Archive of Our Own

Izuku stared at the ceiling. Blinked. Stared some more. The fan made its forty-third rotation since he'd started counting.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself, his muscular body sprawled across the couch, the fabric rough against his bare back.

Time had become a formless blob since losing One For All. Four years? Five? The days blurred together outside of the bright spots when his friends visited. He checked his phone. Three unread messages from Uraraka about next weekend's get-together. Two from Kyoka asking about dinner recipes. One from Bakugo that just said "STILL ALIVE, NERD?"

A few text later, he tossed the phone aside and stretched, his muscles rippling beneath his skin, still firm from this morning's workout. His cock shifted uncomfortably in his sweatpants as he adjusted his position. The house felt too quiet. Too empty.

His gaze drifted to the wall of photos—everyone in their hero costumes, grinning, victorious. And him, always there, always smiling, always on the sidelines now. They always kept him in their lives, always bringing him along everywhere. His eyes lingered on the women, their hero costumes revealing their voluptuous curves, the swell of their breasts barely contained by the fabric. Fuck… Now he felt guilty. He’d become hyper aware of women recently, like his puberty had somehow come in again.

Izuku's volunteering shift at the hospital had ended at noon. His workout finished at two. It was now... he glanced at his watch... 2:47 PM.

"Seven hours and thirteen minutes until sleep is totally reasonable," he mumbled, scratching absently at one of the scars on his muscular chest, fingers trailing down to the defined ridges of his abs.

He'd organized his hero analysis notebooks chronologically last week. Alphabetically the week before. By quirk type the week before that.

The refrigerator hummed from the kitchen. A neighbor's dog howled. His brain itched with restlessness, his body tense with unused energy.

"I wonder if it's time to learn how to pop my pecs," Izuku muttered to himself, standing before the full-length mirror in his living room. He focused, tensed, and instantly the muscles responded, bouncing rhythmically. "Well... that took less time than I hoped."

He sighed, running a hand through his messy green hair. His perception was both blessing and curse—he picked up skills with frustrating ease these days. His body, honed by years of hero training, responded to his commands with precision even without One For All.

"Maybe I should try something more challenging," he mused, grabbing his laptop. Twenty minutes later, he'd mastered three different styles of traditional dance after watching tutorial videos.

"Shit," he groaned, flopping back onto the couch, his sweatpants bulging as he shifted. "Maybe I should text Momo about that book she recommended. At least literature takes time to absorb."

His fingers hovered over his phone, eyes drifting back to her photo on the wall. The last time she'd visited, she'd worn a sundress that hugged every curve of her body, her breasts straining against the thin fabric when she'd leaned forward to examine his latest boredom project. The memory alone made his cock twitch with interest.

Izuku adjusted himself, trying to focus on anything else. His cock strained against his sweatpants, the friction of the fabric only making matters worse. Sue him, he forgot to do his laundry. He grabbed a pen from the coffee table and started spinning it between his fingers, the motion a welcome distraction from his wandering thoughts.

Within minutes, he was performing pen tricks that would make professional magicians jealous—flipping it across knuckles, spinning it around his thumb, even tossing it in the air and catching it behind his back without looking. His mind had already broken down the physics, the muscle movements, the timing.

"Fuck this," Izuku muttered, tears of frustration welling in his eyes. He slammed his fist against the couch cushion, the impact sending a jolt through his muscular arm.

He'd cried over plenty in his life—random shit, losing his quirk, failing to save someone, even All Might's retirement—but he'd never cried from sheer boredom before. He wasn't about to add another pathetic entry to his 'things Deku cries about' mental list. He wiped angrily at his eyes, his chest heaving with emotion.

The sudden ring of his phone cut through his spiral. Momo's name flashed on the screen, and his stomach twisted with guilt as he remembered exactly what he'd been thinking about her curves just minutes ago.

His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before he answered, clearing his throat. "Yo... Momo... What's up?" He said awkwardly, trying to banish the mental image of her breasts straining against that sundress.

"Hey Izuku..." Her voice sounded strained, lacking its usual confident precision. "Can I stay at your place for a while?" There was unmistakable pain threading through her words.

Izuku instantly sat up straight, his erection forgotten, every cell in his body shifting into high alert. The discomfort in her voice triggered his innate need—a need to protect, to help. Any awkwardness or self-pity evaporated like morning dew.

"Of course," he said without hesitation, already standing and looking for his keys. "Do you need me to pick you up somewhere?" His voice was steady now, focused.

"Yeah, you know the hospital near U.A.?"

His heart dropped. Hospital. The word echoed in his mind as he grabbed a shirt, pulling it over his scarred torso with one hand while cradling the phone with the other.

"I'm leaving right now," he said, slipping into his shoes. His mind was already racing through possibilities, calculating the fastest route to the hospital, wondering if he should bring anything specific. The muscles in his jaw tightened with concern.

As he grabbed his car keys, he glanced once more at the wall of photos—at all his friends who had always been there for him, who had never abandoned him even when he lost his power. Now one of them needed him, and nothing else mattered. Not his boredom, not his inappropriate thoughts, not even the lingering ache of his lost power.

Momo needed him, and Izuku Midoriya would be damned if he let one of his precious friends down.

Izuku burst through the hospital doors, his heart hammering against his ribs. The crowd in the reception area parted like water, murmurs of recognition following him as he rushed to the front desk.

"Yaoyorozu," he panted to the receptionist, a plump woman whose eyes widened in recognition.

"Mr. Midoriya!" she exclaimed, her gaze dropping momentarily to the outline of his chest beneath his hastily-donned t-shirt. "Ms. Yaoyorozu is in Room 307. Dr. Shimizu is with her now."

"Thank you," Izuku said, scrawling his signature on the visitor log with trembling fingers. He could feel sweat beading at his lower back as he turned toward the elevators.

The journey to the third floor felt interminable. Izuku's mind raced with possibilities, each worse than the last. When the doors finally opened, he sprinted down the hallway, his powerful thighs propelling him forward with such force that several nurses stopped to stare at his muscular form hurrying past.

He skidded to a halt outside Room 307, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. The scene that greeted him made his stomach clench.

Momo sat in a wheelchair, her normally perfect posture compromised by obvious discomfort. Even in a hospital gown, her voluptuous figure commanded attention—the thin fabric draped over the swell of her breasts, which rose and fell with each frustrated breath she took. Her long black hair hung loose around her shoulders instead of in its usual ponytail, framing her face in a way that made her look both vulnerable and stunningly beautiful.

"I'm not paralyzed, I can handle walking," Momo was saying, her voice carrying that distinctive tone of indignation that Izuku recognized from their school days. Her hands gripped the armrests of the wheelchair, knuckles white with tension.

Dr. Shimizu—a stern-looking woman with graying hair pulled into a tight bun—stood before her, arms crossed over her chest. "I've already accepted you being handed over to Mr. Midoriya's care despite my concerns. I'm not letting you weasel your way out of the wheelchair."

Izuku cleared his throat, drawing both women's attention. "Hey, Momo, doctor," he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the worry churning in his gut. His eyes quickly scanned Momo's body for visible injuries, his eyes registering every detail—the slight wince when she shifted in the chair, the barely perceptible swelling around her right ankle, the bruising peeking out from beneath her gown near her collarbone.

"It's just a couple fractures! Your quirk already healed them!" Momo protested, gesturing at the doctor with an elegant hand. The movement caused her gown to slip slightly, revealing more of the smooth skin of her chest.

Izuku winced, memories flooding back of all the times he'd made similar claims after injuries. The familiar stubborn determination in Momo's eyes mirrored what his friends must have seen in his own face countless times before.

Dr. Shimizu caught his expression and nodded knowingly. "She's not allowed to walk until next week Wednesday," she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. She stepped closer to Izuku, lowering her voice. "Restrain her, if you have to."

The word "restrain" sent an unexpected jolt of heat through Izuku's body, his cock twitching traitorously in his sweatpants. He swallowed hard, trying to banish the sudden image of Momo restrained on his bed, her magnificent breasts heaving with each breath, her thighs spread wide...

"I understand," he managed, his voice rougher than intended. He moved toward Momo, kneeling beside her wheelchair to bring himself to eye level with her. This close, he could smell remnants of her perfume—something expensive and floral—mingling with the antiseptic hospital scent. "What happened?" he asked softly, his hand hovering near hers on the armrest, not quite touching.

Momo's eyes met his, pride warring with pain in their depths. The hospital gown had slipped further, revealing the upper curves of her breasts, pale and perfect against the institutional blue fabric. Izuku fought to keep his gaze on her face, his body responding traitorously to her proximity.

"It was nothing," she said, lifting her chin defiantly, though the slight hiss in her voice betrayed her. "A villain with a density-altering quirk caught me off guard during patrol. By the time my team arrived, I'd already handled him, but..." She gestured vaguely at her body, wincing as the movement clearly caused her pain.

Dr. Shimizu snorted. "By 'handled him,' she means she continued fighting with multiple fractures in her leg and three broken ribs, creating a carbon-fiber support structure from her own body to keep herself upright."

Izuku couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. That sounded exactly like the Momo he knew—brilliant, resourceful, and stubborn to a fault. His admiration for her swelled, along with another part of his anatomy that he desperately tried to ignore.

"The paperwork's all done," Dr. Shimizu continued, handing Izuku a folder. "Medication schedule, care instructions, and my direct number if anything changes. She needs rest, proper nutrition, and absolutely no heroics for at least ten days." She fixed Momo with a stern glare. "And no walking until I clear you next week. Your body needs time to recover, even with your accelerated healing."

Momo opened her mouth to protest, but Izuku placed his hand gently on her arm. The contact sent electricity racing up his spine, her skin warm and soft beneath his calloused palm. "I'll make sure she follows doctor's orders," he promised, meeting Dr. Shimizu's gaze steadily.

The doctor nodded, seeming satisfied. "Good. I've seen your type before—both of you. Heroes who think they're invincible." Her expression softened slightly. "Take care of each other."

As Dr. Shimizu left the room, Izuku became acutely aware that his hand still rested on Momo's arm. He could feel the slight trembling of her muscles beneath his touch, whether from pain or something else, he couldn't tell. His thumb moved unconsciously, tracing a small circle on her skin.

"You didn't have to come," Momo said quietly, though she made no move to pull away from his touch. "I could have called a service, or one of the agency assistants."

Izuku's brow furrowed. "Of course I came," he said, the very idea of not being there for her unthinkable. "That's what friends do."

Momo's eyes dropped to where his hand rested on her arm, then back to his face. Something flickered in her expression—vulnerability, gratitude, and something else that made his heart rate quicken.

"Thank you," she whispered, and the simple sincerity in those two words made his chest tighten.

He stood, reluctantly breaking contact with her skin, and moved behind the wheelchair. "Let's get you home—well, to my place," he corrected himself, gripping the handles of the chair. "Is there anything you need from your apartment? Clothes or...?" His voice trailed off as he realized the implications of Momo staying with him—her in his space, possibly wearing his clothes, her scent on his furniture...

"I had my assistant pack a bag," Momo replied, gesturing to a sleek overnight case in the corner that Izuku hadn't noticed before. "It should have everything I need for a few days."

Izuku nodded, retrieving the bag with one hand while still gripping the wheelchair with the other. The muscles in his arm flexed with the movement, and he didn't miss the way Momo's gaze lingered on them, her lips parting slightly.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice huskier than intended.

Momo nodded, adjusting her position in the wheelchair and inadvertently causing the hospital gown to ride up slightly on her thighs. Izuku caught a glimpse of an infinite expanse of smooth, pale skin before quickly averting his eyes, his cock now fighting valorously against the confines of his sweatpants.

As he began wheeling her toward the door, Momo tilted her head back to look up at him, her long hair cascading over the back of the chair and brushing against his knuckles. "Izuku," she said softly, "I'm sorry to impose on you like this."

He looked down at her upturned face, at the vulnerability in those intelligent eyes, at the fullness of her lips as they formed his name. His heart hammered in his chest.

