly as if he had been holding something in.
The relief was clear on his face, but his next words carried even greater importance.
"The Holy Grail War is near. I want you to protect—" He paused for a fraction of a second, then cleared his throat, correcting himself. "Ahem... to take care of Manaka and Ayaka. Don't let any harm come to them."
Ah.
Of course. He knew.
He had started with "protect," but even he realized that Manaka didn't need protection.
Not in the slightest. She was OP as fuck—the kind of OP who could wipe out every single Master and Servant in the war if she felt like it.
There was no "protecting" someone like her. If anything, the rest of the world needed protection from her.
Still, I understood what he meant.
"I will, Father," I said solemnly, nodding in reassurance. "I'll take care of them."
A smile of satisfaction crept onto his face.
"Good," he said, leaning back and picking up his newspaper again. "As a father, I trust you to be a good brother to both of them."
And just like that, he returned to his morning routine, none the wiser about how deeply I was already taking care of Manaka.
We didn't say anything after that, just the soft sound of Manaka's lilting chuckle filling the air.
"From this day forth, take care of me, brother," she purred, her voice laced with mischief as her fingers trailed lower—dangerously low.
Her hand brushed against my cock, already twitching in anticipation, the heat radiating through my trousers obvious even through the fabric.
And then, with deliberate slowness, she reached for the zipper, her eyes gleaming with wicked amusement as she pulled it down.
A sharp breath escaped me as she freed my throbbing erection, her delicate fingers wrapping around the thick, pulsing shaft.
A single stroke. Slow, teasing.
Then another—this time firmer, her palm gliding smoothly along my length, her fingers tightening just enough to send a shiver down my spine.
She was playing with me, deliberately drawing it out, savoring every reaction as she pumped my cock with steady, measured strokes.
Leaning back against my seat, I let my head fall back, surrendering to her touch.
My eyes fluttered closed, pleasure rippling through me as she continued, her rhythm unwavering, her grip perfect—a blend of softness and control that made my stomach tighten with building heat.
Manaka knew exactly what she was doing.
I came again—this time, in my cute sister's soft, delicate hand.
My thick, hot cum splattered across her slender fingers, dripping between them in thick, messy strands.
She smirked wickedly, her blue eyes glinting with mischief as she raised her hand to her mouth, parting her soft lips to taste me.
Slowly. Deliberately.
She dragged her tongue over her fingers, licking up every drop with a teasing, sinful grace, her expression one of pure, smug satisfaction.
She wasn't just cleaning her hand—she was savoring it, letting me watch as her tongue curled around each digit, slurping up the lingering mess one slow, erotic stroke at a time.
My cock twitched, already hardening again.
How could it not?