( For such a heartwarming moment, Kiritsugu cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt. He could never have predicted his wife developing this sort of affection for Maiya, or vice versa-- given the circumstances. And simply resting beside them, made him feel as though he were intruding upon a private moment.
He's content to remain at Iri's side, for now, giving them the space to feel one another out, all the while aching to do something-- anything, not to seem so idle.
He opts to nestle his head between Iri's shoulder and neck, taking to nuzzle against the sensitive skin with his lips, his stubble, all the while fitting his hand between her thighs, delicate fingers strumming against her slit through the silk of her panties.
The hand at Maiya's stomach is enough to make her quiver at the unexpected touch, prompting her to lean more firmly into Iri's lips, herself, lifting a hand from Iri's waist to cup one of her breasts into Maiya's calloused palm. )
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He's content to remain at Iri's side, for now, giving them the space to feel one another out, all the while aching to do something-- anything, not to seem so idle.
He opts to nestle his head between Iri's shoulder and neck, taking to nuzzle against the sensitive skin with his lips, his stubble, all the while fitting his hand between her thighs, delicate fingers strumming against her slit through the silk of her panties.
The hand at Maiya's stomach is enough to make her quiver at the unexpected touch, prompting her to lean more firmly into Iri's lips, herself, lifting a hand from Iri's waist to cup one of her breasts into Maiya's calloused palm. )