Yoshiko blinked, fidgeting with her hands. "Naoki? You're staying the night?"
"Sure looks like it. Unless I want to be inhaling paint fumes in my sleep." I replied. Her mother, Mrs. Aragaki, had been kind enough to let me stay next door at the house while my house was being painted. Having been neighbors for years, she trusted me well enough. And I was even familiar with Yoshiko; something that few people could do with how nervous the girl had always been.
"O-Oh, yeah." Yoshiko nodded and glanced down, nervously fidgeting with her hair. "I uh, I forgot."
"Well, it's no problem, I hope?" I said, hefting my bag.
She shook her head, her dark, messy locks bouncing slightly. "No, it's not." She looked up again, meeting my gaze from under her glasses, and then turned her eyes back to the carpet. "I-I mean if my mom said it was ok I can't stop her."
"So, is there a room for me?" I asked, "Or am I gonna have to crash on the couch?"
Yoshiko swallowed and shook her head. "Oh...no, my mom would kill me if I made you sleep on the couch." She said.
I smirked, "No doubt."
"The room's the back one on the second floor." She mumbled. "I-It's uh, it's kind of...ah..." Yoshiko began muttering again, turning her face away from mine.
"Hey it's fine, Yoshiko," I said, heading over to the stairs, "I'll just find it first." I started up the stairs, and she followed at a length behind, her gaze still downward. As soon as I opened the door, I could hear Yoshiko's hurried footsteps as she skittered to the door. Faster than I'd ever seen her move, she quickly ducked inside and shut it. I tried the knob again. Locked.
"Hey, come on," I knocked on the door, "What's the problem?"
Yoshiko's quivery voice came from behind the door. "Th-This is my room!"
I snorted. "Yoshiko, why would your mom tell me to stay in your room?"
"Th-The spare room is filled with stuff from cleaning!" Yoshiko sighed. "And my parents didn't want you in theirs. My room was the only one left."
"Oh," I said. I rocked back and forth on my heels for a moment, hesitating. "Well, can I come in?"
The door opened just a crack. Yoshiko poked only enough of her face into the doorway to where I could only see one tired, bespectacled eye. "I-I guess," she murmured.
I pushed open the door slowly, stepping across the threshold and into the dim room. I had only a second to notice the state of disaster the room was in—clothes strewn everywhere, books and papers littering the floor, blankets, and sheets haphazardly tossed across the bed—before the smell hit me. A heavy, musky odor emanated from Yoshiko's room, making my nose wrinkle. As Yoshiko passed in front of me, I noticed she smelled just as much and guessed she was wearing the same clothes from the day before or not showering. Either way, they reeked of stale sweat and heat.
"I'm really sorry, I haven't cleaned it in a while." Yoshiko rubbed her palms together, her eyes still cast downwards. "I-I mean, I should have. It probably stinks."
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. "Hey, it's fine. We've got time, don't worry about it."
"Really?" Yoshiko frowned. "You don't mind?"
"No, it's fine," I reassured her. Even if the smell was a bit powerful, it wasn't repulsive. And it was certainly better than paint fumes. I stepped over some of the scattered clothing to reach the bed and took a seat on the edge. Underneath the mess of bedclothes and laundry, the mattress seemed comfortable.
"Well, it's good you're comfortable," Yoshiko muttered and pulled back.
"Uh-huh," I nodded. I stared at her for a moment, noticing the shape of her body through her sweater. The fabric was strained and revealed the soft curves of her breast, as well as the slightly plump, round shape of her plush stomach. When she stretched her arms, raising her sweater, there was also the patch of dark, dense pubic hair peeking from the top of her waistband that I could just barely see for a moment. I shifted my eyes away from her body.
"So," I said, clearing my throat and gathering my focus. "You just want to talk or something?"
Yoshiko ran her fingers through her mousy mane, fidgeting with one unruly lock and tucking it behind her ear.
"Actually, yeah. I'd like to talk, I think." She bit her lip. "I, um... well..." Her cheeks turned bright red, and she shifted from foot to foot.
"Do you wanna sit or anything?" I suggested, motioning to the bed. Yoshiko scampered to the spot, plopping down on the mattress. She tried several times to make eye contact, but hastily dropped it each time, eventually electing to stare at her lap.
"Hey, Naoki?" She said, her voice just above a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"Do you, uh..." She trailed off into unintelligible mumbling.
"What?" I cocked my head, trying to catch her words this time.
"Do you want to..." Again, her voice devolved into muttering.
"Yoshiko, I really can't understand y—"
"Do you want to see my boobs?" Yoshiko blurted out. Almost immediately, I could see the regret form on her face before she quickly hid it in her hands.
I paused, trying to process what she'd just thrown at me. "That's... That's a bit forward. It's not that I'm not interested, but—"
"No, no, forget it," Yoshiko said, muffled by her hands, "I'm stupid, I'm a big dumb stupid perv. I'm sorry."
"Hey, I'm not mad, maybe just confused. Where is this coming from all of the sudden?" I said.
"I don't know, I just really want to... um..." She took a deep breath. "Want to be with someone. To do it, you know? I just thought you would be good." Yoshiko stared at me from beneath her glasses as she bit her lip. Blood rushed to her cheeks. Her breaths now came heavier, deeper. She inched closer to me, and her scent filled my head, the strong musk now almost intoxicating. I felt tension building in the base of my shaft, almost like a primal reaction to the smell of a woman in heat. I desperately tried to get myself under control.
I cleared my throat, still attempting to remain calm. "Look, Yoshiko. I like you. You're a nice girl, but this is moving pretty fast."
She smiled, looking relieved that I didn't seem angry, and her gaze shifted to the bed. I could see her breathing now becoming much more labored. "Don't be mad, it's just... I like you. I've been wanting to for a long time."
"Yoshiko, that's..." I couldn't believe this was even the same timid girl saying all this. Was this a side of her I'd never seen?
She sat up, looking at me earnestly. "Do you mind if I touch you? Just a little bit," She said, smiling awkwardly. I gave a reluctant nod. My eyes were drawn to her cleavage as she leaned forward, the drooping neck of her sweater exposing just enough. I felt a momentary urge to reach out and pull her closer, but I managed to fight it back. Maybe if I just gave her what she wanted, she'd be satisfied.
She slowly put her hands on my chest. I closed my eyes, letting out a breath. Yoshiko's hands were careful and delicate, but still had the clumsiness of an inexperienced girl. Slowly, she traced her fingers down the front of my shirt, down to my waistband. She stared intently at the bulge of my half-erect member under my pants, then looked up at me.
"I want to touch it," Yoshiko said, transfixed by the growing bulge in my pants. I bit my lip, trying to maintain my composure. She looked back down to my pants, her eyes moving between there and my face, as if she were waiting to see whether or not I was going to deny her. When I didn't protest, she gingerly reached a hand towards my crotch. She gently cupped it, rubbing her hand against the fabric, but more interested in what was under it.
"Wow..." she sighed, "I-I've never touched one before."