Repeater

The next morning you get up fairly early, the tension from last night largely having worked its way out of you. You head into the kitchen and grab some crackers from the pantry for a shitty, half-assed breakfast, stretching your legs a bit. Mariko is quietly eating some canteloupe and strawberries. She offers you a smile. "Morning, Nanashi," she says, with a small smile.

"Good morning, Mariko," you reply, offering her a smile of your own. She's a fairly muscular, attractive woman, and your teenage eyes can't help but run along her body. She doesn't seem to react. "Can I ask you something?" She nods. "How did you and dad meet?" You ask.

"Ah." She runs her fingers through her hair. "That's... hm. Quite a story," she says, popping a strawberry in her mouth. Oh God, he didn't do the rape dungeon thing to her, did he? "It was about sixteen years ago, I'd just gotten done with my second tour with the KSDF. I was..." she trails off, looking to the side. "I don't come from a rich family, like you or Kimiko. When you're poor, you do what you need to, ya know? I didn't want to serve in the KSDF for the rest of my life."

"Sure, sure," you say, urging her on.

"Well, I got some temp work as a hostess at one of them upscale restaurants, the ones that cater to business meetings, and..." she looks to the side, embarrassed. "I gave your dad my number. I gave a lot of guys my number. It was kind of company policy, make the guys feel like they could do anything they liked, so they came back. Sometimes you'd get a call, and you pretty much had to go. He calls me up one day, takes me on a real date after work, and before he left, he just... kissed me. It wasn't a tongue kiss, it was just this chaste little peck, but that was the moment I fell in love."

"Really? That doesn't seem like very much."

"Yeah. I mean, I'd had, you know." She coughs. "Guys I gave my number to call me up and make me go down on them. Back in the KSDF, lots of people fucked around, but it was just kind of meaningless stuff. But your father, he just talked, and listened, and he was so nice that I thought he was just distracting himself from work or something. And I didn't mind, because he really did listen, you know? Then the date was wrapping up, and he kissed me, and it was like a spark, like, 'oh, he isn't just using me to distract himself,' and... it was probably the best kiss of my life." She says that with a blush, then eats another strawberry so she doesn't have to say anything else right away.

"How romantic," you tell her. "Have you told my mom this story?"

"It's come up," she replies. "Kimiko is just..." she rolls her eyes up, trying to think of how to express it (politely). "She's just a really serious kind of woman, who thinks about everything in terms of cost and benefit. As far as she's concerned, I'm all cost and no benefit. Plus we really don't have the same priorities in life."

"How do you mean?"

She snorts. "Come on. You've seen your mother. She's all about up, up, up, ambitious to reach and scrabble herself and her family to the top. Me, I'm ambitious, sure. But this is my ambition," she says, with a gesture to the building. "Rich guy, a kid, fucked daily, don't have to work any more. Unimaginable to my younger self. Don't want to miss what I've got by wanting more."

"Speaking of my mother's ambition," you start. "My mother wants to set me up with a girl, but, well, I think she might be more interested in other women than in men," you explain. You actually don't know the word for lesbian here. Is there even one? "Any advice?"

"Mm, some girls are like that, especially at your age. I assume, since your mom wants to set you up with her, she's from... well, your kind of people?" You nod. "It doesn't really matter. She'll get married to some guy, and then wham bam thank you ma'am, her pupils will turn into hearts," Mariko says with a laugh. "Some girls like that don't, but if she's rich, yeah, she will. Just make sure you like her well enough, I guess. I don't really know how you get in a happy relationship, I got lucky with your dad."

"I'll keep what you said in mind with her." You pause. "I got yelled at about something by my mother yesterday, can I pick your brain about it?"

"Sure, hit me up," Mariko says.

You explain what happened with Terumi, and Mariko wears an increasingly concerned expression as you go down the series of events. "Why do you think a girl would do something like that, since it's apparently so bad?"

"We~ell," she strains out, obviously trying to avoid the subject of SCC. "It's... hm. I wouldn't think gold digger, for what it's worth. As a gold digger, I can tell you, that's fucking real stupid. You go home alone with some random rich guy, anything could happen." She chews on a bit of canteloupe, as she considers the behavior. "At that restaurant I used to work as a hostess, I knew a girl who was in a real bad head space for a while. She'd go home with guys pretty much constantly. She got lucky and nothing happened, but... yeah. That's probably a bigger red flag than her forearms being scarred."

