The sound of that moan rumbles through Satoru's mind, soothing and revving it up all at once, convincing the feral animal part of her brain that yes, this is right, this was good.
Suguru's rough hand in her hair draws an incoherent sound of arousal from her, and she yields to it automatically, tipping her head into it and then moaning into Suguru's mouth. She presses harder up against Suguru, hands curling more possessively around Suguru's hips, kissing her back with savage hunger.
Disoriented as she's just as suddenly shoved back, Satoru blinks in confusion. A little of the feral energy recedes, though her conscious mind doesn't yet reassert itself. Suguru disappears through the door, and a moment later some of their band members are entering the hallway, confused to find Satoru just standing there.
Pliant now, Satoru lets herself be herded through to backstage, given water and electrolytes, and then further helped into her dressing room where her accessories are taken from her. Satoru somehow manages to communicate that she needs a minute--or twenty--and shoos them all away so that she can masturbate, fingers sliding up inside of her body as she thinks of the ferocious way that Suguru kissed her, even though it's about three orgasms later and she's limp from the pleasure of it before she starts to wonder what the hell?
She showers and gets dressed in the soft, loose black pants that they've left for her (something far too expensive and fashionable to be called sweatpants, the fabric swishing loosely around her as she walks) and a soft black top (similarly far too expensive and fashionable to be called a 'peasant' top). Satoru's full breasts are too large for her to go braless, but the embroidered detailing on the revealed bra straps makes them look like they're a feature of the outfit. (Satoru's entire wardrobe is designed like this. Even her loungewear is red carpet-ready.) Her shoes are black espadrilles with bows at the toe, completing the impression that she's just been lounging around a villa in Corsica rather than completing an intense stage performance. Then she wanders back out, willing to be herded wherever her aides tell her to go, wherever her manager (Nanami, who had been one of her bandmates in the original group and then ended up lured back after securing a business degree) has decided she should be at the moment.
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Suguru's rough hand in her hair draws an incoherent sound of arousal from her, and she yields to it automatically, tipping her head into it and then moaning into Suguru's mouth. She presses harder up against Suguru, hands curling more possessively around Suguru's hips, kissing her back with savage hunger.
Disoriented as she's just as suddenly shoved back, Satoru blinks in confusion. A little of the feral energy recedes, though her conscious mind doesn't yet reassert itself. Suguru disappears through the door, and a moment later some of their band members are entering the hallway, confused to find Satoru just standing there.
Pliant now, Satoru lets herself be herded through to backstage, given water and electrolytes, and then further helped into her dressing room where her accessories are taken from her. Satoru somehow manages to communicate that she needs a minute--or twenty--and shoos them all away so that she can masturbate, fingers sliding up inside of her body as she thinks of the ferocious way that Suguru kissed her, even though it's about three orgasms later and she's limp from the pleasure of it before she starts to wonder what the hell?
She showers and gets dressed in the soft, loose black pants that they've left for her (something far too expensive and fashionable to be called sweatpants, the fabric swishing loosely around her as she walks) and a soft black top (similarly far too expensive and fashionable to be called a 'peasant' top). Satoru's full breasts are too large for her to go braless, but the embroidered detailing on the revealed bra straps makes them look like they're a feature of the outfit. (Satoru's entire wardrobe is designed like this. Even her loungewear is red carpet-ready.) Her shoes are black espadrilles with bows at the toe, completing the impression that she's just been lounging around a villa in Corsica rather than completing an intense stage performance. Then she wanders back out, willing to be herded wherever her aides tell her to go, wherever her manager (Nanami, who had been one of her bandmates in the original group and then ended up lured back after securing a business degree) has decided she should be at the moment.