“I love you so much, Mitsuko-hime.”“Mitsuko,” whispered her lover. “You're my spouse. My wife.”Sayuri trembled. To call someone without an...honorific was either a deadly insult or a profound gesture of intimacy. She nodded her head. “I love you, Mitsuko.”“I love you, Sayuri.”The futa-ghost shivered, tears falling down on her lover's body as she kissed lower and lower. She stroked Mitsuko's stomach, nuzzling at her bellybutton. Her lover squirmed and moaned, tits bouncing. The scent of her tart. It didn’t matter how I came into contact with these men, online or offline, there were men desperately wanting to select what they need from my café. Some men just needed to eat it, some wanted to fist it, play with it, fuck it, cum in it or just look at it. In a few days, my life of boredom was spent using all of my free time with my legs open letting any man enter the café and use it.The most customers my café served at one time was when I went to a small town in Sweden, Dals Ed. There were. More

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