"My sister said she saw her watching me back in elementary. Could it be that she decided it would be fine, even if she hadn't spoken to me before, on the basis of that?"

"...maybe," Mariko allows. "That still indicates a fucked up sense of priorities, though."

"Does she need help?" You ask, with concern.

"You can't fix every girl's problems, Nanashi, no matter how smart or rich you are. Least of all the ones that are just inside her head." Mariko sighs. "She'll probably grow out of it, in time."

"Why is it so bad though? I don't get it." You pause, pretending to think about it. "This has something to do with that 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am, her pupils will turn into hearts' thing, doesn't it?"

Mariko pinches the bridge of her nose. "Look. It's not something to talk about with boys your age."

"Why not?"

She frowns, glaring at you. "Do not ask further questions. I will not answer them. You will have it explained to you when you are older and have a girlfriend or wife." Her voice is hard, and you back down.

"Another girl in my class has some pretty bad bruises, and no one seems to comment on it. Should I do anything about that?"

"What did I just say about not everything being your problem?" She sighs. "You've got a big heart, and a big brain, Nanashi, but sometimes the former beats the latter. There are people unhappy every day, in every place. Trying to fix everybody is just going to make you unhappy too." She sighs again, even louder. "If you're the kind of guy who wants a girl he can 'fix', then I guess go for it, but Kimiko won't exactly be happy."

"Yeah, but, I mean - what about the teacher? The faculty?"

"What about them? Kids can have bruises from anything. I got a nasty shiner one time at the doctor's office when I walked right into a doorknob, doc thought my mom hit me. They can't do anything unless the girl complains, and even then, you don't know what's going on and neither do they."

"If no one wants to fix it, then the problem is still there."

"The world is full of problems, Nanashi," Mariko says. "Just find a decent spot in it and do your best for the people you care about. Don't make everyone's problem your own."

"Is there anything I should know, if I'm going to pursue Yuriko? I don't want to get into some horrible social faux pas because I don't know enough, apparently what I did with Terumi was pretty unacceptable."

"That it was unacceptable is on Terumi, not on you," Mariko says. She pauses. "Basically, don't invite girls over to your house unless you're really close." She rubs the bridge of her nose. "Just be careful. There aren't many girls who will do that kind of thing, so it's not like I have a list of risky behaviors. Think about... just think about things before making a move. You're young, and hormones are raging, but sex is important, and intimate, and something you should only do with somebody you're prepared to spend the rest of your life with."

"Okay. Thank you for the advice, Mariko-san. Mind if I steal a strawberry?"

"Go for it," she says, and you snap it up, biting down. Fuck, strawberries are delicious.

You prep for school, making sure you don't have anything missing from your pack, before setting off, Shiiro driving you to class. You slide into your seat early, with Amaya quietly reading some textbook and making a few notes. Other students start to file in; Masahiko, Shichiro, then Yuriko arrives. She glances over the room with what is obviously disappointment masquerading as imperious haughtiness, before settling into the seat next to you, primly crossing her legs and lacing her fingers together.

Her affected poise shatters the moment that Kiyomi arrives, and she just stares at the door, lust written all over her features. Kiyomi apparently sees the current composition of the classroom and decides to wait a while longer, stepping away. Yuriko audibly sighs in frustration.

"Distracting view, eh?" She gives you a sort of 'why are you talking to me' look. "Nanashi Kusakabe," you say, offering a hand.

"Yuriko Sakamoto," she replies, taking it in hers. Not really a handshake, more like placing her dainty, delicate fingers in the palm of your hand. "Yes, I suppose Kiyomi is quite distracting," she says, primly, flicking her hair back a bit to keep it out of her eyes. Said eyes keep flicking behind you at the slightest sound, as if she was a ravenous wolf and she knew there was a bunny just around the doorway.

"She's very attractive, I see you're not aiming low," you tease.

She stares behind you and runs her tongue over her upper lip, but when you turn around, whoever it was has already departed. "I deserve nothing less than the best," she says after she shakes her head clear of whatever lewd thoughts. "Besides, Kiyomi is the perfect girl."

