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31945 No. 31945
In the fantastical land of Gensokyo, there is a Magical Forest. Inside of that forest, there is a girl. She is known as Marisa Kirisame, the ‘Fine Witch of the East’.

“Marisa, you jerk!


She’s kind of an asshole.

Were she a better person, however, she would not be magically disrobing her best friend with a newly learned spell. Such trivialities do not stop Marisa Kirisame, pointing a wooden wand at the quickly reddening, naked Alice.

Alice tries to maintain her composure, sputtering some further continuance before shielding her body – at least the upper half – with her arms. She flees the scene, dolls in tow and tears streaming down her cheeks. She has left behind her clothes, abandoning all pretense of dignity.

“Shaved.”

Marisa notes, nodding and watching her go. Satisfied at the mental image, she peruses her abandoned friend’s clothing, quickly discarding the dress and skirt until she finds and holds up the underwear – a single G-string, thin as could be. There she holds it above her head, showing it to the world, or at least everything nearby in the forest.



“…How boring. I bet she’s already done everything like that.”

Marisa discards the G-string, lost to the wind so thin was it. Clenching her fist, looking on angrily.

Vulgar! Indecent! Unacceptable! This is the not the pure lass she had hoped to find. No immaculate white intimates to soil. No pure maiden to defile. Alice would, clearly, not be acceptable. So then where, she wondered. Where indeed might she find someone young and innocent and pure?

No. 31946
Rise, my army of shotas!! Hahahahaha!

She stood atop the school building, shooting vaguely threatening bolts of lightning into the sky as she towered over the students. She was not unfamiliar to them, nor them to her, and now she came to sort those runts from the litter.

The youngest cadre of boys that might be vaguely considered men. Some may say they are too young. But not Marisa. Today, she seeks a wholly inappropriate level of youth.

“Uhm… hi Miss Marisa.”

“Eh?”

She ceases to fire lightning, looking down at the group of boys looking up at her. A crease forms across her forehead in anger as one eyebrow raises.

“I said get in formation! Go go go go go go!”

She jumps into their midst with a theatric burst of air which whips at her clothes, shooting lightning bolts the whole time as the boys scramble around her. She stops only when they have lined up in order of shortest to tallest, standing at faux attention in front of her.

Marisa brushes her clothes off as if this was a minor inconvenience, projecting a full image of ‘coolness’ to her young apprentices. She clasps her hands behind her back, with upturned chin and lip as though perpetually disappointed, and heads down the line, examining each one as she speaks entirely too loudly.

“I seek among you those that are young, innocent, pure and unsullied! Ignorant of the concept of rough, non-consensual sex, touching hands or lips or anything else like that! Especially underwear! If you know what the word ‘pantsu’ means, you are useless to me!”

One of the boys giggles as she passes in front of him and she stops to give him a death stare, demanding loudly,

“And just what! do you think is so funny, you worm?”

She has no time to receive an answer before she feels a gust of wind up her backside as her skirt is flipped, exposing her most intimate clothes to the full view of the boy that had hid behind her.

The line of boys breaks out in giggles for a moment, several boys leaning forward as they try to glimpse what is under those folds. It is in that moment that Marisa realizes that this group of young, horny and hormone-filled teenage boys would just not do. Oh no, they would just not do.

She spins around, whipping out her mini-Hakkero from her blouse with a truly deadly stare this time. She only mutters one word as she aims the instrument of his destruction.

Impure.

The young boy laughs for a moment, picking his nose in the brief moment before the blinding flash of light encompasses him and shoots off into the distance, barely missing huge portions of the village.

The remaining boys all yell with varying levels of horror. The few who weren’t already breaking the line now jump out, crowding around the pile of ash that used to be their friend. They complain loudly and uniformly.

“Y-You killed him!”

“Oh man, now we gotta see that scary Yama to get him back home before our moms find out! You’re so cruel, Miss Marisa!”

She slaps that one upside the back of the head, yelling at them the whole time and exaggeratedly motioning her arm like the overzealous teacher she is.

“That’s Drill Sergeant Miss Marisa to you worms! Back in line! Back in line, all of you! I’ll toast ya, too!”

She continues yelling orders at them, nonsensical and directed at nobody in particular, even if they are already obeying. She takes the chance to wave her mini-Hakkero around, pointing it anyone even vaguely out of place.

“Yes ma’am Drill Sergeant Miss Marisa!”

