Episode 25: And Then Hiyori—

Hiyori’s cold fingertips crawled from my cheek down toward my throat.
My shoulders jumped.

“…You actually had quite a good time this past month, didn’t you.”

Her fingertips stilled near my collarbone, as though taking the measure of my heartbeat.

“That’s not — there’s no way I—”
“Then why is your body this hot?”

The deepest part of my chest ached, as though my foot had been caught in a bog.
No. That can’t be right.
I wanted to cry it out, but pinned beneath the shadow of Hiyori looming over me, all I could do was let out a hot, shaking breath.

“I had an amazing time.”
“…………”
“Hugging every day, kissing, spending time like secret friends — watching Maya being spoiled exactly the way I wanted her to be was so deeply satisfying.”

Hiyori’s thumb forced its way between my trembling lips, prising them apart.

“But I’ve realised something. …It’s still not enough after all.”
“Hiyo, ri…?”
“When Sasaki-chan walked in, I panicked a little. Less than two months left until Christmas Eve. I thought I had loads of time still — but if interference like that keeps coming… I can’t afford to just play around anymore.”

Hiyori’s finger traced along my lower lip, and her eyes narrowed into a slow, sticky, deeply sweet heat.

“And another thing. I think I was holding back on you unconsciously, hiding behind the ‘friends’ label, handling you too carefully.”
“Wh…”
“So — Yuri Friends is over. From today… Yuri Girlfriends, or I won’t be satisfied.”

Hiyori drew her finger from my lips and brought her own face close instead.
Breath mingling, zero distance.

“Yuri — Girlfriends—”
“Mm~?”

Just before Hiyori sealed my lips.
A whisper in a voice so damp with heat it seemed to scorch the inside of my eardrums.

“Everything I held back because we were just friends — I’m going to do all of it.”

The moment those words landed, my field of vision was swallowed entirely by Hiyori’s shadow.

Lips meeting lips.

But this wasn’t the sweet, surface-grazing kiss that had been repeated throughout a month of pretend.

“Mm — ngh — mh—”

Hiyori’s tongue forced its way in without asking, prising my teeth apart, pressing into the soft inner flesh of my mouth.
A slick, burning sensation.

I remembered.
This deep, suffocating, relentless kiss — it was the last time on the day that worst-imaginable video was taken.

The lips she’d been playing with because we were just friends.
But now those restraints had been stripped away entirely, and a violent heat was plundering every corner of my mouth.

My own saliva and Hiyori’s ran together, and wet, obscene sounds — chu, slick — rang loud at my ear.

“Ah — hh — Hiyo, ri — ha, mm—!”

I couldn’t breathe.

My lungs were hitching for oxygen, but Hiyori sucked my lips deep and licked her way thoroughly from under my tongue to the roof of my mouth, savouring every part.
I twisted trying to escape but my body was pinned to the wall and wouldn’t move, and both hands at either side of my head gripped my hair and held firm.

For one instant, the lips parted.

“Haah — haah — ah—”

A cloudy silver thread hung between our mouths, indecently connecting them.
The moment I opened my mouth wide trying to finally draw in fresh air, Hiyori’s wet eyes curved into a crescent.

“Continuing from that day. …Does it come back to you?”
“Mm—?!”

As if I could ever forget.

Without even a gap to breathe, my lips were sealed again — harder than before, more ravenous.
The tongue trying to retreat was seized and dragged from its root, sucked until the numbness spread through to the base.

“Mm — ah — ah — mmh—”

The deep interior of my head was shorting out, going white.
Every excuse of being the victim, every thread of discipline committee propriety, was being melted down into something liquid by the merciless work of her tongue.

Again and again.
Saliva spilling from the corner of my mouth unheeded, Hiyori went on consuming the inside of mine.
A torrent of breathless deep kisses, suffocating, no pause to surface.

“Ah — haah — ha — ah—”

Gasping for oxygen, mouth hanging open, breathing from my shoulders.
Through blurring vision, Hiyori traced my wet lips with her thumb and spoke in a voice saturated with heat.

“Hey. Your tongue.”
“…What?”
“Put out your tongue. …Now.”

It was a Yuri Girlfriends command.
Trembling, I parted my lips slowly and extended my tongue.

“…The tip of it, all wet and quivering like this.”

Hiyori’s fingertip traced the underside of my tongue.
A shiver shot the length of my spine.

Hiyori extended her own tongue and touched it to mine.
A faint, brief spark of moisture.
Just that, at first. A greeting of contact.
But the next moment—

Press.

The full flat surfaces of our tongues, pushed together over a wide, blunt area.
The grainy texture of it. The give of muscle.
Hiyori ground and rubbed against my tongue, crushing it beneath hers.

In the quiet room, a viscous wet sound rang out.

Sticking, unsticking, pressing together again — tongue against tongue like warm dough.
That monotonous, relentless motion wore my reason down steadily, piece by piece.

Hiyori drew her face slowly back, and between us a long transparent silver thread stretched and stretched.
The instant it snapped, Hiyori took my tongue deep into her mouth in one bite, all the way to the root.

“Mmgh — mmmh—!”

Hiyori, my tongue held inside her mouth, began moving her head rapidly back and forth.
Hollowing her cheeks, using the full depth of her throat to suck.
My tongue felt as though it might be wrenched from its root with the force of the pull.

With every deep draw of her throat, a viscous wet sound — slick, slick — obscenely reverberated right at my ear.

It hurt.
I could barely breathe.
And yet I was gripping the hem of Hiyori’s blazer tight in both fists, pathetically pressing my head forward into it.

The sound of my tongue being drawn on, right at my ear.
Hiyori’s silky hair swaying before my eyes.
The smell of musk and saliva filling the air.

“Mm — mmh—!”
“Ah — gh — Hiyo — rii—!”

Sucked to the absolute limit, the inside of my mouth was on the verge of overflow — Hiyori’s saliva trickling in from above, and my own pooling beneath.
The liquid — thick, mixed together — spilled over my jaw and ran down toward my throat.

Pop! With a crisp, satisfying sound, my tongue was finally released.
My jaw, held open so long, ached.
From the corner of my mouth, a long, loose thread of saliva hung down.

“…Ah — haah — ah—”
“Mm, what a waste, letting it spill like that.”

Hiyori brought her face to the corner of my mouth, gathered the fallen saliva with her tongue, and with a kiss poured it back in all at once.

“Mmgh — gulp—!”

I let my throat work and swallowed Hiyori’s taste itself down.

“…Phew.”

Hiyori exhaled with satisfaction and let her gaze slide down to my throat.
The fluid that had dripped from my jaw had carelessly soaked into the collar of my uniform.

“Oh dear. The uniform’s got dirty.”

Hiyori’s fingertips found the neatly knotted ribbon at my throat.
With unhurried ease they loosened it, and then, with light, bright sounds, the first button of my blouse came undone — the second—

“Hiyo, ri — what are you — doing—”

My unguarded collarbone, laid bare.
Hiyori gathered the saliva dripping from her own lips on her finger, and smeared it deliberately into the hollow of my collarbone.

“We’re Yuri Girlfriends now. …I need to leave proof here too — the kind anyone can see.”