Lady Isolde finished whisking the matcha to a perfect, frothy consistency and gently set the chasen beside the bowl.
With timeless elegance she lifted the wide bowl to her crimson lips and drank slowly. A thin, vibrant green stream escaped the corner of her mouth, gliding down her chin before sliding over the lush swell of her exposed breast and coming to rest on her stiff, dark nipple, making the sensitive peak glisten under the soft light.
I swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.
She set the empty bowl down with refined grace, still holding a generous mouthful of warm matcha. Her silver-grey eyes sparked with playful, seductive invitation as she beckoned me closer with one delicate finger.
With half-lidded eyes I leaned in.
"Oh, Grandmother…"
Our lips met in a slow, deep kiss. She wrapped her arms around my waist as I held her, palms resting gently on the silk that covered her curves. Then she parted her lips just enough to let the warm, frothy matcha flow from her mouth into mine.
I drank greedily at first—until she stroked the back of my head with tender affection, silently urging me to slow down and savor it. Obeying, I drank more carefully, almost worshipfully. The rich matcha mixed with her sweet saliva tasted impossibly good—warmer, softer, and more intoxicating than anything I could remember from either life.
"Hmm… yes, Grandmother… feed me just like this," I murmured against her lips.
My cock throbbed hard inside the luxurious robe, twitching and leaking thick strings of precum that soaked through the fine silk.
A few minutes later we slowly parted. I drew in a shaky breath.
Lady Isolde smiled with tender affection and caressed my chest in slow, soothing strokes.
"There, there… breathe slowly, my sweet boy," she murmured. "Calm your heart for Grandmother."
I nodded, still dazed.
She gracefully crossed her legs and patted her thigh invitingly.
"Come, son. Rest your head in Grandmother's lap for a minute."
I obeyed, leaning forward until my cheek rested on the warm, pillowy softness of her thighs. The silk felt like heaven against my skin.
She gently pulled open the front of her dark kimono-style robe, fully exposing one heavy, bare breast. In a husky, velvet voice she whispered,
"There… drink the remaining matcha, my son."
I nodded. My hand rose to cup the soft, massive weight of it—plush and yielding, the skin impossibly smooth. I opened my mouth and latched onto her dark, stiff nipple. It was firm yet wonderfully supple against my tongue, already slick and sweet with the last traces of matcha.
The moment I began to suck, a rich, creamy warmth mixed with the faint taste of her skin and the lingering green tea.
While I nursed, she reached down, slipped her elegant hand inside my robe, and drew out my throbbing cock. It was already leaking.
She began to stroke me gently—her warm, soft palm gliding up and down the full length, slick with my own arousal. Every slow, loving stroke sent pleasure rolling through me. Her fingers teased the sensitive head while her thumb circled the swollen tip, spreading the wetness until my cock pulsed helplessly in her grip.
The quiet room filled with the soft, wet sounds of my sucking and the quiet, rhythmic glide of her hand.
Between soft pulls I asked,
"Grandmother… why do you need the Astral Bloomwood so badly?"
Lady Isolde smiled down at me with indulgent affection.
"Oh, it's nothing special, my sweet boy. My friends are gathering this weekend for a private tea ceremony, and I simply want to show off a rare tea pet in front of them. I want to see their jealous little faces."
I nodded, still latched to her nipple, then deliberately guided the rhythm of her hand. The moment she matched me, a low moan escaped my throat.
"Grandmother… it feels so good… yes, that's the perfect rhythm… keep going…"
A few blissful minutes passed—the wet sounds of my greedy sucking mixed with the soft, slick rhythm of her hand.
The pleasure built until it became unbearable.
"Grandmother… ah— I'm coming…"
The orgasm hit hard.
Every muscle locked as white-hot pleasure exploded from the base of my spine. My cock pulsed in heavy, rhythmic surges, thick ropes coating her elegant hand, streaking across the silk of my robe, and landing on my own chest. My hips bucked helplessly into her grip. A broken groan tore from my throat as the waves rolled through me, leaving my vision briefly white and my body trembling.
When it finally eased, all I wanted was to close my eyes and drift.
Lady Isolde gently eased me down onto the soft floor, cradling my head like something precious. She rose with quiet grace, adjusted her kimono until every fold was perfect once more, and smiled tenderly.
"See you tomorrow, my boy."
I nodded, already half-asleep, body still twitching with residual pleasure.
As she walked toward the door, I heard the soft, unmistakable sound of her licking the last of me from her fingers, savoring it with quiet, satisfied little breaths.
A lazy, thoroughly contented smile spread across my lips before I slipped into a short, deep nap.