"You're never an imposition," he said truthfully, his voice low and intense. "Never."

Something shifted in Momo's expression—a realization, perhaps, or a decision. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Izuku couldn't help tracking the movement, heat flooding his body.

"Well," she said, her voice taking on a teasing quality despite the pain she must be feeling, "I hope you're prepared for what you've signed up for. I'm told I make a terrible patient."

Izuku's lips curved into a genuine smile, the first real one since he'd received her call. "I think I can handle it," he replied, pushing the wheelchair forward. "After all, I've had plenty of practice being one myself."

As they moved toward the elevator, Izuku's mind raced with preparations—he'd need to rearrange his apartment, stock the fridge with foods high in protein to help her healing, set up the spare bedroom... He paused, realizing he didn't have a spare bedroom, having transformed it into a personal hobby room. Which meant...

His cock throbbed insistently as the implications hit him. One home. One bed. And Momo Yaoyorozu—brilliant, beautiful, voluptuous Momo—would be staying with him for at least a week.

The elevator doors closed behind them, and Izuku took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart and ignore the persistent ache between his legs. This was going to be a very long week.

——————— Line Break, Fast Forward

Momo's heart thundered against her ribs as Izuku lifted her wheelchair effortlessly up the front steps of his home. Her eyes fixed on the muscles of his forearms flexing with each movement, veins standing out prominently beneath his skin. She bit her lower lip hard enough to nearly draw blood, desperate to maintain her composure while her insides melted into liquid heat.

"Almost there," Izuku grunted, his deep voice sending vibrations straight to her core.

She couldn't tear her gaze from the stubble darkening his jaw, the constellation of scars mapping his handsome face. She had never gotten used to it. Izuku Midoriya—sweet, stuttering Deku from their school days—transformed into this rugged specimen of masculinity? The wheelchair bumped slightly as he navigated the final step, and the jolt sent a wave of pleasure-pain through her injured body that nearly made her moan aloud.

"Sorry about that," he murmured, his breath warm against the top of her head.

"It's fine," she managed, her voice embarrassingly breathy.

Her thighs pressed together beneath the thin hospital gown, slick with arousal that had been building since the moment he'd appeared in her hospital room. Each inhale filled her lungs with his raw, masculine scent—a heady mixture of sweat, sandalwood soap, and something uniquely Izuku that made her dizzy with want.

He pushed her wheelchair into his living room, and Momo forced herself to look anywhere but at him. The room was surprisingly neat, with bookshelves lined with hero analysis notebooks and framed photos of their U.A. days. She recognized herself in several of them, standing tall and proud in her revealing hero costume.

"Would you like some water?" Izuku asked, moving to stand in front of her. "Or tea? I have that fancy jasmine blend you brought over last time."

Momo's eyes betrayed her, dropping to the prominent bulge in his sweatpants before she snapped them back up to his face. His cheeks colored slightly, and she wondered if he'd noticed her looking.

"Water would be lovely," she said, her training barely keeping her voice steady.

As Izuku disappeared into the kitchen, Momo released a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her panties were soaked, clinging uncomfortably to her swollen folds. She shifted in the wheelchair, and the movement sent a jolt of pleasure through her that made her thighs tremble.

What was happening to her? She'd known Izuku for years, had spent countless hours in his company without this maddening, primal reaction. Sure, she’d had a crush for a long time, but it was always very innocent, and more an admiration than anything sexual. Yet now, every glance at his scarred hands made her imagine them exploring her body. Every flex of his muscular chest had her breasts aching for his touch, her nipples hardening painfully against the scratchy hospital gown.

"Get it together, Yaoyorozu," she whispered fiercely to herself, pressing her thighs together more firmly as another wave of arousal dampened her already soaked underwear.

The sound of running water from the kitchen was followed by Izuku's footsteps returning. Momo hastily arranged her features into what she hoped was a thankful expression.

"Here you go," he said, handing her a glass of water, their fingers brushing momentarily.

That brief contact sent electricity racing up her arm. She nearly dropped the glass, her hand trembling as she brought it to her lips. The cool water did nothing to quench the heat burning through her body, only giving fuel to continue the waterfall below.

"I was thinking we could set you up in my bedroom," Izuku said, running a hand through his messy green hair. "It's more comfortable than the couch, and you'll have more privacy."

Momo choked on her water, coughing violently. His bedroom. His bed. The sheets would smell like him, would wrap around her body like his arms...

"Are you okay?" Izuku asked, immediately kneeling before her wheelchair, one large hand patting her back gently.

The pressure of his palm against her spine, so close to the clasp of her bra, made her pussy clench with need. She nodded frantically, unable to trust her voice.

"I can take the couch," he continued, his green eyes filled with concern. "It's not a problem at all."

"No," she managed finally, her voice husky. "I couldn't possibly take your bed."

Izuku's hand remained on her back, his thumb unconsciously tracing small circles against her hospital gown. Each tiny movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through her oversensitized body.

"I insist," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. The authoritative edge to his voice wasn’t new to her, she’d been under his leadership before. Moisture pooled between her thighs, her inner walls clenching around nothing.

"If you're sure," she whispered, clutching the water glass like a lifeline.

Izuku smiled, and Momo felt her heart stutter in her chest. "Absolutely. Let me get everything ready for you."

As he stood, his face passed inches from hers, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, imagining those lips pressing against her own, trailing down her neck, capturing a nipple...

"Momo? Are you in pain?"

Her eyes snapped open to find Izuku studying her face with concern. She realized she'd been biting her lip again, her breathing shallow and quick.

"No, I'm fine," she lied, when in reality she was burning alive from the inside out, her body a furnace of unfamiliar, overwhelming desire.

He looked unconvinced but nodded. "I'll just be a minute setting things up. Shout if you need anything."

As Izuku disappeared down the hallway, Momo finally allowed herself to exhale. She glanced down at her body, at the way her nipples pressed visibly against the thin hospital gown, at the damp spot forming between her thighs where her arousal had soaked through both her panties and the gown itself.

This was going to be absolute torture. A week of living with Izuku—seeing him every day, smelling him, being cared for by those strong, scarred hands—while trying to hide the fact that her body had apparently decided, with avid consent from her brain, yet not her consciousness, that he was exactly what she needed.

She heard him moving around in the bedroom, the domestic sounds of sheets being changed and pillows being fluffed. Her mind conjured an image of Izuku on top of her, her back against those sheets, unable to move as he forced his...

"Stop it," she hissed to herself, squeezing her thighs together again and biting back a moan at the friction it created against her swollen clit.

"Did you say something?" Izuku called from the bedroom.

"No!" she replied too quickly, her voice unnaturally high.

What had gotten into her? She was Momo Yaoyorozu, the composed, intelligent hero Creati, ranked in the top ten. Not some hormone-addled teenager unable to control her body's reactions. Yet here she sat, practically dripping with arousal, her pussy throbbing with need, her breasts heavy and aching.

The sound of Izuku's approaching footsteps made her heart rate spike again. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, but instead caught another whiff of his masculine scent. Her eyes rolled back slightly, her inner walls clenching so hard it was almost painful.

"All set," he announced, standing before her wheelchair again. "Ready to get settled in?"

Momo looked up at him—at his kind eyes, his handsome face, the powerful body that had featured in more than one of her private fantasies over the years—and realized with sudden clarity that she was in serious trouble.

"Ready," she lied, as another rush of wetness soaked her already drenched panties.

Momo had broken the rules the moment Izuku stepped out to take a phone call. Despite Dr. Shimizu's strict instructions—and Izuku's earnest promise to enforce them—she'd seized the opportunity to change out of that wretched hospital gown. Standing had sent lightning bolts of pain through her fractured leg, but the reward had been worth it: soft silk pajama shorts that barely contained the swell of her ass and a thin camisole that did little to conceal her hardened nipples.

When Izuku returned, she'd batted her eyelashes innocently and told him she'd managed to change while seated. The lie had slipped from her lips with surprising ease, and his trusting nature had accepted it without question.

"I'm quite resourceful, you know," she'd said, watching his eyes drift momentarily to where her breasts strained against the silk before he'd quickly averted his gaze.

Now, as his strong arms slid beneath her body to lift her from the wheelchair, Momo couldn't suppress the whimper that escaped her lips. The sound was born equally of pain and arousal—his muscular forearms flexing against her thighs, his chest pressing momentarily against her sensitive breasts as he adjusted his grip.

"Sorry," Izuku murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Am I hurting you?"

"N-no," she managed, her voice embarrassingly breathy. In truth, the ache between her legs far outweighed any pain from her injuries.

He carried her effortlessly to the couch, his powerful body making her feel deliciously small despite her own considerable height. The movement caused her shorts to ride up further, exposing more of her full thighs. Izuku's eyes flickered down for a fraction of a second before he carefully positioned her in the corner of the couch, arranging her legs across his lap with gentle precision.

The position left her completely at his mercy, her injured leg stretched across his powerful thighs, her silk shorts riding dangerously high. Momo bit her lip hard, fighting the urge to whimper.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice deeper than usual.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as his hand rested just inches from where her thighs met. The heat of his palm radiated through the thin silk of her shorts, tantalizingly close to her aching core.

Izuku reached for the remote, his muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt with the simple movement. "I found this indie film at that little shop near the hospital," he explained, his thumb scrolling through the menu. "The cashier lady laughed when I picked it up—said it was amazing but wouldn't tell me why."

Momo barely registered his words, too focused on the way his thigh muscles flexed beneath her legs every time he shifted position. Her pussy throbbed in response, her panties growing damper by the second. Another one ruined. She pressed her thighs together slightly, desperate for some friction, and couldn't suppress another small whimper.

Izuku's head snapped toward her, his green eyes dark with concern. "You're in pain," he stated, not a question.

"It's nothing," she told the truth, this was certainly not pain right now.

His brow furrowed, those expressive eyes studying her face with an intensity that made her squirm. "Your leg muscles are tense," he observed, his eyes clearly cataloging her discomfort. "Would..." he hesitated, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "Would a massage help?"

Momo's breath caught in her throat. The thought of those strong, scarred hands working their way up her thighs made her inner walls clench with anticipation.

"Yes," she whispered before she could stop herself. "If you don't mind."

Izuku nodded, his expression shifting to determined focus—the same look he wore when analyzing hero strategies. He adjusted his position, turning more fully toward her, and placed both hands gently on her calf.

"Tell me if I hurt you," he said softly, beginning to work his thumbs in small circles against her tense muscles.

Momo bit back a moan as his strong fingers pressed into her flesh, working their way slowly up from her ankle toward her knee. Each press of his thumbs sent jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Her nipples hardened further, pressing visibly against the thin silk of her camisole.

"Is this okay?" Izuku asked, his voice husky as his hands moved higher, now kneading the sensitive spot behind her knee.

"Yes," she managed, the word coming out as a breathless gasp. "That feels... good."

His hands hesitated for a moment before continuing their upward journey, now working the tight muscles of her lower thigh. His fingertips pressed firmly into her flesh, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Momo couldn't help the way her legs parted slightly, inviting him higher.

Izuku's breathing had changed, becoming deeper, more measured, as though he was consciously controlling it. His gaze remained fixed on his hands as they worked their way up her thigh, but Momo didn't miss the way his sweatpants tented noticeably between his legs.

"The muscles are really tight here," he murmured, his thumbs now dangerously close to the edge of her silk shorts. "Probably compensating for the injury."

Momo's eyes widened in horror as the film began playing. What Izuku had innocently described as an "indie film" was unmistakably soft-core pornography. Two women on screen were already engaged in a passionate kiss, their hands roaming over each other's bodies as clothing began to disappear.

"Oh god," she whispered, her face burning with embarrassment.

Izuku, completely oblivious, continued working his strong fingers up her thigh, his thumbs now just centimeters from where her silk shorts had ridden up to expose the very edge of her panties. His brow furrowed in concentration as he kneaded a particularly tight muscle.

"This knot is really deep," he murmured, pressing harder.