They all repeat in unison, hanging on her every word as they always do. They resume their line, and Marisa resumes her inspection with a quickened pace, going down the line and appropriating each and every one of their manliest features, or lack of them. She grows more dissatisfied the further down the line she goes, abruptly halting and looking over the entire group before speaking.

“I seek here a partner! In crime! A confidante, if you will! Someone I can say bad things to, and do to them, too! And with! Especially with! But mostly to them! Someone who’s not afraid to get on their knees for me! Someone who will bend over… backwards! Someone who will take a bullet for me, or even a… large, phallic-shaped object!”

She pauses and adjusts her hat, placing her hands on her hips for maximum authority over her neophytes. She lets the pause continue for dramatic effect before raising her voice to the heavens, addressing all of them.

“Do you know what the problem with all of you are?”

She gives a great flourish, throwing her arms wide open as if to perform some extensive miracle and reveal a great truth to this congregation. She shows an aura of greatness, and speaks it too.

You are all boys!

Simultaneously the trousers and shorts of every boy drop through her magic.

As customary through the village, males do not wear undergarments. And neither do they here.
No. 31947
Needless to say, Marisa quickly found herself ‘escorted’ outside the village wall whereupon the gates were unceremoniously slammed on her. She rubs her sore butt, grumbling at the situation the whole time.

“You can’t do this to me! I’m the ‘Fine Witch of the East’!”

She bangs on the wood with her fist, throwing insults and threats the whole time.

“I can fly, you know! Don’t make my fly! I will! I will fly right over this gate!”

So concentrated was she on her threat-making that she failed to notice the female farm hand who had time to approach and stare as she continued to pound.

“Uhm, I don’t think they’ll let you in just because you knocked really loud.”

“Eh?”

She turns to stare at the new girl, fixing so completely on her as to unnerve her. Marisa takes one imminent step at her, looking the whole time as if she’s going to jump her.

“Uhm did I say some-something wrong?”

The girl yelps as Marisa ambushes her, working over every piece at her. Tugging at the cotton shirt beneath the overalls and inspecting it, pulling on the folds of her pants to look for a gap that might be glimpsed down, grabbing her two blonde hair curls and sniffing them.

Confident, she steps away from the quivering girl hiding her face with her hands protecting her head. She peeks up at Marisa, still unsure if she’s going to be eaten or attacked.

“You smell like dung, farm hand.”

A farm hand. A working girl. Probably with all those animals! Those disgusting pigs, and the huge girth of horses! The very image conjures incredibly vivid daydreams in the mind of the sorcerer. She’s probably looser than a goose, Marisa confidently determines in her own head, after a thorough imagining of the consequences of taking such a large object inside of a person.

But, that will do.

“You are now Marisa Kirisame, Fine Witch of the East!”

Marisa produces her wooden wand, pointing it straight at the girl with an expression of concentration across her face. She just continues staring and pointing like that, but nothing seems to happen,

“But my name isn’t-”

She gets only a few words out before screeching as her clothes fall off at the seams. She only barely catches the remains, pressing them against her body’s most private areas and squatting in an attempt to retain her dignity.

Marisa quickly jumps on her, trying to pull away the last vestiges of her virtues.

“Come on girl, you can have my clothes in exchange! I need a good disguise!”

Amid the cries of protest, Marisa pushes the girl over and straddles the top of her, practically molesting the poor girl as she tosses the cotton shirt over her shoulder.

“I don’t want the first person to see my body to be a stranger!”

The girl cries, but Marisa merely yells flimsy excuses, heedless of the girl’s plight.

“I’m a girl, so it’s all right! Release your pants!

“I don’t want the first girl to see my body to be a stranger!”

The tug-of-war stops. The girl releases her hold on the overalls to cover her mouth and brightly reddening face.

“…Eh? You’re-?”

The little gears clink in Marisa’s head. She pulls away with her ‘prize’, saying nothing as she changes into the embarrassed girl’s clothes. Neither knows what exactly to say, and Marisa simply stands there after she has finished, playing with her hair.

“What’s your name?”

She turns and asks, curling her hair to resemble the girl’s. The girl looks away, still not comfortable as the nakedness of her body.

“It’s Noriko. My name is Noriko.”

Marisa smirks, taking off the final part of her own clothes, her hat, and holding it out to the girl.

“Don’t misunderstand or nothin’. I just needed to know for my disguise.”
No. 31948
Unfortunately for Marisa, she had not appropriately considered her masquerade, for farm hands are not permitted stays in the village. Her stubborn insistence that she was, in fact, just a normal human who was allowed in did nothing to endear the guards, especially when she attempted to complete her disguise by comparing them to “the depths of cow manure”.

