It was Mika.
She stood in the middle of the room with her hands clasped behind her back, wearing a small, nervous smile.
Still dressed as Marin Kitagawa, she looked sweet, innocent, and perfect.
The fire burning in her eyes told a different story, though. There was something dangerous and delighted there that didn't match her innocent expression at all.
"I'm not as good at this as she is," she said, sounding a little breathless. "You'll have to tell me what to do."
She took a step closer. Her pleated skirt swished around her legs.
Makoto stuttered out something pathetic. "Umm, we can start slow, first. And you don't have to take it off if you don't feel comfortable."
His voice dropped to a low murmur as he started guiding her. "You can loosen the buttons, and you can pull up the skirt. And you can make some teasing poses to show off your body."
Mika learned terrifyingly fast. She followed his instructions with focused intensity.
Her body became a pliant canvas for his direction. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unbuttoned her blouse, revealing scandalous black lace lingerie underneath.
She hiked up her skirt. The movements started hesitantly, then grew more confident when she saw the look in his eyes.
She wasn't a natural performer like Yuna. She lacked that raw sexuality.
Instead, she had innocence. Vulnerability.
The sense that she was doing this just for him, trusting him with something precious and fragile.
In its own way, that was even hotter.
She struck a pose with her back to him, hands on the wall. Her back arched, creating a perfect heart-shaped curve in the tight lace.
She glanced over her shoulder with that small, nervous smile.
"Like this?" she whispered, her voice rough and broken.
Right then, he realized he was in so much trouble.
Because he didn't just want to fuck her. He wanted to cherish her. He wanted to corrupt her. Both desires pulled at him equally.
Makoto grinned slowly, like a predator. "Good. Now you can start removing your underwear."
"But you should keep the blouse and the skirt on. That would make it even hotter."
Mika's breath caught in an audible gasp that filled the quiet, sun-drenched room.
A deep blush spread from her neck to her cheeks, yet she didn't refuse. Through her pink-tinted lenses, her eyes went wide with a mixture of terror and giddy excitement.
"Okay," she whispered, barely audible.
Her hands shook as she reached behind her back, fumbling with the bra clasp. A soft click, and the straps went slack.
She shrugged her shoulders and let the black lace fall from under her blouse. It stayed on the floor where it landed.
Next, her hands went to the hem of her pleated skirt. She lifted it just enough, movements hesitant and shy. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her strappy black panties, she pushed them slowly down her thighs, over her knees, to her ankles.
She stepped out of them, leaving a small pile of black fabric on the floor.
Now she stood there in only the prim white school uniform blouse, the pleated plaid skirt, and the delicate black lace choker around her neck.
Nothing underneath.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at him.
"Is this what you wanted?" she asked, voice breaking with vulnerability and want.
"Good enough," he said, grinning as he came closer.
His phone's camera kept capturing her every move. "Now you can just repeat the poses you made earlier."
The camera flash created stark explosions of light in the dim living room, illuminating Mika in brilliant bursts. Each shutter click echoed through the charged silence.
Mika embodied beautiful contradictions. The prim pleated skirt and crisp white blouse suggested innocence, while the reality beneath was pure sin.
She moved with fragile grace, her eyes locked on his, seeking approval and direction.
"Like this?" Her voice came out rough as she leaned forward with her hands on her knees.
The unbuttoned blouse gaped open, revealing the soft curve of her bare breasts. Her nipples had hardened into tight points in the cool air.
His camera focused and captured the perfect shot.
"Good," he grunted thickly. "Now, you can turn around. With your hands on the wall."
She obeyed silently, crimson creeping up her neck. Her palms pressed flat against the wall.
She arched her back. The already short pleated skirt lifted.
It lifted enough to reveal everything.
Her bare ass formed a perfect pale heart shape against the dark plaid of her skirt. He could see the faint downy hair on her lower back, the delicate crease where her thighs met her cheeks.
Makoto licked his lips deliberately. "Perfect."
He moved closer, taking close-ups of her face, her nipples.
Then he blatantly lifted her skirt to photograph her ass and crotch. "It's hard to restrain myself from using that puffy, wet cunt of yours right now, Mika," he growled low and rough.
The cool air hitting her exposed pussy made Mika gasp. Her whole body went rigid.
A desperate, choked sound escaped as his phone's camera got impossibly close, the lens cold and unblinking.
Her pussy glistened with arousal, delicate and beautiful. The soft pink of her swollen inner lips showed wet and ready.
A single clear bead of love juice hung from her clit like a crystalline drop.
"Please..." The word came out broken. Her hands, flat against the wall moments ago, had curled into white-knuckled fists. "Don't just take pictures."
She turned to face him, eyes wide and pleading, her face showing pure need.
"Please," she repeated, voice stronger. "You can use me."
She stepped closer. Her pleated skirt swished around her bare thighs.
"You promised," she said hopefully. "You said that you'd fill me up."
Her hand found his crotch, fingers curling around his throbbing erection. "And I'm not waiting any longer."
Then, the bathroom door creaked open.