The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her clit. Momo bit down hard on her lower lip, disguising her moan as a hiss of pain. On screen, one woman had pushed the other onto a bed, her mouth now trailing down a toned stomach.

"S-sorry," Izuku said, easing the pressure slightly. "Too hard?"

"No," Momo managed, her voice strained. "It's... it's fine."

His fingers resumed their ministrations, working in slow circles that inched ever higher. Each press of his thumbs sent waves of heat radiating through her core. Her pussy clenched desperately around nothing, her arousal now thoroughly soaking through her panties. If he moved his hand just a few inches higher, he would feel the dampness, would know exactly what he was doing to her.

On screen, the women were now completely naked, their bodies entwined as they pleasured each other. The sounds of their moans filled the room. Momo stared fixedly at the coffee table, unable to look at either the explicit scene playing out on television or at Izuku's face.

"The cinematography is... interesting," Izuku commented casually, completely missing the nature of the film. His hands continued their relentless massage, now working the very top of her thigh, his pinky occasionally brushing against the hem of her shorts.

Momo's nipples strained painfully against her camisole, so hard they ached. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide the obvious evidence of her arousal. The movement caused her to shift slightly, and Izuku's thumb accidentally slipped beneath the edge of her shorts, grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, quickly adjusting his position.

The brief contact had been electric. Momo's pussy throbbed violently, her clit swollen and desperate for attention. She pressed her thighs together, trying to create some friction, only to have Izuku gently separate them again.

"You need to keep the muscles relaxed," he explained, completely unaware of the torture he was inflicting.

His hands resumed their work, now alternating between her calves and thighs, occasionally working their way dangerously high before retreating. Each approach to the apex of her thighs left Momo trembling, silently begging for him to touch her where she needed it most.

On screen, the scene had intensified, with one woman now using her mouth between the other's legs. The recipient's moans grew louder, her back arching in pleasure.

Momo's ears burned crimson. She was being edged by both the explicit film and Izuku's innocent massage, trapped in a purgatory of almost-satisfaction. Her pussy clenched rhythmically, so empty and aching that she nearly whimpered aloud.

"Your muscles keep tensing up," Izuku observed, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Try to relax. Focus on breathing."

If only he knew why she couldn't relax. If only he realized that his strong, scarred hands were driving her to the brink of madness with each press and stroke. If only he would move those fingers just a few inches higher, slip them beneath the edge of her shorts, and discover how wet she was for him.

"I'm trying," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the increasingly enthusiastic moans from the television.

Izuku's eyes remained focused on his task, his fingers working methodically up and down her leg. His cock strained visibly against his sweatpants, though whether from the explicit scene playing out on screen or from touching her, Momo couldn't tell.

"This is really helping with the circulation," he said, his clinical tone at odds with the obscene sounds filling the room. "I can feel the blood flow improving already."

Oh, there was definitely improved blood flow, Momo thought desperately, her pussy pulsing with each beat of her heart. Her clit throbbed painfully, begging for just one touch, one stroke, anything to relieve the mounting pressure.

She gripped the couch cushions, her knuckles white with the effort of maintaining her composure. On screen, both women were now approaching climax, their bodies writhing together in ecstasy. Momo couldn't tear her eyes away from the coffee table, couldn't risk looking at either the explicit scene or at Izuku's handsome face.

His hands worked higher again, his thumbs now pressing into the sensitive flesh where her thigh met her hip. So close. So agonizingly close to where she needed him. Momo's breath caught in her throat, her back arching slightly of its own accord.

"Did I find another knot?" Izuku asked, misinterpreting her reaction. His fingers pressed harder, working in small circles that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her core.

"Y-yes," she managed, her voice a breathless whisper. "Right there."

His brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the spot, his strong fingers working the "tension" with careful precision. Each press brought her closer to the edge, her pussy clenching desperately as pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.

On screen, both women reached their climax simultaneously, their cries of ecstasy filling the room. Momo bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood as she fought to contain her own sounds of pleasure. Her hips wanted to buck against Izuku's hand, to guide those skilled fingers to where she needed them most.

"I think this might actually be... um..." Izuku finally seemed to notice the explicit nature of what they were watching, his cheeks flushing crimson. "I don't think this is what I thought it was."

Despite her desperate arousal, Momo couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. "You think?" she managed, her voice strained with the effort of maintaining her composure.

Izuku's hands stilled on her thigh, his embarrassment evident. "I'm so sorry," he said, reaching for the remote. "The cashier must have been laughing because..."

"It's fine," Momo interrupted, not trusting herself to discuss the pornographic film while his hands were still on her leg, still so tantalizingly close to her aching core.

As Izuku fumbled with the remote, his attention diverted, his thumb unconsciously slid higher on her inner thigh, brushing against the very edge of her soaked panties. The brief, accidental contact sent a jolt of pleasure so intense that Momo couldn't suppress the small gasp that escaped her lips.

Izuku's head snapped toward her, his green eyes wide with concern. "Did I hurt you?"

Her pussy throbbed violently, so close to release from that single, fleeting touch. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Not at all."

Izuku finally managed to stop the film, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. The remote clattered onto the coffee table as he released it, running a hand through his messy green hair. His broad shoulders slumped slightly, the muscles in his back visibly tensing beneath his thin t-shirt.

"I am so, so sorry about that," he said, his voice sincere and mortified. "I had no idea—I mean, the cashier was laughing, but I thought maybe it was just an art film or something..."

Momo couldn't tear her eyes away from the way his bicep flexed as he rubbed the back of his neck. The simple movement made her pussy clench with need, her inner walls still throbbing from his earlier accidental touch.

"It's really okay," she managed, her voice huskier than intended. She shifted slightly, trying to alleviate the ache between her legs, only to have her silk shorts ride up further. "These things happen."

Izuku turned to face her, his green eyes so earnest and concerned that it made her heart flutter in her chest. The way his brow furrowed in genuine distress was almost unbearably endearing. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, drawing her attention to the strong column of his throat, to the hint of collarbone visible at the neckline of his shirt.

"Let me make it up to you," he said, completely unaware of the effect his words had on her overheated body. "Are you hungry? I could cook something for dinner."

The mention of food reminded Momo that she hadn't eaten since breakfast at the hospital—a fact her body had been too distracted by arousal to notice until now.

"That would be lovely," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."

Izuku's face lit up with a smile so genuine it made her breath catch. "Great! I’ll fix something up!"

He carefully lifted her legs from his lap, his hands gentle as he arranged them on the couch. The momentary loss of contact left her feeling bereft, her body already missing his touch.

"Any preferences?" he asked, standing to his full height. The movement caused his sweatpants to pull taut across his groin, highlighting the impressive bulge that still hadn't fully subsided. "I've mastered a few different cuisines in my boredom—Italian, French, traditional Japanese..."

Momo forced her eyes away from his crotch, focusing instead on his face. "Surprise me," she said, unable to think clearly enough to make a decision. "I trust your judgment." In cooking, at least, she added silently.

Izuku nodded, his expression serious as though he'd been entrusted with a critical mission rather than simply making dinner. "I'll make something with plenty of protein to help with your healing," he said, his head clearly already at work. "And some complex carbohydrates for sustained energy."

As he turned toward the kitchen, Momo couldn't help but admire the broad expanse of his back, the way his shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, the firm roundness of his ass in those sweatpants. Her mouth went dry at the sight..

"Do you need anything before I start cooking?" Izuku asked, pausing to look back at her.

Yes, your fingers inside me, your mouth on my breasts, your cock stretching me open, Momo thought desperately. "A glass of water would be nice," she said instead, her voice strained.

He nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. The sounds of cabinets opening and closing, water running, and pots being placed on the stove soon filled the apartment. Momo took the opportunity to adjust her position, trying to find some relief for the insistent throbbing between her legs.

When Izuku returned with her water, his t-shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles of his lower abdomen and the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband. Momo nearly choked on her own breath.

"Here you go," he said, handing her the glass with a smile that was somehow both shy and confident. "I'm thinking katsudon with extra protein—I've modified the recipe i normally make for you guys a bit. Is that okay?"

His fingers brushed against hers as she accepted the water, the brief contact sending electricity racing up her arm. "That sounds perfect," she managed, taking a long sip to hide her reaction.

"Great! It'll take about thirty minutes," he said, his enthusiasm endearing. "I'll leave the TV remote here if you want to find something else to watch. Something, um, more appropriate." His cheeks colored slightly at the reminder of the pornographic film.

Momo nodded, not trusting herself to speak as Izuku turned back toward the kitchen. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the flex of his shoulder blades beneath his shirt, the way his sweatpants hugged his firm ass with each step. Her pussy clenched around nothing, still desperately aroused from his earlier massage.

In the kitchen, Izuku began humming softly to himself as he worked, the domestic sound somehow making him even more attractive. Momo heard the rhythmic sound of a knife against a cutting board, followed by the sizzle of oil in a pan. The delicious aroma of cooking food soon filled the apartment, making her stomach growl with hunger—though not the kind that food could satisfy.

She shifted again on the couch, the movement causing the damp fabric of her panties to drag against her swollen clit. A small gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"Everything okay?" Izuku called from the kitchen, his voice laced with genuine concern.

"Fine!" she replied too quickly, her voice unnaturally high. "Just... adjusting my position."

"Let me know if you need help," he said, completely oblivious to the double meaning his words carried.

Momo bit her lip hard, trying to focus on anything other than the ache between her legs. She reached for the remote, desperate for a distraction, and began scrolling through channels. Every program seemed to feature attractive couples in intimate situations—or perhaps that was just her overheated brain interpreting everything through a lens of frustrated desire.

In the kitchen, Izuku continued his meal preparation, occasionally appearing in her line of sight as he moved between counters. Each glimpse of him—reaching for ingredients from a high shelf, his shirt riding up to reveal more of his toned abdomen; bending to retrieve something from a lower cabinet, his sweatpants pulling tight across his ass—only intensified the throbbing between her thighs.

"Almost done," he called, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Just finishing the sauce."

Momo watched as he tasted something from a spoon, his lips closing around it in a way that made her imagine those same lips closing around her nipple, trailing down her stomach, pressing against her aching clit...

"Perfect," he murmured to himself, the single word sending a shiver down her spine.

A few minutes later, Izuku emerged from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls, his biceps flexing with the effort. He placed them carefully on the coffee table before returning to the kitchen for chopsticks and napkins.

"I hope you like it," he said, settling beside her on the couch again. "I've been experimenting with different flavor profiles."

The meal looked and smelled delicious—perfectly crisp katsu atop fluffy rice, with a rich, glossy sauce drizzled over the top. Momo's stomach growled audibly, reminding her that one kind of hunger, at least, could be satisfied.

"It looks amazing," she said truthfully, accepting the chopsticks he offered.

Their fingers brushed again during the exchange, and Momo had to bite back another gasp at the jolt of pleasure the simple contact sent through her body. Izuku seemed not to notice, his attention focused on arranging her bowl within easy reach.

"Careful, it's hot," he warned, his brow furrowing with concern. "Here, let me help you sit up a bit more."

Before she could protest, his strong arms were around her again, adjusting her position on the couch with gentle precision. The movement pressed her breasts briefly against his chest, her hardened nipples dragging against the thin silk of her camisole. She bit her lip to suppress a moan.

"Better?" he asked, his face now inches from hers, close enough that she could feel his warm breath against her cheek.

Momo nodded mutely, not trusting her voice. His eyes were so green, so earnest, his lips so tantalizingly close...

"Great," Izuku said with a smile, seemingly oblivious to her internal struggle. He moved back to his position beside her, their thighs still touching as he reached for his own bowl. "Let's eat before it gets cold."

The first bite of food was indeed delicious, the flavors complex and perfectly balanced. Under normal circumstances, Momo would have been impressed by Izuku's culinary skills. But with her body still thrumming with unsatisfied desire, she could barely focus on the taste.