She would once again find herself ungraciously ejected from the village, sore rump and all.

“Are you okay, Marisa?”

She looked up to see the girl whose clothes she had stolen. Awkwardly fit and all, wizard hat nearly falling off her head.

“Buzz off, girl. Can’t ya see I’m meditating on how to get into the village?”

Marisa stood up and brushed her off, physically and metaphorically, looking up and down the wall for a place to fly over it.

“It’s Noriko! It’s okay if you forgot! I wanted to give you your clothes back! I thought they’d probably throw you right out again if you actually went in as me, so I was waiting for you here!’

Marisa looked at the girl, Noriko. Odd girl. Real odd. No idea what her problem is. She dismisses the girl, waving that concern away.

“I said you could keep ‘em. I’m not giving you your clothes back just cause you don’t want mine.”

“No, it’s not that!”

Noriko yells, very much too loud to be appropriate. Embarrassed, and only moreso as Marisa cocks an eyebrow at her, she stumbles through the rest of her reasoning.

“It’s just that, uhm, I didn’t realize your outfit looked so cool and it’s so nice and uh, I don’t have any- any nice clothes like this, so you must really miss them! You said you needed my clothes, so I guess you could keep them, but if I was missing clothes like this I’d really want them back! They’re so cool!”

Too loud, again. Overenthusiastic. She really does think they’re cool.

Marisa thinks it over for a second, nodding.

“Okay. I’ll take them back. But you’re not getting these clothes back, so I guess you’ll just have to get naked in front of me. I’m watching.”

For added measure she gives a really vulgar lookover of the girl, as if she’d enjoy every moment of it.

“No no no! I can’t do that! I could- I mean uh! Like, you could come to my house and I could change there and give them to you and I’m not inviting you to my house, that’s not what I mean! Not that I’d mind if you did that or wanted to do that or- Ah, uhm…”

She wisely opts to stop speaking, burying her face into her palms.

What’s with this girl? Marisa’s mind races… ‘How can a slutty farm hand be so contradictory? And returning the clothes? Hrmph! What kind of stupid thing is that? Did she honestly expect to get her clothes back? Is she so ignorant?

Is she so… innocent?’

“I was just thinking…”

Noriko speaks, peering through intertwined fingers.

“If you wanted to get into the village, why don’t we just ask nicely?”
No. 31949
“Well you ain’t gonna impress anybody looking like, well, you.”

“Oh? I think I have a dress that is presentable.”

Funny how things work. How they ended up back at her house anyways. How Marisa is getting her clothes back regardless. And, she hopes, entry to the village despite the ban.

“Uhm… I’ll change inside and hand the clothes out so you can put your costume back on, okay Marisa?”

She shrugs, idly wondering what kind of ‘dress’ Noriko had in mind. Something revealing, surely. Cleavage and inner thigh showing and…

“Why don’t you just change out here? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”

“I- I don’t…”

This girl! She walked into that one. Marisa stood up, looking her straight in the fact and grabbing hold of the door handle.

Go change already.

She slams the door.

This girl…

Marisa shakes her head.

Isn’t she innocent?

“M-Marisa! Marisa, did you walk away? Wah… If you can hear me, grab your skirt! I don’t want to drop it in the dirt! Marisaaaa!

She glances over at the door, slightly ajar, bare arm wiggling around waving some of her clothes.

This girl.

Marisa shakes her head.

She really shouldn’t be exposing herself like that. But Marisa resists the urge to simply peek in and glimpse Noriko pressing herself against the door. That’s too easy.

Instead, she grabs the girl’s wrist and pulls her towards the opening in the doorway. She shrieks at the idea of her entire body being exposed. Fascinating, it is. Pull, she pulls back. She didn’t think of exposing herself like this at all.

“I’m not decent! Marisa! Marisa, please stop if that’s you!”

…Isn’t she innocent?

Marisa lets the poor girl go, pulling the skirt away from her and piling on the rest as they are quickly shuttled out before the door is fully shut again.

“Thanks.”

She quips, already shedding bits of the farm hand outfit.

And from the other side of the door, still pressed against it, a solitary, meek voice.


“You’re welcome.”

What’s wrong with this girl?

Focus! Village! Shotas! Other, real maidens!

The plan is simple. Marisa, being herself, will simply be flashy and acceptable. Noriko will dress in something not country hick, and do the talking. No man could resist the allure of one Marisa, let alone Marisa and somebody that pegs her highly in comparison!