"Oh?"

"Big tits, cool style, and she's an androphobe." Hm, she's more forthright about her lust for other women than you really expected, given the local culture. "The perfect woman to make all mine," she explains, lips cracking into a toothy smile. "I wouldn't recommend you try to steal her, she'd just knee you in the groin."

"I don't have any particular interest in stealing her. I've got my eye on another girl right now, also very beautiful."

"Oh? Who?" Yuriko tilts her head. "Ah, that Terumi, I assume. I'd warn you, I know some people who know her, she's ice cold."

"No, I wasn't thinking of Terumi," you tell her. "This beautiful girl I've got my eye on right now, her name is Yuriko." You give her your best smoldering gaze, and she looks taken aback for a moment, eyes blinking, cheeks turning red.

"A-ah, well," she stumbles. She swallows. "Um, thank you," she says, staring at your collarbone - until she flicks her head back up at the sight of movement, only to be disappointed when it's Raya rather than Kiyomi. "I really shouldn't pursue that sort of thing with a commoner, though, my parents would disapprove."

"I'm not a commoner," you tell her, succinctly.

She blinks. "Oh, you're one of those Kusakabes?" She keeps flicking her eye towards the door, a nervous tic born of obvious lesbian lust. "Ah, maybe, maybe." She sounds positively breathless, but whether it's because of interest or because Kiyomi has finally returned - shielding her face from Yuriko while Noriko walks alongside her - you couldn't say. "A~h, she's so cute and shy," Yuriko says, rubbing at her chin to quietly and secretly remove any drool. "Don't you just want to slurp her up?"

"I certainly wouldn't hate it," you tell her. "I take it you like your girls shy?"

"Mhm," Yuriko says, turning her attention away from Kiyomi for a bit. She shakes her head, clearing her thoughts again. Then she flushes vivid red as she seems to gain enough control of herself to realize how she's acting. Her back straightens up, and she toys with her hair briefly.

"I like my girls flustered," you tease, and her cheeks get even redder.

"Ah, I can, hm, certainly see that," she says, with the thin pretense of self-control now hiding away her obvious sexual desire. She waves her hand in her face. "It's quite hot, don't you think?"

"Something is hot here, but I don't think it's the air," you tease, and she blushes red again.

"Ah, ah, enough of that," she says. "You may have a silver tongue but I am a Sakamoto!" She halfway yells it out, loud enough that Amaya-sensei briefly looks up from her work. She coughs. "I think, that you are using far too much of your boyish charms on me." She raises her chin. "And I shall give you the dignity of such sharp reaction no longer. I was merely distracted by other things, rendering me vulnerable." There's a tinge to her voice of scarcely restrained lust as she stares straight forward at the front of the class.

"I see," you tell her. "Would you like to get something to drink after school? I'm worried you'll dehydrate, at this rate."

"Pfuh, fuh, what?" She says, incredibly flustered. "I am, how could you even, how rude!"

"I just meant with your drooling," you tease. "Why, what did you think I meant?"

She crosses her arms. "That's quite enough of your lewd talking."

"I didn't say anything lewd, if you think it's lewd, that's on you." She's very easy to tease, and it's quite fun, you have to admit.

"Is this the way the Kusakabe men always introduce themselves to the ladies of the Sakamoto?"

"Only the cute and very easily flustered ones," you tease. "Besides, I don't know enough about you to talk about other things. For example, I don't even know your hobbies."

She's eager to get off the subject. "I enjoy dancing, sketching, and poetry," she says, primly. "I'm also working on some dress concepts, and Kirito-san thinks they're quite good, even if they need refinement."

"You're a dancer? I am as well, what a lucky coincidence. I hope you'd be willing to show me your moves," you say, "dancing with a beautiful young lady is always a treat."

"Hm, perhaps," she says, with a little more poise now, pretending to be earnestly considering it, one finger pressed against her cheek as she looks at you closely.

You try to recall the Sakamoto family business. "Your family is in... clothing and food?" You try.

She nods. "Oh, yes, there's quite a bit more, but those are the two largest ones. My line tends to stick to the clothing bit, thus my interest in dress concepts." She says it in such a way it's obvious she's begging for you to look at her concepts and tell her they're good.

"Do you happen to have any on you? I'd love to take a look."