"This is really good," she managed, forcing herself to concentrate on the meal rather than on the way Izuku's throat moved when he swallowed, or how his tongue darted out to catch a drop of sauce at the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks," he said, his smile bashful yet pleased. "Cooking gives me something productive to do with all my extra time. Plus, proper nutrition is essential for maintaining peak physical condition, even without—" He stopped abruptly, a shadow crossing his features.

Even without One For All, Momo finished silently, her heart aching for him. Despite her own desperate arousal, she couldn't help but notice the momentary pain in his eyes, quickly masked behind another smile.

"Even without active hero work," he finished instead, his voice deliberately light.

Momo wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to tell him how amazing he was—quirk or no quirk. Instead, she took another bite of food, her chopsticks trembling slightly in her hand.

"It's really exceptional," she said truthfully. "You could open a restaurant if you wanted."

Izuku laughed, the sound warming something deep inside her chest. "I don't think I'd have the patience for that. But I'm glad you like it."

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, though Momo remained acutely aware of every movement Izuku made—the flex of his jaw as he chewed, the way his fingers gripped his chopsticks, the occasional brush of his thigh against hers when he shifted position.

"So," he said finally, setting his empty bowl aside. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Only the exquisite torture of unfulfilled desire, Momo thought desperately. "I'm okay," she lied, setting her own bowl down. "The massage helped a lot."

Izuku's cheeks colored slightly at the mention of the massage, and Momo wondered if he'd realized how affected she'd been by his touch. "Good," he said, his voice a touch deeper than before. "Dr. Shimizu said to make sure you take your pain medication before bed."

Bed. The word hung between them, laden with implications that Izuku seemed completely unaware of. Momo swallowed hard, imagining him carrying her to his bedroom, laying her on his sheets, those strong hands moving over her body with purpose rather than innocent concern...

"Momo?" Izuku's voice broke through her fantasy. "You look flushed. Are you running a fever?"

Before she could respond, his hand was on her forehead, his palm cool against her overheated skin. The simple touch sent another wave of arousal coursing through her body, her pussy clenching so hard it was almost painful.

"You do feel warm," he said, his brow furrowed with concern. "Maybe we should check your temperature."

If he only knew the true cause of her flushed state, Momo thought desperately. "I'm fine," she insisted, her voice breathy. "Just... tired, I think."

Izuku nodded, his expression serious. "Of course. You've had a long day. Let me help you get ready for bed."

"I can manage," she said quickly, though the thought of standing on her injured leg was decidedly unappealing.

Izuku's eyes narrowed slightly. "Momo," he said, his voice taking on that authoritative edge that made her pussy throb with need. "You're not supposed to be walking. Doctor's orders, remember?"

"Fine," she conceded, her voice small.

Izuku's expression softened immediately. "Hey," he said gently, his hand moving to rest on her arm. "I know it's frustrating to be dependent on someone else. But it's just for a little while, and I really don't mind helping."

His kindness only made her want him more. Momo nodded, not trusting herself to speak as Izuku stood and carefully gathered her in his arms once more. The solid strength of his chest against her side, the heat of his body seeping through her thin camisole, the scent of him filling her lungs—it was all too much and not enough simultaneously.

As he carried her toward the bedroom, Momo's heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. How was she going to survive a week of this sweet torture? How could she hide her desperate desire when his every touch, his every glance, his every word made her want to beg him to cum down her throat?

"Almost there," he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and straight into her core.

Momo bit her lip, trying desperately to control her body's response to his proximity. The solid heat of him, the flex of his muscles beneath her, the careful way he held her as though she were something precious—it was overwhelming. Her pussy throbbed with each step, her silk shorts doing nothing to contain the wetness seeping from between her legs.

When they reached the bedroom, Momo's breath caught at the sight of his bed—neatly made with fresh sheets, a glass of water and her medication placed carefully on the nightstand. The domesticity of it, the thoughtfulness, made her heart squeeze in her chest even as her body burned with desire.

Izuku gently lowered her to sit on the edge of the bed, his strong hands lingering at her waist for a moment longer than necessary. The mattress dipped beneath their combined weight, bringing their bodies closer together. His face was inches from hers, close enough that she could count each individual freckle scattered across his cheeks, could see the flecks of darker green in his irises.

"Do you want to sleep now?" he asked, his voice husky in the quiet room. A flush crept up his neck as he added, "Or would you like to take a bath first?"

The thought of warm water enveloping her aching body was tempting, but the idea of Izuku helping her undress, seeing her naked and vulnerable, sent a fresh wave of heat between her thighs. Her pussy clenched at the mere possibility, her inner walls fluttering around nothing. Ah. Fuck it.

"A bath sounds wonderful," she whispered, her training barely keeping her voice steady.

Izuku nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I'll get it ready for you."

As he stood to move toward the bathroom, Momo's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before she could think better of it. His skin was warm beneath her fingers, the muscles of his forearm tense and solid. The contact sent electricity racing up her arm.

"Izuku," she said, her voice breathy with desire she could no longer fully disguise. "Would you... would you mind staying? In the bathroom, I mean. While I bathe."

His eyes widened, those beautiful green irises nearly swallowed by his dilating pupils. "S-stay?" he repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

Momo's cheeks burned, but she couldn't bring herself to retract the request. The thought of him in the same room while she was naked, separated only by bathwater and perhaps a thin layer of bubbles, was intoxicating.

"In case I need help," she explained, the excuse flimsy even to her own ears. "With my injury."

Izuku's throat worked as he swallowed again, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. "Of course," he said, his voice deeper than she'd ever heard it. "If that's what you want."

"It is," she whispered, releasing his wrist with reluctance.

He nodded, moving toward the bathroom with slightly unsteady steps. The sound of running water soon filled the apartment, steam beginning to curl from the open doorway. Momo's heart hammered against her ribs, her pussy throbbing in time with each beat. What was she thinking? What was she doing?

She didn't know. She only knew that the thought of Izuku's presence while she was naked, vulnerable, and wet was the most arousing thing she'd ever imagined. Her inner walls clenched again, her clit swollen and aching beneath the damp silk of her shorts.

"The water's ready," Izuku called, his voice strained.

Momo took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "I'm coming," she called back, then winced at her unfortunate choice of words.

She shifted to the edge of the bed, preparing to stand despite her injured leg. Before she could attempt it, Izuku appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame. His eyes were dark with an emotion Momo couldn't quite identify—or perhaps didn't dare to name.

"Let me help you," he said decisively, moving toward her with purpose.

His strong arms slid beneath her once more, lifting her effortlessly against his chest. The movement pressed her breasts against his firm pectorals, her hardened nipples dragging against the thin silk of her camisole. A small gasp escaped her lips before she could suppress it.

"Sorry," Izuku murmured, mistaking her reaction for pain. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not at all."

He carried her into the bathroom, where steam rose from the full tub, the water shimmering invitingly. The small room felt even smaller with his powerful presence filling it, the air thick with humidity and unspoken tension.

Izuku carefully set her down on the closed toilet lid, his hands lingering at her waist for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. He stepped back, his back pressing against the sink as he tried to create space between them in the confined room.

"I, um," he began, his cheeks flushed crimson. "Do you need help with...?" He gestured vaguely toward her clothes, his eyes darting away from her body.

Momo's heart raced, her courage wavering. This was her moment to back down, to send him away, to preserve the last shreds of her dignity. Instead, she found herself nodding, her pussy throbbing at the thought of his hands removing her clothing.

"If you don't mind," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Izuku's eyes met hers, something dark and hungry flashing in their depths before he quickly masked it with concern. "Of course," he said, his voice strained. "Whatever you need."

He moved toward her again, kneeling before her with his powerful thighs spread wide to maintain his balance. In this position, his face was level with her breasts, his breath warm against the thin silk of her camisole. Momo bit her lip hard, fighting back a moan.

"Should I start with...?" His hands hovered near the hem of her camisole, his fingers trembling slightly.

Momo nodded, not trusting her voice. Her nipples strained against the silk, visibly hard and aching for his touch. She raised her arms slightly, giving him permission to remove the garment.

Izuku's hands grasped the hem of her camisole, his knuckles brushing against the soft skin of her stomach as he slowly began to lift it. Each inch of revealed skin seemed to draw his gaze like a magnet, his breathing becoming more labored as the underside of her full breasts came into view.

"Momo," he whispered, his voice rough with an emotion she dared to hope was desire. "Are you sure about this?"

Her pussy clenched at the sound of her name on his lips, at the rawness in his tone. "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Izuku's throat worked as he swallowed hard, continuing to lift the camisole over the full swell of her breasts. A small whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it.

His eyes darkened at the sound, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of green remained. The camisole continued its upward journey, finally clearing her breasts entirely. Momo heard his sharp intake of breath as her naked breasts were fully revealed to him—large, full, and perfect, with rosy nipples standing at attention in the steamy air.

"Fuck," he whispered, the curse sounding foreign and delicious on his lips.

Momo felt her pussy clench violently at the raw need in his voice, fresh wetness soaking through her already drenched panties. She raised her arms higher, allowing him to pull the camisole over her head entirely.

As the garment cleared her face, their eyes met—hers dark with desperate need, his burning with barely restrained hunger. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air between them charged with electricity.

"The shorts," Momo whispered, her voice breaking the spell. "I need help with the shorts too."

Izuku's gaze dropped to where the thin silk shorts clung to her thighs, riding up to reveal the very edge of her soaked panties. His large hands moved to her hips, his fingers trembling slightly as they hooked into the waistband.

"Lift up a bit," he instructed, his voice deeper than she'd ever heard it.

Momo braced her hands on the toilet seat, raising her hips slightly to allow him to slide the shorts down. The movement brought her face closer to his, their breaths mingling in the steamy air. His knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin of her lower abdomen as he began to pull the shorts down, revealing the damp patch on her white panties where her arousal had soaked through.

Izuku's breathing hitched, his eyes fixed on the visible evidence of her desire. "Momo," he whispered again, the single word laden with question and need.

"Please," she responded, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was begging for.

He continued drawing the shorts down her thighs, careful to avoid jostling her injured leg. The silk slid over her skin with agonizing slowness, each inch revealing more of her long, toned legs. When the shorts reached her ankles, Izuku gently lifted each foot to remove them completely, his touch reverent against her skin.

Now clad only in her soaked white panties, Momo felt both vulnerable and powerful. Izuku's eyes roved over her nearly naked body with undisguised hunger, lingering on her full breasts, the curve of her waist, the damp fabric between her thighs. His cock strained visibly against his sweatpants, the outline thick and long down the leg.

"The bath will get cold," she whispered, her voice husky with need.

Izuku nodded, his throat working as he swallowed hard. "Right," he said, his voice rough. "Your um..."

Momo's heart hammered against her ribs.

"Yes," she whispered, lifting her hips slightly once more. "Please."

Izuku's fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, his knuckles brushing against her hipbones. His eyes remained locked with hers as he began to slide the damp fabric down, revealing the glistening pink folds of her pussy, slick and swollen with arousal.

A guttural groan escaped Izuku's lips as her sex was fully revealed to him—slick, pink, and glistening with arousal. Her pussy lips were swollen and parted, a thin strand of her wetness connecting them as he removed her panties completely from her thick, powerful thighs.

"Oh god," he whispered, his cock throbbing painfully against his sweatpants.

The scent hit him like a physical force—musky, sweet, and undeniably feminine. His brain, usually so quick to categorize and understand, had short-circuited completely. Static filled his brain as he stared at the evidence of her arousal, unable to process what it might mean.

She can't possibly want me, he thought desperately. She's just... embarrassed. Or maybe it's a side effect of her medication? Or maybe all women get this wet during baths?

His hands trembled as he gently slid his arms beneath her naked body, lifting her from the toilet seat. Her wetness dripped onto his forearm, the warm liquid sending jolts of electricity straight to his groin. Her full breasts pressed against his chest, her hardened nipples dragging against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Careful," he managed, his voice a strained whisper as he carried her to the bathtub.

Momo's inner voice was screaming in elation. Yes! Touch me! Look at me! Her pussy throbbed with each beat of her heart as Izuku's strong arms cradled her naked body. The feeling of being completely exposed to him, vulnerable and dripping with arousal, was the most erotic experience of her life.

