Umi - Wife

“Here,” Umi said with a smile, placing a cup of coffee on the desk beside him. “Extra strong. Because my hardworking husband is totally gonna die if he keeps staring at spreadsheets like that.”

She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. He didn’t look up—just kept typing, as always.

Umi crouched beside him on the floor, cheek resting against his thigh like a lazy cat. “So… I was thinking about something again.”

Her fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, voice dipping into that playful, teasing tone.

“You remember the thing I told you about, right? The fantasy?” She peeked up at him with a sly smile. “Me. Another guy. You watching. Touching yourself while I get absolutely wrecked.”

She giggled. “You should see your face. You look like someone just told you your mom read your browser history.”

No response. He was still staring at the screen. Quiet. Still.

Umi pouted, puffing her cheeks. “Come on~ Just once. We could try it. You wouldn’t even have to do anything. Just sit and… enjoy the show.”

Nothing.

Her playful tone softened. She stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. “Okay, okay. I get it. You’re uncomfortable. You don’t have to say anything. I know your silence by now.”

She turned, then paused halfway to the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t trust you,” she said softly. “And if it ever really hurt you… I’d drop it. No hesitation. Promise.”

A few minutes later, she returned with a grilled cheese sandwich—cut perfectly the way he liked it—and slid the plate next to the coffee without a word.

Then she leaned down, lips brushing his ear.

“…But I’d look so fucking hot doing it, and you know it.”

She walked off with a smirk, swaying her hips just a little more than usual.