All fine in Marisa’s reasoning, thinking of no one but herself. She smirked as she buttoned up her own dress. She’ll carry the day herself, surely.

After all, why should she consider the farm hand, the worker, the lowly peasant, the-

The door opens.

…this average, plain, completely tasteful girl!?

“Are you even trying to show off?!”

“Wha-?”

Noriko gets no chance to question, immediately being set upon by her friend. Stalking around her like a photographer looking for the slightest blemish. Alas poor Noriko, for all is blemish in Marisa’s eyes!

“No shoulder showing! This skirt is practically at your knees! And this? Do you even pad?!

Marisa waits for no answer, checking by herself. Manually. Physically.

Noriko shrieks as Marisa gropes her, pushing at Marisa’s face as Marisa pushes into her chest, the whole scene a farcical violation of personal space and rights. It only stops when Marisa has mounted the poor girl, having forced her onto the ground during the groping.

“Small breasts such as yours will not sway a man! You’re not even exposing your cleavage! One cannot inappropriately admire something that cannot be glimpsed! They barely jiggle!”

Marisa takes the opportunity to jiggle them, just a bit, to demonstrate.

“They just started to- Please stop touching them, that’s sensitive! Uwah… They just started to grow out recently.”

She admitted, shaking her head.

“Just how old are you?”

Marisa asks, leaning in close and squinting at the girl, eying her for any hint of deceit, like an inquisitor seeking an absolute truth. A truth about breasts.

“I’m… passed the age of majority?”

That old. That young.

No, it could not be! Marisa shook her head clear. This girl is a slut. The furthest thing from pure. Just because she puts on a good act does not mean she is the thing itself.

She brushed herself off and pushed off, not bothering to even lend a hand to the girl she had toppled. Only putting her hands on her hips and looking away towards the village. Surely, she was just thinking of the plan.

“Well I hope your manners are better than your looks, because the guards aren’t going to be impressed. You’re absolutely dreadful.”

“Marisa…”

She turns to look back at Noriko, the fair maiden in a dress.

A full sweep of her back leg. A bend of the knee. Head slightly bowed and eyes fluttering as she holds her skirt out from her body.

A perfect curtsy, the epitome of class and good grace.

“Would you please accompany me to our village?”

This girl!
No. 31950
So they approached, arm in arm, to the village gate. It was Marisa’s idea, of course. “It’s more convincing!” What a sly girl she is. If only there was an acceptable method of walking that involved their bodies pressing together. A piggyback on the way back, perhaps? Marisa’s thoughts may be undue, but the fact those thoughts linger at all is a telling tale…

Eyes turn toward them. Well, the one pair of the guard. The perfect couple, or the perfect couple of friends?

Noriko pays the gawking no mind, marching right up to the guard and practically dragging Marisa with her. She waits a moment before speaking, choosing her words carefully and opening a flowery oratory.

“Mister, would you please allow me and my friend entry? My friend has important business with Lord Nakajima and asked me to accompany her. She’s a little shy.”

Noriko leans forward, whispering the last part with a wink. For the guard’s part, he merely drools.

Look cool, Marisa. Ignore the stare. The lecherous eyes wandering across your breasts! Impure filth, disgusting vermin[i], carnal beast and-!

“Right on through, missy.”

Eh?

“Thank you, sir.”

Noriko moves to enter, tugging Marisa’s arm and whispering back at her when no response is forthcoming.

“Come on, don’t blow it!”

Just go in. Just walk. A few steps. Don’t look. Don’t turn back and flip him off. Don’t make any rude signs or gestures.

A few steps, and the gate closes behind them. They are inside. She is inside.

“[i]Yeeeeaaaah!


Marisa yells, breaking their arm lock and pointing at the sky and nothing in particular.

“Take that silly rules! I’m smarter and stronger and better than anything you can make!”

She pauses to exhale, adjusting her hat and pointing right at Noriko.

“And you! You were great. Hooked that lecher hook, line, and sinker. He was staring at me, but listening to you the whole time.”

She seems taken aback by the sudden compliment, putting her hand to her cheek and looking away.

“Oh… Well thank you.”

Marisa smirks, allowing the moment to pass as she basks in the glory of having outsmarted the walls.

“Ah… Well. Time to go. Ciao.”

“You’re leaving?”

She implores. The fair maiden has a request. Hands clasped, looking on hopefully at Marisa, who is already half-turned to leave.