He lowered her gently into the warm water, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt with the controlled movement. The water enveloped her heated skin, providing momentary relief from the burning need consuming her. As her ass touched the bottom of the tub, her breasts remained partially above the waterline, her hardened nipples pointing accusingly at Izuku's flushed face.

"Is the temperature okay?" he asked, his voice rough with an emotion he was desperately trying to suppress.

"Perfect," she breathed, her eyes locked on his face, searching for any sign that he understood what was happening between them.

Izuku nodded jerkily, then practically collapsed onto the closed toilet lid, his back rigid, his ears burning crimson. He fixed his gaze determinedly on the bathroom wall, his hands gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"So," he said, his voice unnaturally high. "How are the gals doing? Kyoka mentioned something about a new album in her texts."

Momo bit back a laugh at his transparent attempt at casual conversation of things that he very much already knew the answers to while she sat naked in his bathtub, her pussy still throbbing with need beneath the water. She shifted slightly, the movement causing ripples across the surface and drawing Izuku's eyes momentarily before he snapped them back to the wall.

"Everyone's doing well," she replied, her voice deliberately sultry as she slid her hand beneath the water. "Kyoka's band is really taking off. They're touring next month."

As she spoke, her fingers found her swollen clit beneath the water, circling it slowly while keeping her eyes fixed on Izuku's profile. The combination of touching herself while carrying on a normal conversation with him, all while he sat just feet away, sent thrills of forbidden pleasure racing through her body.

"That's great," Izuku said, shifting uncomfortably on the toilet seat, desperately searching in his mind questions. "And, um, how about Uraraka? Is she still working with that rescue agency?"

Momo's fingers moved faster beneath the water, her breathing becoming slightly labored as she pleasured herself to the sight of his strong back, the way his muscles tensed beneath his t-shirt, the outline of his cock straining against his sweatpants.

"Yes," she managed, fighting to keep her voice steady as waves of pleasure built between her legs. "She's... ah... she's been promoted to team leader."

Izuku nodded, still staring fixedly at the wall. "That's amazing. She always was great at coordinating rescue operations."

Momo slipped a finger inside herself, her inner walls clenching greedily around the digit. She added a second finger, imagining it was a single one of Izuku’s finger splitting her open. Her thumb continued to circle her clit as she fucked herself slowly beneath the water, her free hand gripping the edge of the tub to keep herself from making too much noise.

"And Tsuyu?" Izuku continued, completely oblivious to what was happening behind him. "I heard she was working on some kind of underwater rescue technology."

"Mmmhmm," Momo hummed, unable to form words as her fingers curled inside her pussy, finding that spot that made her toes curl. "She's... she's doing great."

The water sloshed slightly with her movements, the subtle sound filling the small bathroom. Izuku's shoulders tensed further, his back straightening as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible despite his muscular frame.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice strained. "Do you need any help?"

Oh god, yes, Momo thought desperately, her fingers moving faster, her pussy clenching around them as she approached the edge. I need your cock splitting my virgin pussy.

"I'm fine," she gasped, her voice breaking slightly as pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. "Just... adjusting."

Izuku's knuckles whitened further as he gripped his knees, his breathing becoming more labored. "Good, that's... that's good."

Momo's eyes fixed on the powerful line of his shoulders, the way his green hair curled at the nape of his neck, damp with sweat in the steamy bathroom. Her orgasm approached rapidly, her inner walls fluttering around her fingers as she imagined those strong, scarred hands replacing her own, those full lips whispering filthy encouragements in her ear.

"And what about Mina?" Izuku asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Is she still working on that fashion company on the side?"

The question pushed Momo over the edge—the absurdity of discussing their friend's entrepreneurial endeavours while she fucked herself to the sight of him sending her crashing into a powerful orgasm. Her pussy clenched violently around her fingers, her back arching slightly as waves of pleasure washed through her body.

She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out, a small whimper escaping despite her best efforts. Her thighs trembled beneath the water, her toes curling as the orgasm rippled through her.

"Momo?" Izuku's voice was laced with concern, though he still didn't turn around. "Are you okay? Did you hurt your leg?"

Momo struggled to catch her breath, her pussy still pulsing with aftershocks around her fingers. "I'm fine," she managed, her voice trembling slightly. "Just a small muscle cramp. It's passed now."

Izuku nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "That's good. Do you want me to get you anything? More hot water maybe?"

Momo withdrew her fingers from inside herself, the emptiness making her pussy clench with renewed need despite her recent orgasm. One release wasn't nearly enough after the day of edging she'd endured.

"Actually," she said, her voice deliberately innocent, "could you help me wash my back? I don't think I can reach with my injury."

Izuku's entire body went rigid, his ears burning an even deeper shade of red. "Y-your back?" he repeated, his voice barely audible.

"If you don't mind," Momo added, her heart racing with anticipation.

She watched as Izuku's internal struggle played out in the tense line of his shoulders, the way his hands opened and closed reflexively on his knees. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded jerkily.

"Of course," he said, his voice strained. "Whatever you need."

As he slowly turned to face her, his eyes dark with an emotion he was desperately trying to suppress, Momo felt her pussy clench with renewed arousal.

Izuku approached the bathtub with the careful precision of a man navigating a minefield. His pulse hammered in his ears as he knelt beside the tub, trying desperately to keep his eyes fixed on Momo's face rather than the expanse of wet, glistening skin below. The soap bar trembled slightly in his scarred hand.

"I'll, um, just..." he mumbled, gesturing vaguely toward her back.

Momo shifted in the water, the movement causing her full breasts to bob slightly above the waterline. Her rosy nipples stood proudly erect in the steamy air, droplets of water clinging to the perfect curves. Izuku's cock throbbed painfully against his sweatpants as he averted his gaze, his face burning.

"Thank you," Momo said, her voice carrying a husky quality he'd never heard before. She leaned forward slightly, presenting her back to him while glancing over her shoulder. "I really appreciate this."

The movement caused her to rise partially from the water, the elegant curve of her spine drawing his eye downward to where the water lapped at the small of her back, just above the swell of her ass. Izuku swallowed hard, his throat suddenly bone-dry.

"No problem," he managed, his voice embarrassingly strained. "Just... just doing what friends do."

Friends don't typically bathe each other naked, a voice in his head pointed out unhelpfully. He silenced it, focusing instead on the task at hand with the same determination he'd once applied to hero training.

He lathered the soap between his palms, the simple action requiring far more concentration than it should have. When his hands finally made contact with Momo's wet skin, a small gasp escaped her lips. The sound went straight to his groin, his cock twitching in response.

"Sorry," he said automatically. "Too cold?"

"No," Momo breathed, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the bathwater. "It feels... nice."

Izuku nodded jerkily, though she couldn't see him, and began to move his hands across her back in what he hoped were clinical, efficient strokes. Her skin was impossibly soft beneath his calloused palms, the contrast between his rough hands and her silken flesh making his head spin.

"You can... press harder," Momo suggested, arching her back slightly into his touch. "I won't break."

The movement caused her ass to rise further from the water, the upper curves now visible above the surface. Izuku bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood, desperately trying to focus on anything other than the way the water droplets traced paths down the elegant slope of her back to disappear between the cleft of her ass.

"Right," he said, his voice a strained whisper. "Harder."

He applied more pressure, his strong fingers working the soap into her skin with firm, circular motions. Momo let out a low moan that seemed to reverberate through his entire body, settling heavily in his groin. His cock strained painfully against his sweatpants, the tip leaking precum that formed a small damp spot on the fabric.

"That feels amazing," she murmured, her head dropping forward to expose the nape of her neck. "Your hands are so strong."

Izuku's brain short-circuited momentarily, static filling his mind as he tried to process her words, her tone, the way her body responded to his touch. Was she...? Could she possibly be...? No, he decided firmly. She was just being polite. Appreciative of his help.

"Thanks," he managed, continuing his methodical washing of her back. "I still keep up with my training regimen."

His hands worked their way up to her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there with careful precision. Another moan escaped her lips, this one lower and more throaty. The sound made his cock throb so violently he had to pause for a moment, afraid he might embarrass himself completely.

"Izuku," Momo said, her voice taking on a pleading quality that made his breath catch. "Could you... would you mind washing my front too? My arms are feeling a bit weak."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as Izuku processed her request. His hands froze on her shoulders, his heart hammering so hard against his ribs he was certain she must be able to hear it.

"Your... front?" he repeated, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

Momo turned her head, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. Her eyes were liquid with an emotion he couldn't quite identify—or perhaps didn't dare to name. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the simple gesture making his cock twitch again.

"Only if you're comfortable with it," she said softly, a hint of vulnerability threading through her tone. "I understand if it's too... awkward."

Izuku's mind raced through possibilities, searching desperately for the correct response. If he refused, would she think he found her unattractive? If he agreed, would she think he was taking advantage of her injured state? What was the proper protocol for washing your stunningly beautiful friend's naked breasts while trying not to reveal that you'd fantasized about them for years?

"I—I can help," he said finally, his voice rough. "If you're sure it's okay."

Momo nodded, shifting in the water to face him fully. The movement caused her breasts to sway slightly, water cascading down the perfect globes. Her nipples stood proudly erect, pointing directly at him like an accusation.

"I trust you," she said simply, and those three words nearly undid him completely.

Izuku lathered the soap again with trembling hands, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Be clinical. Be respectful. Don't stare. Don't touch inappropriately. Don't get hard. Too late for that last one, he thought grimly, his cock straining painfully against his sweatpants.

With a deep breath that did nothing to calm his racing heart, he brought his soapy hands to her shoulders, starting at the safest possible location. His fingers worked in small circles, gradually moving outward toward her arms.

"You can..." Momo began, then bit her lip. "You don't have to be so cautious."

Izuku's eyes met hers for a brief moment before dropping to where his hands rested on her shoulders. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he admitted, his voice barely audible.

"You're not," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his face. "I promise."

Something in her tone made his heart skip a beat. With a courage he didn't know he possessed, Izuku allowed his hands to slide lower, tracing the elegant collarbones that framed the base of her throat. Her skin was warm and slick beneath his touch, perfect in a way that made his throat tighten with emotion.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice husky with restraint.

Momo nodded, her breath coming faster now. "Very okay," she whispered.

His hands continued their downward journey, hovering for a moment at the swell of her breasts. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

"Momo," he said, her name a question and a plea all at once.

"Please," she responded, the single word laden with a need that mirrored his own.

With a shaky breath, Izuku allowed his hands to cup the undersides of her breasts, their weight perfect and heavy in his palms. A sound escaped him—half groan, half whimper—as he felt her hardened nipples brush against his wrists.

Momo's head fell back slightly, her lips parting on a silent gasp. Her dark eyes remained fixed on his face, watching his reactions with an intensity that made his cock throb painfully against his sweatpants.

"Is this... am I doing this right?" he asked, his voice strained as he gently moved his soapy hands over the curves of her breasts, carefully avoiding her nipples.

A small smile curved Momo's lips, somehow both shy and knowing. "There's no wrong way," she assured him, her voice breathy. "But you could be a bit more... thorough."

Izuku swallowed hard, trying to decipher her meaning. More thorough? Did she mean...?

With a courage born of desperate need, he allowed his thumbs to brush lightly over her nipples. The effect was immediate—Momo's back arched, pressing her breasts more firmly into his hands as a soft moan escaped her lips.

"Like that?" he asked, his voice dropping to a register he barely recognized as his own.

"Yes," she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily. "Exactly like that."

Emboldened by her response, Izuku continued his ministrations, circling her nipples with his thumbs while his fingers gently kneaded the soft flesh of her breasts. Each gasp, each subtle arch of her back, each flutter of her eyelashes sent jolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, the words escaping before he could stop them.

Momo's eyes opened, meeting his with an intensity that made his breath catch. "Izuku," she said, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips. "I need to tell you something."

His hands stilled on her breasts, fear suddenly gripping his heart. Had he misread the situation? Gone too far? Ruined their friendship forever?