She almost immediately dives into her schoolbag, quickly retrieving a sketch book. "So, I had three basic designs," she explains, hurriedly. "Now, this is sort of a gauche variation on the pantsuit that a lot of Wesmeri girls are wearing nowadays, except it's turning the concept on its head entirely," she explains. The dress sort-of looks like a sleeveless blazer and dress combination, except that the blazer simply smoothly becomes the skirt, which doesn't reach the knees. It's got a plunging neckline, and buttons all the way down, which gives it a faint whiff of flasher clothes.

Her next concept is a rather plain, strapless white dress with an open back, apparently the real interest for her on this one is engineering, how to make it work without slipping or falling off. The last one is a green and purple sweater dress, with a cut out in the cleavage area, with a purple backdrop and vivid green... flowers? Crescents? Bananas? As its design.

"The variety in design is interesting. The first one is quite modern, and I'm very interested to see how the second one works. The third I'm not quite sure of... but I'd love to see you model any of them."

She blushes. "Ah, thank you. It's nice to know that some people know how to be thoughtful. None of the designs actually exist yet, though, Kirito-san has to approve of them and then they have to be made and so on."

"Well, if you ever want to bounce some of your ideas off me, I'd be happy to be a sounding board, even if I am just a layman."

"Thank you, Nanashi-san. You have certainly turned up your charm and down your endless teasing." Then the bell rings, and Amaya-sensei snaps to stand up.

For today, first two periods are just scholastics, then lunch is free break, then another scholastic class, then gym for the end of the day, with a good while to shower off before heading home (or to after school activities). You could join a club, either for one of your classics - kakutogi, fencing, or swimming - or perhaps try out a new hobby to get closer to a girl. That's a thought, but you'd need to know what activities the girls were actually in to pull it off...

In any case, you spend the first two periods studying what Amaya-sensei is teaching, except at a much, much higher grade level - college level stuff, pretty much. She doesn't offer much opportunity to speak, and Yuriko keeps staring over at Kiyomi and offering heartfelt sighs of longing before refocusing on Amaya-sensei.

Then comes lunch. People once again divide into social groupings, slightly different from last time.

You briefly consider speaking some more to Yuriko, but Kyoko slides her desk about to immediately start chatting up Yuriko, and despite the obviously abrasive nature of the girl, Yuriko seems quite willing to put up with it. Given the way she keeps glancing down at Kyoko's tits, you can take a pretty good guess why.

Instead, you find Reiko and Terumi exchanging hushed words, Reiko nodding quietly along with whatever Terumi is saying. You scoot over, and the conversation immediately dies. "Hm, he's handsome," Reiko says, licking her upper lip thoughtfully. "I'm going to be running for class president," she says, palming a piece of paper in such a way that Terumi doesn't notice it. "Hope I'll have your vote," she adds, handing you the piece of paper in the midst of a handshake.

"Sorry about yesterday, Nanashi-san," Terumi says, bowing her head. "I was much too forward, and I can see why my behavior caused your mother such distress. I offer my heartfelt apologies."

"Please, don't worry about it, Terumi. I appreciate the show of trust, even if I was not aware it could be inappropriate."

Terumi sighs in relief. Reiko quirks an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Still. If you enjoyed the lesson, I'd love to teach you more. We'd just need a different venue."

"Oh, that sounds very nice, Nanashi-san," Terumi says, smiling.

"I'm Nanashi," you say, offering your hand to Reiko. "I don't think we've actually been introduced."

"Ah, sorry," Reiko says, taking your hand. "I have a kind of funny way of making friends, but it works for me. Sometimes I forget the little things like that. I'm Reiko, I hope you'll take very good care of me," she says, with a small wink.

Terumi doesn't react at all to the little show of flirting, and you can't decide why. Did she not notice? Not care? Did she not care because she likes Reiko, or because she's vaguely suicidal, or what? "So, what do you do for fun, Reiko?" You ask.

She smiles. "Oh, a bit of this and that. Mm..." she runs her finger across her lower lip thoughtfully. "Honestly, I like studying. I know it's lame, but I enjoy that kind of regimented thing, the way you work and receive a reward promptly. Sometimes I like playing video games, but too many of them are trash nowadays."

"Really? Video games? Not quite what I would have expected."

