Chapter 212 - I Want to Play with Daddy’s Lower Half
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When I opened my eyes, the room was already bright.
It was morning.
I sat up with a groan and turned off the alarm clock.
I glanced over to the side, but Ayako-chan wasn’t there.
She must have woken up earlier and started preparing everyone’s breakfast.
“Hmm.”
Come to think of it, what happened to Erin?
I felt something warm against my chest—was this it?
When I peeked inside the futon, I saw Erin curled up in her cat form.
It seemed she had undone her transformation during the night.
Since we could avoid any unnecessary commotion, I was relieved for now.
“Fwaaah.”
I stretched big and crawled out of bed.
Then something fell from my hand.
It was Ayako-chan’s panties.
...Right.
Because of my Double Action Skill going out of control, I had stripped that girl’s underwear off.
And on top of that, I had fallen asleep still clutching them.
In other words, the cloth that had been wrapped around Ayako-chan’s secret place had been tangled around my fingers all night.
Not to mention, my hand had been pressing right against the inside of the crotch.
“...”
Somehow. I brought my fingertips to my nose and sniffed them.
“...It’s the scent of Ayako-chan, concentrated.”
A sweet, rich, mellow girl-smell tickled my nostrils.
At the intense aroma of a teenage girl, my sense of guilt swelled up.
This was bad.
If I wanted to recreate this smell, I’d have to resort to something outrageous like “having panty-less Ayako-chan trap my hand between her thighs and letting it steep overnight.”
Right hand marinated in thighs, JK flavor.
That was how concentrated the scent was.
In short, it was a dangerous situation where I could be suspected of “You were messing around with your fingers between Ayako-chan’s legs, weren’t you? You did it, didn’t you?”
I had to wash my hands as soon as possible.
The women in my house have sharp noses.
Especially Angelica—she has a hobby of sniffing my body odor.
I carefully opened the bedroom door and slipped out on tiptoe.
Silencing my footsteps, I approached the washroom step by step.
Good. No one was there.
Just as I turned the faucet with a relaxed face, a shadow grabbed me from behind.
It was Angelica.
“Good morning, Father!”
“When did you get here?”
“I came out of the toilet!”
No wonder she appeared so suddenly. Don’t make me nervous like that.
I gave a light laugh and said, “Morning, Ange. Let’s not do skin-ship with unwashed hands after you’ve done your business.”
“But you’re hogging the faucet, Father~. I can’t wash my hands even if I want to.”
“Sorry, sorry. ...No, hold off on clinging to me until I wash my hands.”
“I know that, but when I see you, my body moves before my head.”
“So hugging me has become a conditioned reflex for you, huh?”
I laughed, calling her an incredible spoiled brat, and took out the hand soap.
As I was scrubbing with more foam than usual,
“Something about that hand-washing seems oddly thorough?”
“You think?”
“...Did something happen with Ayako last night? Something that would require such careful hand-washing?”
Angelica’s arms tightened around me.
“When you sleep next to other girls, I can’t relax. I keep having bad thoughts, wondering if some mistake happened.”
“Th-there’s nothing at all. This is, uh, I just got a little on my hand when I peed earlier.”
“Huh?”
Ah, that might have been a blunder.
I thought she’d be disgusted, like “Daddy’s dirty!” but instead,
“If you had an accident in the toilet, why didn’t you call me!? If you’d told me, I would have helped you with your business down there!”
“I don’t have a hobby of being nursed at this age!? Why do you look kind of disappointed!?”
“What daughter would hate helping her father urinate!?”
“Are you okay with that? Is that desire coming from a daddy-con fetish or a scat fetish?”
Thinking about it from Angelica’s perspective in reverse, was it like a 32-year-old stepmother sighing in the morning, saying, “Lately, I think I’ve been leaking urine”?
...This felt like a situation where I couldn’t tell if it was erotic or dirty.
It probably depended on the stepmother’s looks and expression.
“It’s not scat. It’s healthy parent-child love. ...It’s nice, isn’t it? Helping an aging daddy urinate. Along with piggyback rides, it’s a situation that hits the sweet spot for daddy-con.”
“Is that how it is in your world?”
“Yes, yes,” Angelica affirmed.
“I mean, watching TV, I think this country has a lot of fathers needing care, and I’m jealous. I think the happiest people in an aging society are the women who work in nursing care while nursing their daddy-con complex. Being able to legally play with Daddy’s lower half every day—don’t you think that’s a daughter’s greatest joy? Hah. Th-that’s why they deliberately continue policies that make the elderly live longer, isn’t it...!? To spread men in need of care throughout society...”
“Sorry to interrupt your ‘I’ve figured it out’ voice, but I don’t think they’re deliberately increasing the elderly. Everyone’s struggling with it to the point it’s a national crisis.”
While we were making a racket like that, my hand-washing finished.
Since this could lead to more trouble, I quickly retreated to the toilet.
I did my business quickly and came back to wash my hands again.
“Huh? Father, did you go to the toilet again? ...Then why were you washing your hands earlier? You should have finished peeing before I came in, right?”
Crap.
Maybe because I was answering with a groggy, just-woken-up head, my already poor lies seemed even worse.
I thought for a full minute, then muttered,
“W-well, actually...”
“Actually?”
“—Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit frequent.”
When I said in a subdued voice that I was getting old too, Angelica backed off surprisingly easily.
There’s no way a Holy Maiden would know about a man’s body, let alone the decline of his lower half. She probably had no choice but to accept it as “Is that how it is?”
Whew, that was close.
With a victorious smile on my face, I headed leisurely to the living room.