"What is it?" he asked, his voice tight with anxiety.

Momo bit her lip, a vulnerability in her expression he'd rarely seen before. "I've never done anything like this," she admitted, her composure cracking slightly. "I'm not... I don't know how to..."

Understanding dawned on Izuku, warming his chest with something that felt dangerously like hope. "How to what?" he prompted gently, his thumbs unconsciously resuming their gentle circles around her nipples.

"How to tell someone that I want them," she whispered, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink that had nothing to do with the warm bathwater. "That I've wanted them for a long time."

Izuku's heart seemed to stop in his chest, the world narrowing to just the two of them in this steamy bathroom, his hands on her perfect breasts, her eyes dark with desire.

"You want..." he began, unable to complete the thought, afraid to hope.

"You," Momo finished for him, her voice gaining strength even as her blush deepened. "I want you, Izuku. I've been trying to show you all day, but I don't think I'm very good at it."

A laugh bubbled up from his chest, born of relief and joy and overwhelming desire. "You're perfect at it," he assured her, his hands sliding up to cup her face. "I just couldn't believe it was real. That someone like you could want someone like me."

Momo leaned into his touch, her wet hand coming up to cover his where it rested against her cheek. "Someone like me?" she repeated, a hint of her old insecurity threading through her voice. "You mean someone inexperienced and awkward and…"

Izuku shook his head, his thumb tracing the elegant line of her cheekbone. "Someone brilliant," he corrected her. "Beautiful. Strong. Perfect."

Her eyes widened at his words, something vulnerable and hopeful flashing in their depths. "I'm not perfect," she whispered.

"You are to me," he said simply, the truth of it resonating in his chest.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air between them charged with possibility. Then, moving with a courage he didn't know he possessed, Izuku leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something more urgent, more desperate. Momo's wet hands came up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as her mouth opened beneath his. The taste of her—sweet and warm and perfect—made his head spin, his cock throbbing painfully against the confines of his sweatpants.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, Momo's eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen from his kiss. Water droplets clung to her flushed skin, making her glow in the bathroom's soft light.

"Izuku," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I think I'm ready to get out of the bath now."

He immediately understood her meaning, sending a jolt of both terror and excitement through his body. "Are you sure?" he asked, needing her to be certain.

Momo nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm sure," she said, her voice steady despite the blush staining her cheeks. "I want... I want you to take me to bed."

Izuku's cock throbbed at her words, at the raw need in her voice. With hands that shook only slightly, he reached for a nearby towel, holding it open for her. "Let me help you," he said, his voice deep with promise.

With trembling hands, Izuku slid his arms beneath Momo's wet, naked body. Water cascaded from her curves as he lifted her from the tub, her full breasts pressing against his chest, soaking his thin t-shirt. The sudden contact of her hardened nipples against his pecs sent electricity racing through his body, his cock throbbing painfully against his sweatpants.

"I've got you," he whispered, his voice unrecognizably deep with need.

Momo's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his messy green hair. The scent of her—clean skin, expensive soap, and beneath it all, the unmistakable musk of feminine arousal—made his head spin. Her wet body was hot against him, burning through his clothes like a brand.

As he carried her toward the bedroom, her lips found his neck, pressing soft kisses against his pulse point. Each touch of her mouth sent jolts of pleasure straight to his groin. His cock strained against the fabric of his sweatpants, the outline clearly visible and impossible to hide.

"Izuku," she breathed against his skin, her voice vibrating through him. "I want you so badly."

Her confession nearly made his knees buckle. He tightened his grip on her naked form, his fingers digging slightly into the soft flesh of her thigh and the smooth skin of her back. The bathroom door bumped against his shoulder as he maneuvered them through, too distracted by her proximity to navigate properly.

"Sorry," he mumbled, then gasped as Momo's teeth grazed his earlobe, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

"Don't apologize," she whispered. "Just take me to bed."

The few steps to his bedroom felt like miles, each movement bringing her wet body into new contact with his. Her breasts slid against his chest as she shifted in his arms, the fabric of his shirt now translucent where it clung to his muscled torso. He could feel her nipples, hard and insistent, dragging against him with each step.

When they finally reached the bed, Izuku hesitated, suddenly unsure. "The sheets," he said, his mind absurdly focused on practical concerns even as his body burned with need. "You're still wet..."

Momo laughed, the sound both musical and deeply erotic. "I don't think that matters," she said, her eyes locked on his. "I suspect they're going to get wet anyway."

Her meaning hit him like a physical blow, his cock jerking in response. With careful movements that belied the desperate need coursing through him, he laid her on the bed, her naked body a vision against his dark sheets. Water droplets clung to her skin, highlighting the curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. Her legs parted slightly as she settled against the mattress, giving him a glimpse of pink, swollen flesh between her thighs.

"Fuck," he whispered, the curse feeling foreign yet perfect on his tongue as he stood beside the bed, drinking in the sight of her.

Momo's cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn't move to cover herself. Instead, she reached for him, her elegant fingers wrapping around his wrist. "Your clothes," she said, her voice trembling slightly with need. "Take them off. I want to see you."

Izuku's heart hammered against his ribs as he nodded, his hands moving to the hem of his soaked t-shirt. He pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen, marked with the scars of countless battles. The cool air against his heated skin made him shiver, or perhaps it was the way Momo's eyes darkened as they roamed over his exposed torso.

"You're beautiful," she whispered, echoing his earlier words back to him.

His hands moved to the waistband of his sweatpants, hesitating for just a moment. Momo's gaze dropped to where his erection strained against the fabric, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in a gesture that made his cock throb painfully.

"Please," she said, the single word breaking through his hesitation.

With a deep breath, Izuku pushed his sweatpants down his muscular thighs, taking his boxers with them in one movement. His cock sprang free, thick and long and achingly hard, the tip glistening with precum. He heard Momo's sharp intake of breath, saw her eyes widen as she took in his size.

"Oh," she whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and apprehension. "You're... bigger than I expected."

Izuku felt his cheeks burn, suddenly self-conscious despite the hungry look in her eyes. "Is that... is that okay?" he asked, his voice rough with desire and uncertainty.

Momo nodded, her eyes never leaving his cock as she shifted on the bed, making room for him beside her. "More than okay," she assured him, her voice breathy. "Come here."

He moved toward her, his eyes cataloging every detail of this moment—the way her wet hair clung to her neck, the rise and fall of her perfect breasts with each breath, the slight tremble in her hand as she reached for him. He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, bringing their bodies closer together.

Momo's hand found his, their fingers intertwining on the damp sheets. "I’ve never…" she admitted, vulnerability threading through her tone. "But I want it to be you."

Her words sent a surge of emotion through his chest, so powerful it momentarily eclipsed even the desperate need of his body. "Momo," he whispered, her name a prayer on his lips as he leaned down to kiss her.

Their mouths met in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something more urgent, more primal. Her lips parted beneath his, her tongue meeting his in a dance that sent fire racing through his veins. His hand moved to cup her face, his thumb tracing the elegant line of her cheekbone as their kiss deepened.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, Momo's eyes were dark with a need that matched his own. Her hand moved tentatively to his chest, fingers tracing the defined muscles there, exploring the ridges and valleys of his scars with gentle curiosity.

"I've wanted to touch you like this for so long," she confessed, her voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "To feel you. All of you."

Her hand continued its downward journey, trailing over his abdomen, following the line of dark hair that led to his groin. Izuku's breath caught in his throat as her fingers brushed against the base of his cock, the simple touch nearly undoing him completely.

"Show me what to do," she whispered, her confidence momentarily giving way to uncertainty. "I want to make you feel good."

Izuku swallowed hard, his cock throbbing at her words. With trembling fingers, he covered her hand with his own, guiding her to wrap around as much of his shaft as she could. The feel of her soft palm against his sensitive skin made him groan, his head falling back slightly.

"Like this?" Momo asked, her voice gaining confidence as she felt his reaction.

"Yes," he gasped, guiding her hand in a slow up-and-down motion. "Just like that."

Her grip tightened slightly as she gained confidence, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the precum that gathered there. Each stroke of her hand sent waves of pleasure through his body, building a pressure at the base of his spine that threatened to overwhelm him too quickly.

"Wait," he managed, gently stilling her hand. "I don't want to... not yet."

Understanding dawned in her eyes, a small smile curving her lips. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice taking on that sultry quality that made his cock twitch in her grip.

"I want to touch you," he admitted, his eyes dropping to where her breasts rose and fell with each quickened breath. "To taste you."

Momo's lips parted on a silent gasp, her thighs pressing together as though to alleviate the ache between them. "Yes," she whispered, releasing his cock to lie back against the pillows. "Please."

Izuku moved to kneel beside her on the bed, his eyes roving over her naked form with undisguised hunger. Her skin, still slightly damp from the bath, glistened in the soft light of the bedroom. Her full breasts rose and fell with each breath, the rosy nipples standing proudly erect. Her waist curved inward before flaring to the generous swell of her hips, between which nestled the neatly trimmed thatch of dark hair that did little to conceal the glistening pink folds beneath.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice reverent as he reached out to trace the curve of her collarbone with his fingertips.

Momo's eyes fluttered closed at his touch, her back arching slightly to press into his hand. "More," she breathed, the single word a plea that resonated through his entire body.

His hand continued its exploration, trailing down to cup the weight of her breast. The soft flesh filled his palm perfectly, her nipple a hard point against his scarred skin. He squeezed gently, drawing a soft moan from her lips that made his cock throb with need.

Emboldened by her response, Izuku leaned down, replacing his hand with his mouth. His lips closed around her nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as his hand moved to her other breast, kneading the soft flesh with careful pressure.

"Oh!" Momo gasped, her back arching off the bed, pressing more of her breast into his mouth. "Izuku, that feels... ah!"

Her reaction spurred him on, cataloging each gasp, each moan, each subtle shift of her body beneath his ministrations. He sucked harder, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. His free hand abandoned her breast to trail down her stomach, feeling the muscles there quiver beneath his touch.

When his fingers reached the wet between her thighs, he hesitated, suddenly uncertain despite the clear evidence of her desire. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice rough with need.

"Yes," Momo gasped, her thighs parting further in invitation. "Please, Izuku. Touch me."

His fingers moved lower, sliding through her folds to find her impossibly wet, her arousal coating his digits with slick heat. The feeling of her—so soft, so ready for him—made his cock throb painfully, precum leaking from the tip to pool on the sheets beneath him.

"You're so wet," he marveled, his mind momentarily overwhelmed by the physical evidence of her desire.

"For you," she whispered, her hips rising slightly to press against his hand.

Her words sent a surge of pleasure through his chest. His fingers explored her folds with careful precision, learning the geography of her most intimate place. When he found the small bundle of nerves at her apex, Momo's reaction was immediate and visceral—her back arching sharply, a cry escaping her lips that made his cock pulse with answering need.

"There," she gasped, her composure completely abandoned now. "Right there."

Izuku focused his attention on her clit, circling it with his fingertip while his mouth continued to lavish attention on her breast. The combination drew increasingly desperate sounds from Momo, her hips rolling against his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction.

"Inside," she pleaded, her voice breaking on the word. "I need you inside."

His cock throbbed at her words, but he understood she meant his fingers. With careful movements, he slid one digit to her entrance, feeling the tight ring of muscle there. He pressed forward gently, his finger sinking into her wet heat.

"Oh god," Momo moaned, her inner walls clenching around his digit. "More."

Izuku added a second finger, stretching her carefully as he continued to circle her clit with his thumb. The tight grip of her pussy around his fingers made him imagine how she would feel around his cock—hot and wet and perfect. The thought nearly undid him.

"Izuku," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets as he curled his fingers inside her, searching for that spot that would drive her wild. "I'm close. I'm so close."

He increased the pressure on her clit, his fingers moving faster inside her as his mouth sucked harder on her nipple. Momo's moans grew louder, her body tensing beneath him as she approached the edge.

"Let go," he encouraged, lifting his mouth from her breast to watch her face. "I've got you."