"Oh, I'm full of surprises," she says, with a flick of her gaze towards your desk. "Terumi," she says, drawing the girl's attention to you, and she flicks you a little gesture that clearly says 'read the damn note now.'

You obediently look at it. It's not a note, it's actually a business card, with a... well, very lewd message printed on it.

"Thanks," Reiko says to Terumi, "promise, I won't disappoint you or betray your vote," Reiko says, smiling happily. "Gonna have to work extra hard to be class pres again," she adds, with a swing of one arm. "Think this is gonna be a real tough room, so having a vote in the bag is nice."

"Are either of you planning on joining any clubs?" You ask, curious.

"Oh, I was thinking of joining the cultural club," Terumi says. "Oh, that reminds me, did you find a copy of Tomoko?"

"Ah, no, sorry, I got a bit distracted after you left, I completely forgot."

"It's fine," Terumi says with a gentle smile. "I was just wondering. Are you joining any clubs, Reiko?"

"Mm, last school I was head of a club I started, but it was wa~y too much work. Are there any clubs where you just study?"

"That's called the go home club," Terumi says, with a little giggle.

"I'll start one of those, then," Reiko says, with a flourish, hand running through her pink hair. She looks over at you. "Any clubs you're planning on joining?"

"I dunno," you say. "I did swim, fencing, kakutogi, back at Kasahiro. Maybe I'll spread out a bit, try something new."

"Sounds like somebody's a jock," she teases. "Nah, nah, Terumi can't shut up about how smart you are," she says, and Terumi blushes, "I'm sure you're just a man of many talents. And handsome, too. Haha, I said that already, didn't I?"

"You're pretty cute yourself," you tease right back. "And so are you, Terumi." The girl flushes even brighter, and Reiko licks her lips a bit at the sight.

Lunch ends soon thereafter, then it's class, then the last period is gym. Apparently you're playing a game that's very similar to dodgeball, except the balls are substantially lighter and smaller, presumably so there's less risk of seriously braining one another.

The teams selected are Sumiko (Captain), Daichi, Masahiko, Chanette, Terumi, Kiyomi, Shichiro versus Shuichi (Captain), you, Kyoko, Reiko, Yuriko, Izanagi, Raya, Noriko.

You decide to go all in, challenge the clearly dominant player - Sumiko. She's muscular, cocky, and she's clearly a figure of some degree of respect at the school. You're not going to lose, and you're going to win in style.

You move like a serpent on the field, focusing your fire on Sumiko, and she responds in kind, wearing a vivacious grin as she and you trade throws, dodging and blocking with your own balls as the fight goes on. With the hailstorm the two of you are raining down on one another, the other players wind up avoiding you, letting your little duel play out on its own. When Masahiko tries to take advantage of your distraction to tag you out, you hurl a ball his way and out him in one throw. You're not going to fail this.

Eventually, even though it's exhausting, you wear Sumiko down. She's sweating, her clothes sticking to her body lewdly, and she pulls at the bottom of her shirt to try to get off the heat. That's the moment you take, the exposure and weakness of having only one hand free. She tries to dodge at the last second, but she can't quite, and she's outed. She gives you a long look, then smirks. "Good shot," she says, pulling up her shirt and yanking it off, leaving her in just a sports bra before heading to the showers. You get a very long and loving look at her muscular body as she goes off, and Shichiro tries to cheap shot you, but fails.

With their best player out, and you and Shuichi still in the game, your team winds up dominating the other. You're a sweaty mess by the end of things, and both teams filter into their gendered showers. "Hey, nice work beating Sumiko," Shuichi says, with a genuine smile. "Normally nobody can beat her alone." The fact that he's naked causes you only marginal discomfort. Your body in this life is quite fit, even if you're more the slender kind of muscular than Shuichi.

"Thank you," you say, not really knowing what else to. He claps your back and goes to get dressed.

You recall that you have an appointment with a certain class president candidate to get to, as you pull back on your clothes. You briskly stride up the staircase, headed towards the fourth floor, finding the appropriate room. You take a deep breath and open it, stepping inside.

