Episode Sixty-Three

It was immediately after unlocking the front door and closing it.

“Mmm…”

She pressed her lips against mine, clinging to me.
Neither of us had even taken off our shoes yet.

“Reru, chu, am…”

A forceful, yet earnest kiss.
Lips carrying the scent of cherry blossoms devoured mine.
　A small but deft tongue flicked and teased my upper palate and inner cheeks, freely drawing pleasure from my mouth.

“Chu, mmm, re-ru.”

Pulling my tongue back was pointless. It touched mine anyway. There was nowhere to escape.
In an instant, I was captured, entangled, sucked, rubbed against.
　A tingling heat spread from the small of my back, radiating through my entire body.
Like droplets falling onto water, the heat rippled across my whole being.

“Mmm…”

Her thorny hand touched my side.
Her fingertips traced the curve of my waist, stroking upwards as if checking the shape of my ribs.
Wait.
　Wait, hold on, don’t go any further.
Before I could even stop her, she touched me.
Her fingers dug in, lifting me up.
Even through the knit jumper and bra, I could feel the sensation of her fingertips.
My face burned with shame. My cheeks were hot. My ears were hot.
Yet, neither her tongue nor her fingers stopped moving, teasingly.

“Pff, no, Ibara, stop it.”

“Why? You let me touch you before.”

“Before was before, now is now!”

“You don’t like me touching you? Does it feel unpleasant?”

“It’s not that. I mean, stop moving your fingers while we’re talking!”

“If you don’t dislike it, then why?”

Why, you ask. That’s obvious.
Because I don’t dislike it. Because I can’t refuse.
　Because it feels so good I can’t help but moan, so it’s no good.
──There’s no way I could say that!

“Anyway, I said it’s no good…”

“Shigure-san, you’re always like this.”

“Oi, I’ll get angry. No milk, no breakfast.”

“Hmm, I don’t want that.”

Ibara reluctantly withdrew, looking decidedly reluctant.
　I slipped off my loafers and stepped onto the hallway.
Still flustered, adjusting my collar, I followed behind.
Then, moving into the living room, immediately.

“Ibara, you pervert!”

I protested.

“Right there in the entrance? That’s way too eager. You said you wouldn’t force yourself on me. You liar.”

“I wasn’t forcing myself. You were making that kind of face, Shigure-san.”

When? When did I make that kind of face?

“That’s a lie.”

“You were looking at me the whole time with eyes that clearly wanted a kiss.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You absolutely were.”

I wasn’t.
Swallowing that pointless argument, I — the mature adult — lowered myself onto the rug.
With a little plop, Ibara rolled herself into my lap.
Like a large cat. Also, her uniform’s pleated skirt had ridden up and things were getting precarious.
I silently fixed the hem of her skirt, and Ibara gave a little shiver.

“Like a cat.”

When I said it out loud, Ibara pressed her loosely curled hand against her cheek.

“Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”

What is that. Effortlessly cute. The living embodiment of coquettishness.

“Where did you learn that sort of thing?”

“There’s this song called ‘Wonderland Pussycat’ featuring Tama-chan, and all the members wore cat ears for the music video shoot.”

“Hmm.”

“Before doing it, I thought it was going to be a bit intense, but the finished product is actually pretty good. They used CG to animate the tails and stuff, so it’s properly authentic.”

Right, I’ll watch it later.

“Tama-chan is Kisaka-san?”

“Exactly.”

Kisaka-san uses ‘boku’ as her pronoun, has short hair, and is like a ‘Puss in Boots’. I greeted her at karaoke the other day.
She’s a girl with slender limbs and a somewhat androgynous vibe.

“That girl’s rather cute, isn’t she?”

“………….”

“Ow!”

She pinched my side without a word. Ouch.
Ibara looked up at me with eyes glistening with moisture.

“Why are you like that, Shigure-san?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why can you remain so oblivious at this stage? I don’t get it.”

She rolled over onto my lap, her head facing forward. ‘At this stage’ – I’d never actually heard anyone say that before.

“Ibara, are you angry?”

“I don’t know.”

Could she be sulking? Because I said another girl was cute?
What is that? Bloody adorable.
My urge to cherish Ibara began to stir within me.
Since Ibara was currently acting like a kitten, I tried stroking her under the chin. Ah, she twitched. Good girl.
　Believe it or not, I used to have a cat back home. My sister and I maxed out our cat-stroking skills.
At that cat café the other day, I didn’t even get to touch one, so I couldn’t show off my techniques. But today’s different.
First, I gently stroke her hair while subtly moving my hand towards her ears.
The trick is not to let her know what I’m after. Slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion.

“Mmm.”

Gently kneading the auricle.
Come to think of it, there’s apparently an acupuncture point for sound sleep in the ear. After hand massage, I should study ear acupressure.
Starting with the soft auricle, tracing the beautifully shaped anti-helix. Kitties usually don’t let you touch this part much.

“Mmm..”

I wondered if she had pierced ears, but there were no marks. A bit surprising.
I have both ears pierced, for what it’s worth.
Runa did them for me ages ago, if Ibara heard this story, she’d probably be terribly upset, so I’ll keep it a secret for now.
　Right then, finally the base. Cats love having their ear bases rubbed, so I reckon humans do too. Probably.
I stroke the protruding bit (it probably has a name) that protects the ear canal with the pad of my thumb.
Ibara’s shoulder twitches. Seems pleasant. Good girl, I’ll stroke it some more.

“…Mmm…”

“Having your ears touched feels nice, doesn’t it? Next time, I’ll give you an ear cleaning.”

“…Yeah.”

Oh, how obedient. All the more adorable.
I’ve no clue when to stop the ear massage.
But after rubbing for a while, her ears turned bright red, so I stopped, thinking, ‘That should be enough, right?’

“…Shigure-san.”

Then, with a flushed face, Ibara rolled onto her back.
Her eyes looked unusually feverish and glazed as she gazed up at me. Her focus was unfocused, and she seemed completely dazed. Was it really that good?

“Belly.”

“Belly?”

“…………………Just a little bit. I want you to stroke my belly.”

She’s a cat.
　Having your ears stroked and then offering up your belly… that really is just like a kitty, isn’t it.
Was Ibara always this cat-like? What even is ‘cat-like’?

“Is it alright? I thought you didn’t like having your belly touched.”

“It’s fine, hurry up.”

Still lying down, Ibara bent her knees.
Rubbing her thighs together restlessly, as if begging.

“Please. Touch me.”

Pop. She undid the buttons of her blouse herself, creating a gap.
Straight away?
Well, I suppose it’s fine.
I slipped my fingertips through the gap created by the two undone buttons.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※
I believe the tummy is safe.