Her eyes met his, dark with a need so raw it made his breath catch. "Izuku," she whispered, his name a plea and a prayer on her lips.

And then she was coming, her back arching off the bed, her pussy clenching rhythmically around his fingers as waves of pleasure washed through her body. Her face, transformed by ecstasy, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen—her lips parted on a silent scream, her eyes wide and unfocused, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

Izuku continued his movements, drawing out her orgasm until she collapsed back against the pillows, trembling with aftershocks. Only then did he slowly withdraw his fingers, his cock throbbing painfully at the sight of them glistening with her arousal.

"That was..." Momo began, her voice breathless and shaky. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Pride swelled in Izuku's chest, alongside the desperate need still burning through his body. "Good?" he asked, a small smile curving his lips despite the ache in his groin.

"Beyond good," she assured him, her own lips curving into a smile that was both satisfied and hungry for more. "But I want..." Her eyes dropped to where his cock stood proudly erect between his thighs, the length of it intimidating even to his own eyes. "I want all of you."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat, his cock twitching visibly at her words. "Are you sure?" he asked, needing her to be certain. "We don't have to rush."

Momo's hand reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his shaft with newfound confidence. "I'm sure," she said, her voice steady despite the blush staining her cheeks. "I want you inside me. Now."

Her directness sent a jolt of pleasure through his body. Izuku moved between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance. The head of his cock brushed against her slick folds, drawing matching gasps from both of them.

"I'll go slow," he promised, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. "Tell me if it hurts."

Momo nodded, her eyes locked on his, trust and desire mingling in their dark depths. Her hands moved to his shoulders, fingers digging slightly into the muscled flesh there as she prepared herself.

With careful precision, Izuku began to press forward, the head of his cock stretching her entrance. The tight heat of her was almost unbearable, pleasure coursing through his body in waves that threatened to overwhelm his control. He watched her face carefully for any sign of discomfort, ready to stop at the slightest indication.

"More," she whispered, her hips rising slightly to take him deeper.

Izuku pushed forward, his cock sliding into her tight channel with agonizing slowness. The sensation was beyond anything he'd imagined—hot and wet and perfect, her walls gripping him like a silken vise. A groan escaped his lips as he fought for control, his body trembling with the effort not to thrust forward and bury himself completely.

When he was halfway inside, Momo's breath hitched, a small furrow appearing between her brows. Izuku froze immediately, concern overriding his pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with restraint. "We can stop."

"No," she said quickly, her hands tightening on his shoulders. "Don't stop. It's just... you're so big. I just need a moment."

Pride and concern warred in his chest at her words. He remained perfectly still, allowing her body time to adjust to his size. His thumb moved to her clit, circling the sensitive bud to help her relax, to bring back the pleasure.

"Oh," she breathed, her inner walls fluttering around his cock as pleasure began to override discomfort. "That helps. Keep doing that."

Izuku continued the gentle stimulation, watching as her expression shifted from concentration back to desire. When her hips began to move restlessly beneath him, seeking more, he took it as his cue to continue.

Inch by inch, he pressed deeper, her body gradually accepting his length until finally, finally, he was fully seated within her. Momo gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she looked down at her stomach. There, beneath her pale skin, the unmistakable outline of Izuku's cock created a visible bulge—a thick, prominent ridge stretching from below her navel toward her ribcage. The sight was impossible, obscene, and utterly arousing.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "I can... I can see you inside me."

With trembling fingers, she reached down, placing her palm against the bulge in her abdomen. The contact sent shockwaves of pleasure through both of them—Izuku groaning as he felt the pressure of her hand against his cock through the thin barrier of her skin and internal walls.

"I can feel you," she marveled, her fingers tracing the outline of his shaft through her stomach. "Every vein, every ridge." She pressed down slightly, her eyes darkening with desire as she watched Izuku's face contort with pleasure.

"Fuck," he gasped, the pressure of her hand creating an entirely new sensation—his cock trapped in the vise of her tight pussy while simultaneously being massaged through her abdomen. "That's... that's incredible."

Momo's fingers continued their exploration, pressing and prodding at different points along the visible bulge, experimenting with the reactions she could draw from him. When her thumb found a particularly sensitive spot near the head, Izuku's hips jerked involuntarily, driving his cock even deeper.

"Oh!" she cried out, her back arching at the sudden movement. The bulge in her stomach shifted visibly, pressing higher against her palm.

Her fingers wrapped around the outline as best they could, squeezing gently through her skin. The pressure made her inner walls clench around him, creating a feedback loop of pleasure that had them both gasping.

"Does it hurt?" Izuku asked, concern threading through his desire as he watched her stomach distend with his presence.

"No," Momo assured him, her voice breathless and eager. "It feels... full. Complete." Her fingers drummed lightly against the bulge, sending vibrations through his cock that made him groan. "Like you're reshaping me from the inside out."

The primal, possessive thought that accompanied her words made Izuku's cock throb violently inside her. The pulse was visible through her stomach, her hand feeling each powerful beat.

"Please, move," she whimpered, as she kept her palm pressed firmly against the bulge. "I want to watch you move inside me."

Izuku obeyed, drawing his hips back slowly, watching with fascination as the bulge in her stomach receded, following the withdrawal of his cock. Momo's fingers chased it, maintaining contact with the head through her skin.

"Now back in," she whispered, her eyes locked on the sight of her own stomach.

He thrust forward, more confident now, watching as his cock created a wave-like motion beneath her skin, the bulge traveling up her abdomen with his movement. Momo's hand followed it, pressing down to feel him slide beneath her palm.

"It's like I'm touching you directly," she marveled, her fingers dancing along the outline. "Like there's nothing between us at all."

Izuku groaned, the visual and physical sensations overwhelming him. The sight of his cock moving beneath her skin, reshaping her body from within, combined with the tight heat of her pussy and the external pressure of her hand, was almost too much to bear.

"Again," Momo begged, her voice breaking with desperate need as she kept her palm pressed firmly against the obscene bulge in her abdomen. "Harder this time."

Izuku groaned at her demand, momentarily overwhelmed. Her palm pressing against the outline of his cock through her stomach created a sensation he couldn't have imagined in his wildest fantasies—the pressure of her hand squeezing him through the thin barrier of her internal walls.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely recognizable—deep and rough, yet still . His eyes fixed on where his cock visibly distended her flat stomach, creating that impossible ridge beneath her pale skin.

"Yes," she gasped, her composure completely abandoned as she writhed beneath him. "Please, Izuku. I need to feel you reshape me."

Gripping her hips with scarred hands, Izuku pulled almost entirely out—watching with fascination as the bulge in her stomach receded—before slamming back in with enough force to make Momo cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh god!" she screamed, her back arching violently off the bed as his cock drove deeper than before, the visible bulge now pressing higher toward her ribcage. "Yes! Like that!"

Her palm slapped down against the moving ridge, feeling each vein and ridge as his cock plunged through her. The dual sensation—her tight pussy stretching around his girth while her hand traced his movement through her abdomen—drove Izuku to a new level of frenzy.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled, his hips establishing a punishing rhythm that made the bed frame creak in protest. Each thrust drove his cock deeper, the bulge in her stomach rising and falling with hypnotic regularity beneath her splayed fingers.

Momo's other hand moved to her breast, pinching and rolling her nipple as pleasure built to impossible heights within her. "I can feel you everywhere," she gasped, her eyes wide with wonder as she watched her own body accommodate his impossible size. "You're so deep... so big..."

Izuku's mind filed every detail of her response—the way her inner walls fluttered around him when he hit a particular spot, how her breath hitched when he changed the angle slightly, the precise pressure of her fingers against the outline of his cock that made them both see stars.

"Here?" he asked, adjusting his angle to drag the head of his cock against her front wall, making the bulge press more prominently against her palm.

"Yes!" she cried, her pussy clenching violently around him. "Right there! Don't stop!"

His pace increased, sweat dripping down his scarred chest as he drove into her with relentless precision. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by Momo's increasingly desperate cries and Izuku's deep, guttural groans.

"Jesus," he marveled, his voice thick with awe as he watched his cock reshape her from within.

Momo's eyes locked with his, dark with a need so raw it made his breath catch. "I feel you in my womb," she whispered, the confession sending a jolt of primal satisfaction through him. "You're so deep I can't—ah!—can't think straight."

Her words pushed him closer to the edge, his cock throbbing violently inside her. The pulse was visible through her stomach, her hand feeling each powerful beat.

"I'm close," he warned, his rhythm faltering slightly as pleasure built to an unbearable peak at the base of his spine. "Momo, I'm so close."

"Inside," she demanded. "I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to see it."

The permission unleashed something primal in him. Izuku's thrusts became harder, deeper, more desperate—each one driving his cock impossibly further into her willing body. The bulge in her stomach moved with increasing speed beneath her palm, her fingers pressing down to feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse.

"I'm—I'm coming too," Momo gasped, her inner walls beginning to clench rhythmically around his pistoning cock. "Izuku! Don't stop!"

Her orgasm hit with the force of a tidal wave, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through her body. Her pussy clamped down on his cock with vise-like pressure, milking him, demanding his release.

"Fuck!" Izuku roared, his control shattering completely as his own orgasm tore through him.

His cock pulsed violently inside her—a hot, wet impact that made her cry out in renewed pleasure. The second pulse was even stronger, his seed flooding her womb with such volume that the bulge in her stomach visibly expanded outward.

"Oh my god," she gasped, her eyes wide as she watched her abdomen distend further with each massive pulse of his cock. "I can feel you filling me up."

Izuku couldn't form words, lost in the most intense pleasure of his life as his cock continued to pump load after impossible load into her willing body. Each pulse stretched her further, her flat stomach now visibly rounded as his cum filled every available space inside her.

"So much," Momo whimpered, her hand now splayed across the growing swell of her belly. "There's so much of it."

The sight of her stomach bulging with his seed pushed Izuku into a secondary orgasm, his cock jerking violently as it released even more cum into her already flooded womb. The pressure built inside her, nowhere else to go, forcing her abdomen to expand further until she looked almost three months pregnant.

He groaned as he watched her body accommodate his release. His hips continued to thrust weakly, driving his seed deeper, ensuring every drop remained sealed inside her.

Momo's fingers traced the new curve of her belly with wonder, feeling the heat of his cum through her skin. "I can feel it sloshing," she whispered, her voice filled with awe as she pressed gently against the swell. A small amount of white leaked from where they were joined, unable to be contained despite how deeply he was buried.

Their eyes met over the new curve of her cum-swollen belly, both of them panting, sweaty, and utterly transformed by what they'd just experienced. Izuku's hand joined hers on the bulge, their fingers intertwining atop the physical evidence of their joining.

"That was..." Momo began, but words failed her for perhaps the first time in her articulate life.

"Yeah," Izuku agreed, understanding perfectly despite her lack of eloquence. His thumb traced small circles on the distended skin of her abdomen, feeling the heat of his own release through her body. "I've never... I didn't know it could be like that."

Momo shifted slightly beneath him, the movement causing his still-hard cock to press against new places inside her. A small moan escaped her lips, her oversensitized pussy clenching weakly around his length.

"Careful," he joked, his voice rough with renewed desire despite his recent release. "If you keep making sounds like that, I might not be able to control myself."

A slow, sensual smile spread across Momo's flushed face, her eyes darkening with mischief as she deliberately clenched her inner muscles around him. The pressure made his cock twitch inside her, which in turn made the bulge in her belly pulse visibly.

"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself," she whispered as she rolled her hips experimentally, feeling his massive length shift inside her. "Maybe I want to see how much bigger you can make me."

Izuku's cock responded immediately to her words, hardening fully once more despite his recent orgasm. The renewed pressure inside her pushed another trickle of cum past their joined bodies, the white fluid sliding down the curve of her ass to stain the sheets beneath them.

"You're playing with fire," he teased, his hips instinctively pressing forward, driving his cock impossibly deeper into her cum-filled channel.