"Hey, you were pretty impressive in that game," Reiko says, startling you as she was apparently standing right behind the door. "I'm definitely going to be thinking about you, drenched in sweat, standing triumphant over Sumiko," she says, licking her upper lip. Her hand goes to the door, which she locks. "Rules are simple. Mouth only. No recordings. If you fail to abide by these rules, or otherwise act like a dickhead, there won't be a round two. Otherwise, we'll have lots of fun together," she says, with a smile. "You got a phone?" You nod. "Hand it over, you get it back when we're done." She puts her hand out.

You take out your phone, power it off, and show her as much, then set it down on a table to one side. "Sorry, just don't want to risk you doing something with my phone."

"That's fine, that's fine," she agrees. "First times are always the tensest, and I'm spoiling for a go round, not taking any offense." She runs her tongue over her upper lip. "Right. We could go with you standing, though I'd recommend you put your hands on a desk so when your knees get all wriggly you can stay standing up. Seated's easier. I'd be good to do lying down, but this isn't the best place for it." She tugs at the collar of her shirt, in a way you're not sure if it's innocent or intended to draw attention to her modest bust. "I'm good to go however, I like making sure the guy's enjoying himself too."

You grab a chair and spin it around so you can be seated, and she descends to her knees in front of you. You surprise her, however, by removing your shirt, making her run her tongue tantalizingly along her upper lip as she watches your muscular body come into view. Then you pull down your pants and take your seat, your hard cock pointed straight up to the ceiling.

She waddles forward, her modest bust swaying a bit as she does, beneath her shirt, and she smiles up at you as her hand wraps around your cock. "Ready, handsome?" You nod, and she kisses the tip. It's tender, loving, with her soft, pale, wet lips gently playing against your slit. Her tongue gingerly slithers about, almost completely hidden within her mouth, giving a faint, teasing sensation to the edges of yor cockhead. You reach down for her head, running your figers through her hair, and then she slams her face down your cock, moaning as she does, hazel eyes rolled up in delirious pleasure as she looks up at you.

Her nostrils press against your groin, and she moans, drooling wantonly as your balls slap against her chin, her whole body twisting and writhing in pleasure and need. "Fuck," you hiss, struggling to hold back, concentrating. In this life, you may be a virgin teenage boy, but you have decades of sexual experience. "You can touch me, if you like," you say, and she hums and nods, hands running up to your stomach, gently running along your smooth, muscular body. One of your own hands reaches down for her tits, gently squeezing it through her shirt, and she orgasms beneath you, audibly moaning as her eyes roll up while she takes your dick.

She just holds herself down there, her throat constricting around your cock, her nostrils flaring as she tries to breath while deepthroating you, and she finally pulls off as she finishes orgasming. A sticky string of drool splatters down as she does, plentiful saliva coating the underside of your cock and splashing onto the floor and the front of her shirt. Her expression is drunken, and one of her hands grasps the wrist of the one that currently has her tit. "Harder," she demands, asks, orders, and you do so, groping the flesh of it. She bites her lower lip, sweetly humming, then returns to sucking dick.

Her fellatio is intense and passionate, and you groan in pleasure, fingers digging into her pink hair and the flesh of her tit. She moans, hums, writhes and drools, eyelids fluttering, mouth sucking and slurping, her hazel eyes staring up at you. You can feel, as she twists her head this way and that, tongue slithering along the base of your cock. She loves your fucking taste, and she comes at least once more like that, head buried in your crotch, nostrils flaring as she deliriously worships your cock.

You have to retake control, though, so you yank her off your dick by the hair as she recovers from an orgasm, and she stares up at you, mouth wide open, tongue flicking up and down in a way that says nothing so much as "rape my throat." Instead, you use a sex technique you read about online - you bring your other hand up from her breast, to her tongue, sliding your fingers in. She moans as you do, as you gently tease and pinch and play with her tongue, and she stretches it out, inviting yet more of such play, of you teasing her tongue like it was her clit.

As you stroke it, prod it, play with it, she drools, plentifully, saliva coating her chin, and she loves every fucking second of it. You run your thumb along her tongue and she shivers; you pinch the tip between your pointer and thumb and she moans; you slide your fingers slowly down the middle, and she slurps at them, cheeks hollowing. The sensation is incredibly erotic, to know that for her, right now, her drool is like girlcum and her tongue is like a clit. It also gives you the chance to recover a bit, and you finally guide her back down onto your cock. She moans as she slides slowly down to the base, orgasming on her arrival, hands tightly grasping your thighs for dear life. You slip one of your own hands into her shirt, finding her pert nipple and twisting and tweaking it, making her groan.

