Cheating Wife Hijiri Maihara: Creampied by Her Father-in-Law. The air in the room was thick, heavy like the humid summer days she’d grown up with. Except this wasn’t heat, it was something else, something thicker, stickier. Hijiri Maihara shifted on the plush sofa, the velvet doing little to absorb the nervous sweat gathering at the nape of her neck. Outside, the birds were still loud, oblivious to the tension coiled in the living room.
It had started innocently enough, a comforting hand on her shoulder when her husband was away on business. Then the hand lingered a beat too long, the eyes held hers a fraction too intensely. Now, whenever her husband, his son, was out of the house, his father would appear. It was unspoken, this dance they’d started. Today, as usual, she’d seen him arrive through the window, his car pulling into the drive.
He didn’t knock. He never did. The door just clicked open and he was there, filling the doorway, his presence always a little too large, a little too imposing. His eyes, so similar to her husband’s yet so different, moved over her, slow and appraising.
“Hijiri,” he’d say, just her name, but the way he breathed it out, it was a question, a command, everything in between.
She’d rise, a silent invitation. The first time, she’d been trembling, a mix of terror and a thrill she hadn’t felt in years. Now, there was still fear, but it was layered with a desperate kind of wanting. She was Hijiri Maihara, the dutiful wife, but in these stolen moments, she was someone else, someone reckless, someone consumed.
He’d take her then, right there in the living room, sometimes pushing her against the wall, sometimes pulling her down onto the thick carpet. There was no tenderness, just a raw, urgent need that mirrored her own. He was her father-in-law, a forbidden figure, and that transgression was part of the fire.
The act was always quick, brutal. He’d thrust into her, ignoring her soft whimpers, her pleas that were half protests and half encouragement. And then, the release. Always deep, always claiming her in a way her husband hadn’t in months. Always creampied. The word, so vulgar, so fitting. She was filled, marked, dirtied. Cheating Wife Hijiri Maihara: Creampied by Her Father-in-Law. The words, a shameful truth, a secret pleasure etched into her skin.
Afterward, he’d leave without a word, just as silently as he’d arrived. And she’d be left alone, the lingering scent of him in the air, the sticky warmth between her legs, and the gnawing guilt mixed with a shameful, undeniable satisfaction. She was tainted, irrevocably changed. And somewhere, deep down, a part of her knew this was only the beginning.
