Afterschool

As the answer to my question, in the end, Marika loosened her hold on my head and switched to just throwing her arms around me. Her body slid down and she returned to her previous position; curled up in my embrace. Refusing to use words and only conveying her acceptance through this rather flirty gesture of snuggling to me, I couldn’t help but treat her like one of my girls, pampering her enough until she gets tired of sniffing my scent.

Well, I also got my kick here. I got to immerse myself in her almost magical golden ringlets. Despite the curls right at the ends, my fingers smoothly slid in and out of her luscious golden hair. And somehow, as if there existed a sensitive nerve on them, every time my fingers would reach the end of her ringlets, Marika would be tickled. And it’s enough for the girl’s hushed, cute giggling to grace my ears.

A few minutes later, Marika voluntarily stood up from my lap and with her face nursing a red blush, the girl made her way to the door.