You dance like that, controlling the pace to extend your endurance, playing with her body, teasing her. Her body is different from those of women back home. Her throat is warmer, her saliva more plentiful, and every point of sensitivity is stronger, as well as some new ones. Her breasts are modest, by this world's standards, but pretty good by your own, nice apples on her chest. She orgasms repeatedly, to the point that a small puddle forms on the floor between her thighs, a little pool of her juices where they splash through her panties and leak out of leggings that are so wet they can't take any more.

At some point, you take control away entirely, just relentlessly fucking her face, and she moans like it was her cunt and she'd been waiting all day for your cock. Your balls slap against her chin, loud and wet as her drool splashes about, her eyelids turned up to the ceiling, her little gurgles and pants adding to the already intense sensations. Her hands are on your thighs, silently massaging your muscles there, urging you on as she comes over and over again, your fingers threading through her pink hair to use it like reins.

Finally, you slam her down into your groin and let go. Her eyes stare up at you, a happy, slightly smug expression visible in them, as you release your load deep down her throat. You pull her slowly off, timing it so that you spurt several loads into her waiting mouth, and she moans at that, too, eyelashes fluttering as she swills your cum on her tongue, obviously loving the taste. When you're finished, she pops off, breathing heavily, showing you her pink tongue dyed white with your thick semen.

You gently pat her head, running your fingers through her hair. "Given how you look, I'm not sure which of us enjoyed this more," you say, craning your head back in your sat for a moment and letting out a long sigh. Then you look down at her and smile - she's still swilling your cum on her tongue. "Glad it wasn't just me having fun."

She swallows, nodding. "Yeah. You were really good. Was that your first blowjob? Because you really know your stuff."

"Guess I'm talented," you tell her. "Can I have your number?"

She glances over at your phone, where it rests on the table, then at your naked body, then at her drool and girlcum splattered clothes. "Uh..."

"I can remember it. Just tell it to me."

"Okay. It's..." she gives you her phone number - (647)-32233-825. They're eleven digits here, instead of 10. She stumbles to her legs, a little wonky. "It may be a while before I'm good for another go," she says, a certain breathlessness to her voice. "New school, have to find some cocks to suck, besides just yours. No offense," she adds, licking her lips, "yours is definitely the best I've sucked."

You surprise her by taking her hand and halfway yanking her into your lap, making her squeak in surprise. She's small, compared to you - you tower a good head over her, but in your lap, her legs draped across your naked thighs like this, the height difference vanishes. You stroke her hair. "You should wait until your legs are steady," you tell her. "And you are definitely the best blowjob I've ever had."

She takes a moment of stiffness, but when she realizes you're not trying something weird, she gingerly leans against you, resting her head on your shoulder. Her hand runs along your chest, and you can feel her soft breath on your neck. "You're naked," she says, quietly.

"Technically my socks are still on."

She snorts. "You know what I mean. It's different," she sighs. "I like it. Like I'm not the only one risking something, or being vulnerable, or whatever. Mm. It's tempting, but I think it's probably too much trouble every time. Still. You're good at receiving fellatio. Number one of a sample of twenty-eight."

"Speaking of receiving," you tell her. "You said mouth only, but did you mean your mouth or anybody's? Because there are certain parts of you I'd really like to kiss."

She blushes at that. "Tempting, but I'm going to have to say no. I try to keep it to one thing, it helps, you know? Less risk of... weirdness."

"If you want to try it next time," you tell her, fingers gently running along her neck. "I'd be more than happy to."

"Nah," she says, with barely any hesitation. "Fellatio's my speed, and I'm sticking to it."

"Do you know Terumi well?"

"Not super well, why?" She asks, leaning up. "You interested in her?" Back on Earth, that question would be jealous, but here, she's just trying to establish context.

"Sort of. Her behavior's a little odd, I'm trying to put it in a context."

"Hm." She thinks about it a bit. "No, I don't really know anything but the obvious. I can ask around a bit, see if anybody knows anything? I know a lot of guys who go to this school - they went to my last one too. They'd totally be willing to help a friend of a friend out."

