I'll grope my understudy (Pink Trigger's Power >69)

You see, Gretel, the darkness is the realm of witches and magic. Who can say what happens- and how- when they can't even trust their eyes to guide them? As such, you can probably imagine all sorts of things that might be touching your ass right now under that ridiculously short school skirt you wear! I dug my hand into the cotton of her panties, appreciating the softness of her youthful bum... Ah... That might give the mistaken impression that I'm saying she's underdeveloped, but nothing of the sort.

This bookish nerd has a fine ass indeed, as well as soft, creamy thighs!

I began to caress them with my other hand while I felt her retreat, only to knock against the grandfather clock on one side. She didn't know the room orientation as well as I did, after all.

"You creep! This smut story's going to be over as soon as somebody turns the lights on!" Gretel complained, not bothering to whisper.

Come now... People are going to think you're crazy if you talk about "stories" so loudly. I pressed one hand over her mouth, then moved my other hand up the guidepost of her slender belly, up to those obnoxiously large breasts of hers. What are they feeding schoolgirls these days, anyway, that makes girls like Gretel and Jessica grow such huge tits?! Whatever it is, I only hope they keep it up. I dug my fingers in and played with her breast through her coat for a bit... then I moved my hand inside her jacket, enjoying the feel of her breasts against that light, button-up shirt she wore.

I could feel her still trying to talk back behind my hand. I helped her out by removing it... only to replace that gag with my lips. For a moment, it worked, but she thrashed free of my lip-lock pretty quickly and began berating me again. As if to silence her, I pinched her nipple through the fabric of her bra, where I'd now placed my hand underneath her undershirt. I heard her gasp girlishly; she was used to being bullied, but it didn't mean that she'd experienced that kind of situation before. Ah... A girl like you goes as a virgin all throughout school, despite having such an erotic body? There really is no justice...

Just then, a light came on to the right. I saw Kumasawa's face eerily peering out of the darkness, illuminated by the lantern. She gave a good-natured chuckle and batted one hand at the two of us. "My my... A folklorist and his understudy, doing something like that in a place like this? I could tell you two were lovers, you know? When a man and a woman take a little vacation to a place like this... Ho ho ho ho ho... But you shouldn't do that where Maria might see it..." she tittered.

Gretel's complaints ought to have been plenty for her to understand that the situation wasn't so romantic as she was envisioning, but I did my best to stifle those complaints by placing my hand over my lovely understudy's mouth, squishing her cheeks with my thumb and fingers. Yes, well, Kumasawa... When I have a fit of passion like this, it's hard to control myself. My hands move on my own. There's really nothing that could stop me when my cute assistant is right here in my arms like this...

As if beckoned by the challenge I'd just issued, another lantern light appeared... Only, this one wasn't a lantern. It was a mass of golden butterflies.

"Bea...Beatrice!" I heard Kumasawa gasping, her voice shaking. This was a far cry from the lady who'd just confidently dismissed my forcing myself upon Gretel as a non-issue.

Well, apparently, the witch took some exception to it at least. I felt something heavy hit me in the upper back, forcing me against Gretel for a moment, before hands roughly dragged me backwards, away from her and falling onto the floor. I raised my hands to protect my face, so the killer struck elsewhere, bashing my ribs with that heavy implement. Then, I felt another powerful strike hit my groin... Aieee! Gretel, that was you, wasn't it?!

"Shut up, you pervert! Just die, like you always do! Story of love, my ass!"

Ah... I suppose I fucked up a bit, if I was trying to make this a story of love.

Sorry, Gretel. I'll do better next time. But little diversions like this are necessary for a writer like me. Don't take it too personally. And most of all, don't... don't kick there!