Chapter 170

Hojo Maki’s beauty is different from that of a young girl. Her white, thin blouse is pushed up high at the chest, outlining her voluptuous curves, and below her knee-length skirt are a pair of long, beautiful legs wrapped in opaque black stockings.

Logically, this outfit should appear dignified and capable, but on Hojo Maki, it looks damp.

It has a unique moisture that comes from a mature wife, like a ripe peach; a gentle touch is enough to wet your hand.

She held a wine glass in her hand, the crystal-clear liquid adding to her allure.

”Is it because…