"Nah, I don't want to cause any trouble for her, I'm just curious. Thank you for the offer, though." She nuzzles your neck sweetly, a bit of her drool pressing against your chest where her shirt does. "Why are you running for class president? Do you have plans for the position, or is it more CV padding?"

She pulls back. "Well, mostly CV padding, yeah. I did a good job of it at my last school, always got more than half the votes, and I figured I could pull the same here. Probably going to be a little harder but I'm a workaholic, so it's fine."

"Tell me about yourself. I can't help but feel a little interested in the girl who gave such an amazing blowjob. What's your family like? Friends?"

"Dad's a salaryman, mom works at the same company. Got a little brother, about nine years old, and a big one. As for friends, well," her fingers run along your collarbone absently, "mostly guys like you, to be honest. But it's fine. I like where I am. I've got good grades, I get to have some real fun times with sexy guys, and everybody thinks of me as the perfect little student. Anyway," she hops off your lap, brushing off her skirt. "You don't have to vote for me for class president or anything. I just like sucking cock and you've got a nice one. I'd appreciate your vote, though."

"Unless somebody really good for the job puts themselves forward," you say, standing up from your seat and pulling back up your pants, "you can count on my vote. I mean, making a business card for asking for anonymous sex? And customized, unless you're cheating on the numbers."

She blushes. "Hah. Yeah. It was... a funny thought. I keep one in case there's a cute guy, basically."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you say, as you gather up your shirt and pull it on. "Hey, since class is over for the day, want to hit up an arcade or something?"

"Mm..." she looks obviously tempted, then looks down at her clothes, which currently have large wet splotches from drool and girlcum. "I think I kind of need to get changed. Maybe another day?"

"Sure," you say, and she unlocks the door and leaves. You collect your phone, and try to remember her eleven digit phone number.

You do, fortunately, and slide your phone into your pocket, a fresh phone number within it.

You decide to check out the school facilities, looking for the kakutogi and fencing clubs. They seem to be pretty well equipped, decent for if you wanted to practice those skills. Shuichi and Sumiko are in the fencing club (slashing bracket), and Daichi is in kakutogi. Otherwise they're made up of people you don't know.

You take a glance at swim as well; apparently Kyoko is interested in the swim team. She didn't seem to actually be on it, but she was talking to the club members about joining, and what she'd need, and that kind of thing.

Trying to track through all the damned extracurriculars to find all your classmates is too much of a pain, especially given plenty of them probably haven't picked anything out. You do spot something surprising - Masahiko with some girl, groping her in the hall as she blushes and fidgets, before he finally guides her into an empty room. You weren't under the impression he had a girlfriend. In fact, given the way you've overheard various students (particularly girls) talk about him, you're pretty sure he doesn't. The squeaky noises that soon emerge from that room give no ambiguity as to what he's doing, and you skedaddle before he catches you.

Shiiro is rather annoyed when you finally emerge from the building to get in, but he doesn't say anything. "Sorry for being late, was checking out clubs," you explain, getting into the car. He makes some quiet huff and drives you home in silence.

Then you get home.

You decide to head into the family library, and are glad to find that you do, in fact, own The Tragedy of Tomoko Sakamoto, including the Ren Yamasaki modernization. You pop off the first volume, head to your room, and curl up in bed to read.

The story spends a large amount of time focused on the minutiae of the protagonist's life before she becomes outcast. Her family relationships, her position as a decent, but not excelling, swordhand, a possible political marriage. You wonder if it's meant to establish context, or if the author didn't know where he was going with it. Then comes the betrayal, and it's so well executed you almost clap.

Even though you knew it was coming, the author wove together various minor threads in an elegant and coherent fashion. It didn't just rely on the identity of the traitor, but how they did it, playing on Tomoko's personality flaws. Of which she has a startling large amount. It's something you hadn't noticed, with your relatively small media consumption, but authors here are much, much more willing to portray women as cruel, wicked, petty, vindictive, and not just in some gendered way, but as an expression of that character's individual shittiness.

You don't quite manage to complete the first volume, so you're at around the part where she's halfway dead of dysentery, presumably before her meet cute, before your eyes grow too heavy to keep going and you fall asleep.