With a heavy sigh, I unlocked the door to my apartment and let myself in, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. In contrast to the dark, cold night outside my apartment complex, the inside felt warm and cozy, the fond familiarity of it seeming to make some of the tension bleed from my shoulders as I stepped into the foyer. The smell of home cooking — nikujaga, probably, judging by the scent of beef and potatoes wafting through the air — filled my nostrils, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.
After a moment, someone poked their head through the kitchen doorway — my wife, Masako, who grinned brightly at seeing I'd returned from work for the day, though there was a sympathetic warmth in her blue eyes when she saw how exhausted I looked. "Hey," she said softly, stepping out into the entrance hallway of our apartment to greet me properly. In the cozy warmth of our home, she wore a short silk yukata, which clung tightly around her hips while revealing just enough skin that it still managed to be tasteful rather than indecent. Her long black hair hung in loose, thick waves that framed her face like an elegant veil, and her pale skin glowed slightly under the warm golden light cast by the ceiling lamp above us. Atop her head were a pair of fox ears, with soft tufts of snowy-white fur that contrasted with her black hair, which betrayed her true nature as a kitsune, a shape-shifting fox spirit from Japanese folklore. Behind her, nine fluffy tails swayed gently, their lengths all white except for golden fur at their tips.
"Hi yourself," I replied, smiling tiredly back at her, "How's your day been?"
Masako shrugged lightly, the gesture making her breasts jiggle subtly beneath her thin cotton kimono. "Nothing too special — did some shopping for the house, made dinner, tidied up. How about yours? Did anything interesting happen today?"
I shook my head, shrugging off my jacket and hanging it up on the coatrack by the door. "Boss was a prick today, same as he always is," I sighed, walking into the dining room and dropping down onto one of the chairs before our table.
Masako nodded sympathetically, sitting on the chair next to mine, her tails almost daintily fanning out behind her in a graceful arc. She reached over, cupping my cheek, her delicate fingers softly stroking my skin, and I couldn't help but lean into her comforting touch. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head, sighing heavily. "Nah, I'd rather leave work at work, you know?" Then, I reached up and took her hand in mine, pressing a kiss against her knuckles and giving her a playful smile. "Besides, with such a lovely wife at home, I've got much better things to think about than work," I purred, low and rich.
A few of her fox tails fluffed up behind her in embarrassment, and she blushed a deep pink, fruitlessly trying to hide it behind her hands. "S—stop, you're making me all flustered," she chided, batting at me, though the smile half-hidden behind her hands made it clear she was only teasing. "Now hush up and eat dinner, before it gets cold."
"Yes, dear," I chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek before standing and heading over to the stove. I picked up the nikujaga pot from where it sat on the stovetop, lifting the lid and inhaling deeply, savoring the aroma of the stew, rich with beef and homemade dashi — Masako took pride in preparing everything herself, and her cooking was always masterful enough to set any professional chef ablaze with envy. Ladling out some of the hearty stew into two bowls, I headed back to the table, setting one down in front of Masako and taking the other for myself.
As we ate, we chattered idly about nothing in particular, the sort of familiar conversation that comes easily to those who know each other like the back of their own hands. Occasionally, she'd reach out to touch me, or one of her nine fluffy tails would brush against my leg, and I'd give her hand a fond little squeeze in return.
After the dishes had been cleared, my wife took my hand in hers, smiling down at me in that warm way that held playful promise to it. "Come on, sweetie," she cooed, leading me towards the bedroom, "You look like you need some stress relief."
My heart skipped a beat as Masako led me into the bedroom, and I found myself unable to resist her siren song as she pulled me down onto the bed with her. The kitsune's touch was chaste but loving, shifting me until my head rested on her soft lap, our line of sight broken only by the curve of her bust. Her nine fluffy tails fanned out behind her, a few of them curling to brush up against my cheek or my torso, while some simply swayed idly around her, in tune with the steady rhythm of her breathing.
She ran her fingers through my hair, slow and soothing, and I closed my eyes, relaxing into the sensation of her chaste, affectionate caresses. With every pass of her hands, it felt as if the remaining stresses of the day simply fell away, like drops of rain trickling down the surface of a leaf, leaving me feeling refreshed and relaxed beneath my kitsune wife's loving ministrations. Her fingertips traced along my scalp, the deft touches of her delicate fingers making me let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. Idly, I reached out to pet one of her fluffy fox tails, stroking the golden fur at its tip, and then a bit further up to the snowy-white fur along the rest of its length. The fur of her tail was soft beneath my fingertips, like fine velvet, and the sensation of my touch made Masako shiver in pleasure in turn.