My Netori Life With System: Stealing Milfs And Virgins

Chapter 328: 328. Ellie’s Always The One To Talk About Our Encounter Again. So Shameless.

This time, Haruka’s composure failed her. The dam of tension that had been holding back her amusement finally burst, but it didn’t erupt into a loud, boisterous laugh.

Instead, it was a series of short, hushed, and entirely genuine snorts of laughter that she desperately tried to swallow. Beside her, Ellie reacted instinctively, pressing a hand over her own mouth to stifle a matching giggle, her shoulders shaking with the effort of remaining silent.

Mike remained anchored in the archway, a silent, massive sentinel watching the two women struggle against the absurdity of the moment. He listened to the rhythmic, muffled sounds of their shared amusement, the tiny, breathless gasps of air as they fought to be inaudible in a house that felt as though it were sleeping in a deep, velvet trance.

It was one in the morning, the hour when the world feels thin, and their laughter felt like a beautiful, whispered rebellion against the heavy quiet.

Stanley remained lost in his stupor, a motionless figure beneath the heavy blanket. Ren, however, was not entirely silent; he muttered another string of Japanese, a low, melodic mumble that sounded like a sleepy protest or a lingering thought.

Haruka, still catching her breath, caught the meaning, but she merely shook her head, a silent refusal to translate the drunken wisdom of a man currently being used as a human table.

The frantic energy of the night finally began to settle into a weary, domestic calm. Ellie retreated to the kitchen, the ritual of making tea taking hold of her.

It was a grounding act, the kind of thing people do when they find themselves in an unexpected emotional landscape and need a way to acknowledge the terrain without making it a monumental event. The sound of the kettle whistling, low and soft, became the heartbeat of the room.

The three of them eventually sat around the kitchen table, the steam from their cups rising in delicate, swirling ghosts in the dim light. The house was quiet, save for the occasional, heavy rustle or soft thud from the living room, a periodic confirmation that the occupants there were still, at the very least, vertical-ish.

The kitchen lamp, casting a warm, amber glow, did exactly what lamps do at this hour: it shrunk the world, pulling the edges of the room inward until everything felt smaller, warmer, and intensely, sharply specific.

"This is a very strange end to a Saturday," Haruka said, her voice barely louder than the steam rising from her mug.

She leaned back, her eyes tracing the patterns of light on the table.

"Is it?" Ellie asked.

She wasn’t looking at Haruka; she was staring into the dark, swirling depths of her tea, as if the answers were written in the tannins.

Haruka paused, weighing the weight of the night, the passion, the suddenness, and the strange, quiet aftermath.

"No," she said, her voice gaining a sudden, quiet clarity. "Actually, no. It’s not strange. It’s just... very specific."

"Like a memory you know is going to stick. Like something you’d remember for a long time."

"Good, specific?" Ellie asked. It wasn’t a question so much as a hope, a way to categorize the chaos they had all just navigated.

"Yes," Haruka replied, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "Good, specific."

Mike sat in silence, sipping his tea. He felt the weight of the conversation shifting, moving toward a destination that was inevitable.

He was a man of action and instinct, and he could feel the geometry of the moment changing; he knew that anything he added would only disrupt the delicate balance of what was being unsaid. He let the silence do the work.

Ellie finally lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting Mike’s across the expanse of the table. The warmth of the kitchen seemed to intensify in the space between them.

"Thank you for coming," she said. Her voice was steady, but there was a vulnerability in it that cut through the domestic calm. "It’s a strange thing to say."

"You’ve been here before, in so many ways."

Mike met her gaze, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with a quiet, intense sincerity.

"I know," he said, his voice a low, grounding rumble. "But it’s still true."

She held his look for a long, heavy moment, a silent exchange of recognition and respect, before she lowered her eyes back to her cup.

"I’m going to stay," she said, her voice directed at the tea, as if the liquid could hold the gravity of her decision. "Tonight... I’m going to stay here in this kitchen until Stanley wakes up."

"However long that takes."

"That might be a while," Haruka offered gently, a warning of the long, slow hours of the early morning.

"That’s fine," Ellie said.

The way she spoke the word "fine" carried a hidden depth; it wasn’t just about the night, it was a quiet declaration of presence, a hint that she was prepared to stay much longer than just until dawn.

Mike set his cup down on the table with a soft, decisive thud. He stood, his massive frame momentarily eclipsing the light of the lamp, a shadow of strength in the intimate space.

"I’ll let you know when I get home," he said.

Mike watched Ellie for a moment longer, his eyes tracing the elegant line of her neck before he turned to head toward the door. But as he reached the threshold, the heavy silence of the kitchen was punctured by a sudden, sharp intake of breath from Haruka.

"Wait," Haruka whispered, her eyes darting toward the living room, toward the two unconscious men who were only a few yards away. "Are you... are you really just going to leave? After that?"

Ellie looked up, a playful, almost wicked glint dancing in her eyes that Mike hadn’t seen all night. "Leave? Mike? No."

"He’s just going to sleep in his own bed so he can dream about what happened in the hallway."

Haruka’s face went pale. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a frantic, terrified hiss.

"Ellie! Shh! They’re right there!"

"They’re practically in the next room! You can’t just... you can’t talk about it like it was just a casual conversation about drainage!"

"Relax, Haruka," Ellie said, a low, throaty chuckle vibrating in her chest.

She leaned back, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just been part of a clandestine sexual whirlwind. "They’re dead to the world."

"Stanley is so far gone he probably thinks he’s a tectonic plate, and Ren... well, Ren was too busy arguing with a ghost about mathematics to notice a thing."

Haruka looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. "But the noise! The... the sheer audacity of it!"

"The way you were both... and Mike, you were so..." She trailed off, her face flushing a deep, brilliant crimson.

"So what?" Ellie teased, her voice a velvet purr. "So loud? So intense? It was beautiful, Haruka."

"There was something incredibly primal about it."

"The house was so quiet, so still, and then there was Mike, this massive, unstoppable force just... claiming us both."

Mike, standing by the door, felt a heat crawl up his spine. He didn’t turn around, but his shoulders tightened.

He could hear the sheer, unadulterated hunger in Ellie’s voice as she recounted the madness.

"It was insane," Ellie continued, her eyes glazing over as she relived the friction and the heat. "One minute we were trying to be quiet, and the next, Mike had me pressed against the wall, and then you were there, Haruka, caught in the middle of it."

"He was fucking us both while the two ’great thinkers’ were just a few feet away, drowning in wine. It was like we were stealing life right out from under their noses."

"I thought my heart was going to jump out of my throat every time we were going all insane," Haruka whispered, though the panic in her voice was being rapidly replaced by a dazed, breathless sort of arousal. "Every time Mike... every time he moved like that... I thought they’d wake up and see the sheer, beautiful mess we were making."

"They didn’t hear a thing," Ellie insisted, her gaze drifting to Mike’s broad back. "They were too busy being drunk."

"They were in their own little world of gradients and theories, while we were in a world of skin, sweat, and Mike’s hands. It was the best kind of theft."

Haruka let out a long, shaky exhale, finally leaning back into her chair. "You two are absolutely shameless. Truly."

"Shameless?" Ellie smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips. "Maybe. But it was worth every second of the risk."

Mike finally turned, a dark, knowing smirk playing on his lips. He looked at the two women, one flushed and breathless, the other glowing with a post-coital warmth.

"I’ll call you in the morning, maybe..." Mike said, his voice a low, commanding rumble that seemed to vibrate in the very bones of the women listening. "Try to get some sleep. If you can."