Momo gasped at the movement, her hands flying to her distended belly as she felt him push against the new fullness inside her. "Then burn me," she challenged, her voice breathy but determined as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him in place. "I want to feel you lose control completely."

With a growl that sounded more animal than human, he began to move inside her once more, his cock dragging through the thick cum filling her womb. Each thrust created obscene squelching sounds as his seed was displaced, forced to find new spaces inside her already stretched body.

"Yes!" Momo cried, her hands gripping his forearms as pleasure built anew within her. "Yes, Izuku! Make me yours completely!"

His pace increased, his mind now entirely subsumed by instinct as he drove into her with renewed purpose. The bulge in her stomach shifted and moved with each thrust, the outline of his cock still visible through the cum-distended flesh.

"I'm going to fill you again," he groaned, his voice suffocated with intent as his hands moved to cup her breasts, thumbs circling her sensitive nipples.

Momo's eyes rolled back at his words, her pussy clenching around him with renewed vigor. "Please," she begged, her

composure completely abandoned in the face of such raw need. "I want all of it. Everything you have."

As Izuku's thrusts grew more powerful, more desperate, the cum already filling her womb sloshed audibly inside her, creating new sensations that had them both gasping. With each forward drive, more of his seed leaked past their joined bodies, evidence that she was already at capacity—yet he showed no signs of stopping.

"It feels like you're breeding me," she whispered, the words escaping before her filter could catch them.

"Fuck," Izuku hissed, his hips slamming forward with renewed vigor. "You can't say things like that."

But the damage was done. The image of Momo swollen with his child rather than just his seed sent Izuku's mind spiraling into a new realm of primal possession. His thrusts became harder, deeper, more purposeful—as though he truly was trying to impregnate her, to leave her permanently marked by him.

"I can… ah…" Momo challenged, her composure completely abandoned as she met each of his thrusts with equal force. "I can say whatever I want when you're reshaping my insides like this."

Her words pushed him closer to the edge, his cock throbbing violently inside her. The pulse was visible through her cum-distended stomach, a rhythmic expansion that made her gasp with each beat.

"You're going to make me cum again," he warned, his voice tight with restraint as his pace became erratic. "I don't know if you can take any more."

Momo's dark eyes flashed with determination, her hands moving to grip his forearms with surprising strength. "Try me," she demanded, her inner walls clenching around him with deliberate pressure. "Fill me until I burst."

The challenge in her voice, combined with the vice-like grip of her pussy around his cock, shattered the last of Izuku's control. He slammed into her one final time, burying himself so deeply that the head of his cock pressed against the entrance to her womb.

His cock pulsed violently, releasing another impossible flood of cum directly into her already filled womb. The pressure was immediate and visible—her stomach expanding outward with each massive spurt, the skin stretching to accommodate the new volume.

"Oh god," Momo gasped, her eyes wide as she watched her belly swell further. "So much... there's so much..."

The pressure inside her triggered her own orgasm, her pussy clamping down on his still-erupting cock with such force that Izuku saw stars. Her back arched off the bed, pressing her cum-swollen belly higher into the air as waves of pleasure crashed through her body.

"I can feel every pulse," she cried, her hands frantically moving across the taut skin of her distended abdomen. "Every drop... filling me up..."

Izuku couldn't look away from the obscene sight of her belly expanding with his seed, growing larger with each powerful contraction of his cock. The primal satisfaction of seeing her so thoroughly claimed, so completely filled with him, pushed his orgasm to new heights.

"Yours," Momo whimpered breathlessly, her own hands covering his atop the cum-filled dome of her stomach. "Completely yours."

As their shared orgasms finally began to subside, Izuku collapsed forward, careful to brace his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing her distended belly. Their foreheads pressed together, both of them panting as they struggled to process the intensity of what they'd just experienced.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice returning to its usual gentle concern as he searched her face for any sign of discomfort.

Momo laughed softly, the sound vibrating through both their bodies and making his still-hard cock twitch inside her. "I'm more than okay," she assured him, one hand moving to cup his cheek tenderly. "I'm perfect."

The warmth in her dark eyes made Izuku's heart swell with an emotion too powerful to name. Carefully, with movements gentle despite his still-raging desire, he shifted to lie beside her without withdrawing from her body. The maneuver required some adjustment due to her cum-swollen belly, but they managed to settle comfortably on their sides, his cock still buried deep inside her.

"I don't want to pull out yet," he admitted, his hand splaying protectively over the dome of her stomach. "I like seeing you like this."

Momo's cheeks flushed with pleased embarrassment, her own hand joining his atop her distended belly. "I like it too," she confessed, her voice soft with wonder. "Feeling so... full of you."

Their fingers intertwined atop the physical evidence of their passion, both of them marveling at the connection they'd forged. Izuku's thumb traced small circles on her stretched skin, feeling the warmth of his own seed through her body.

"I never imagined it could be like this," he whispered, his eyes meeting hers with naked vulnerability. "With anyone. With you."

Momo's free hand moved to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar beneath his eye with tender reverence. "I always hoped it would be," she admitted, her reserve momentarily abandoned in favor of raw honesty. "Ever since U.A., I've wondered what it would be like to be with you."

Izuku's eyes widened at her confession, his cock twitching inside her despite his recent release. "Really? Even back then?"

She nodded, a shy smile curving her lips. "You were always different from the others. So determined, so focused on helping people rather than glory." Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, exploring the features she'd admired for so long. "I used to watch you train and wonder what those strong hands would feel like on my body."

The image of young Momo secretly harboring desires for him made Izuku's heart race. "I noticed you too," he confessed, his voice rough with remembered longing. "How could I not? You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. So smart, so capable." His hand slid up from her belly to cup one full breast, thumb circling the sensitive nipple. "I used to feel guilty about the thoughts I had about you."

Momo arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. "What kind of thoughts?" she asked, her voice taking on that sultry quality that made his cock throb inside her.

"Filthy ones," Izuku admitted, emboldened by their shared vulnerability. "Especially after graduation. I'd imagine bending you over your workshop table, watching your face as you tried to maintain concentration while I fucked you from behind." His cock hardened fully at the confession, stretching her further despite the cum already filling her.

"Oh," Momo gasped, her pussy clenching around his renewed erection. "We should try that sometime. When my leg is healed."

The casual implication that this wasn't a one-time occurrence, that there would be future explorations of their desires, made Izuku's chest tighten with emotion. "I'd like that," he said, his voice thick with feeling. "I'd like that very much."

Their lips met in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened, tongues exploring with the same thoroughness their bodies had. Izuku's hand continued to knead her breast, drawing increasingly desperate sounds from Momo's throat.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Momo's eyes were dark with renewed desire despite the multiple orgasms she'd already experienced. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," she whispered, her hips rolling slightly against his, causing his still-buried cock to shift inside her cum-filled channel.

Izuku groaned at the movement, his own desire rekindling despite having cum twice already. "Good," he said, his voice dropping to that possessive register that made her pussy clench around him. "Because I'm not nearly done with you yet."

His hand slid down to cup the swell of her ass, pulling her closer against him despite the cum-swollen belly between them. The position drove his cock deeper, making them both gasp as the head pressed against her cervix once more.

"But first," he said, his voice softening as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, "let me take care of you."

With careful movements, he finally withdrew from her body, his cock sliding free with an obscene wet sound. A flood of thick white cum followed, gushing from her well-used pussy to soak the sheets beneath them. Despite the massive amount that escaped, her belly remained noticeably distended, evidence of just how much seed he'd pumped into her.

"I'll be right back," he promised, pressing another kiss to her lips before reluctantly leaving the bed.

Momo watched him move across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his scarred skin, the powerful thighs that had driven him so relentlessly into her body. His cock, still semi-hard despite two massive orgasms, swung heavily between his legs, glistening with the combined evidence of their passion.

When he returned moments later, he carried a warm, damp washcloth and a glass of water. The tenderness in his expression as he knelt beside the bed made her heart swell with an emotion too powerful to name.

"Drink," he instructed gently, helping her sit up slightly against the pillows. The movement caused more cum to leak from her well-used pussy, adding to the substantial wet spot beneath her.

Momo accepted the water gratefully, suddenly aware of how thirsty she was after their exertions. As she drank, Izuku gently cleaned her thighs with the warm cloth, his touches reverent despite the intimate nature of the act.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes fixed on where his seed continued to leak slowly from her swollen pussy lips.

The possessive note in his voice sent a shiver of pleasure down Momo's spine, her pussy clenching reflexively despite its oversensitivity. "I like being marked by you," she admitted, her reserve completely abandoned in the aftermath of their passion.

Izuku's winked at her words, his cock twitching with renewed interest despite having emptied itself twice already. "Careful," he teased, a playful growl in his voice. "Or the cleaning will have been for nothing."

Momo laughed, the sound turning into a soft moan as the washcloth gently swiped between her legs, cleaning away the evidence of their combined pleasure. "Would that be such a bad thing?" she teased, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

Before Izuku could respond, a sharp buzz interrupted them—Momo's phone vibrating on the nightstand where he'd placed it earlier. They both glanced at it, seeing Kyoka's name flashing on the screen.

"I should probably get that," Momo said reluctantly, reaching for the device. "She might be worried about me after the hospital."

Izuku nodded, continuing his gentle ministrations as Momo answered the call. The domesticity of the moment—him caring for her while she handled everyday responsibilities—felt surprisingly right, as though they'd been doing this dance for years rather than hours.

"Yes, I'm fine," Momo was saying into the phone, her voice remarkably composed given the circumstances. "Izuku's taking good care of me."

Her eyes met his over the phone, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as his hand gently caressed the still-swollen curve of her belly. The intimate touch, combined with the casual conversation happening simultaneously, created a delicious contrast that had Izuku's cock stirring once more.

"No, you don't need to come check on me," Momo continued, her free hand moving to cover Izuku's atop her cum-distended stomach. "I'm in very capable hands."

The double entendre made Izuku's cheeks flush, even as a surge of possessive pride filled his chest. As he finished cleaning her, his hand lingered on the inside of her thigh, thumb tracing small circles against the sensitive skin there.

"Yes, I'll keep you updated," Momo promised, her breath hitching slightly as Izuku's thumb moved higher, approaching the still-sensitive folds of her pussy. "I have to go now. Izuku's... helping me with something."

She hung up quickly, her dark eyes fixed on where Izuku's hand now rested mere centimeters from her swollen sex. "That wasn't very nice," she admonished, though the breathless quality of her voice belied any real irritation.

"I don't know what you mean," Izuku replied innocently, his thumb now tracing the outer edge of her pussy lips with feather-light touches. "I'm just helping you, like you said."

Momo's thighs parted slightly in invitation, her body responding to his touch despite the multiple orgasms she'd already experienced. "Is that what you call this?" she gasped as his thumb brushed over her still-sensitive clit. "Helping?"

Izuku's grinned. "Absolutely," he said, his voice dropping to that possessive register that made her pussy clench with need. "I'm helping you understand exactly what you've gotten yourself into by asking to stay with me."

His thumb circled her clit more deliberately now, drawing a soft moan from her lips. "And what's that?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as pleasure built once more in her oversensitive body.

Izuku leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered: "A week of being thoroughly, completely loved. In every way imaginable."

The promise in his voice, combined with the skilled movements of his thumb against her clit, sent a shudder of anticipation through Momo's body. Despite the soreness, despite the multiple orgasms she'd already experienced, despite the cum still visible in the slight swell of her belly—she wanted more.

"Promise?" she whispered, her dark eyes meeting his with challenge and desire.

Izuku's answering smile was both tender and predatory as he set aside the washcloth and moved to cover her body with his own once more, careful of her injured leg. His cock, impossibly hard again, pressed against her thigh as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that promised everything she'd asked for and more.

"Promise," he smiled against her lips, his hand sliding down to cup the curve of her ass, pulling her more firmly against him. "We're just getting started."

And as his cock pressed once more against her entrance, still slick and swollen from their previous rounds, Momo knew with absolute certainty that her recovery was going to be far more eventful than Dr. Shimizu could possibly have anticipated.