“Well, yeah. I’m in the village now. I’m gonna do all that stuff I wanted to do.”

“I thought we could get something to eat since we both came dressed up.”

This draws a glare from Marisa. A stare. She folds her arms, turning up her chin and staring down at poor Noriko as if the whole world were judging her. She asks quietly, restrained.

“Are you asking me out?”

Of course. Marisa knew from the beginning. She could not have been pure. This was her ultimate goal! She wishes to use it as an excuse to go bump bump! The vulgarity…

I accept!

It’s a challenge! A challenge for the truth of innocence. And the ‘Fine Witch of the East’ turns down no challenge, does she?

“Eh?! But I’m not-!”

Noriko is unable to finish her sentence before Marisa seizes her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Lead on!

She exhorts, pushing her ahead through a small stumble. Marisa keeps encouraging her, just take charge and lead on! Keep going, keep going! Noriko pulls ahead, and Marisa slinks back a few feet. A little wiggle of the wand, and an infinitesimal wind sweeps by Noriko’s legs, too weak for the poor girl to sense, so concentrated on pleasing as she is. Too weak to notice, but strong enough to slowly lift the back of her skirt. Marisa keeps in stride, bending down just a few inches to peek under the cover…

Pure white maiden?!

Marisa has to clasp her hands against her mouth to prevent from shouting. It could not be. The simple purity of white panties. Not flashy, not impressive. If she intended to bed someone, those would not impress at all. They are not decorative, merely comfortable!

“Did you say something?”

They pause as Marisa realizes she’s holding her face in a combination of shock and horror. She quickly recovers, waving Noriko off and adjusting her hat.

“No, no! Of course not. Ahem. Just a little cough. Continue on.”

“All right…”

Just two girls going to eat together. Two friends out for the day. An innocent exhibition.

How scandalous could that possibly be?
No. 31951
The two are seated outside. Opposite each other, of course. Just the two girls together at a table. A female server, and plenty of passing eyes to wander onto them. None linger, for there’s nothing remarkable about two girls eating together, idly chatting about all manners of things.

It’s perfectly innocent, far too innocent.

“I’d like a wiener for my friend. Ah, a hot dog I mean.”

The server understands instantly, putting her hands to her face in embarrassment. Noriko chimes in, oblivious.

“Oh, I’ve never had a hot dog before!”

Marisa only glances over, smiling the whole time.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve never been given a hot dog.”

Noriko, ignorant of the whole duplicity, agrees, seeking eagerly to try this new thing. The sever hurriedly returns, slapping down a single plate with bun and dog before quickly walking off, muttering about ‘shame’.

“Go on, Noriko. Try it.”

“O-Okay! Here I go!”

“No, no. Not like that. You put one hand at the base, and the other hand at the tip and bring it up to your mouth. Yes, yes. Now taste it. Close your eyes. Yes, like that. Use your tongue!

Marisa was not the only person watching this spectacle, but she was the closest. And leaning closer. Chin in her hands, verbally coaching the whole affair as she leans in more and more over the table.

Noriko finishes putting the meat in her throat, licking her lips and her fingers.

“It’s salty… Hey, what are you staring at?”

“I’m undressing you with my eyes.”

Marisa candidly explains, furthering her sexual harassment against the poor girl who is distraught by the very idea. Noriko remembers their first encounter, but mostly the clothes exploding. She grasps at her dress, embarrassed.

“Please don’t disrobe me with your magic again! That’s far too mean!”

Marisa merely licks her lips, still staring at the helpless girl.

“Oh no, I can’t actually undress you with my eyes. I need my hands for that. Coincidentally, non-mages would also use their hands to remove your white, plain panties.”

Noriko’s jaw drops open almost as quickly as her face fills with red. She stammers part of a demand for explanation before switching to trying to cover her face, remembering her clothing predicament, and failing to solve neither. She simply flails for a few moments as she tries to decide between hiding her shameful face or holding her clothes together. She accomplishes neither, and instead opts to slump down in her chair, making herself look as small as possible.

“Cute.”

Marisa declares, choosing that moment to resume eating even as Noriko cowers in her chair. Marisa carefully continues eating, pretending to not even pay attention to the pitiable girl. Cleverly just enough to coax her back into continuing the eat-out.

Noriko pokes her head up barely. Lured back in. Just a normal bit of dining from there on, she’s convinced. She walks right into Marisa’s trap.

A piece of silverware clatters against the ground.

“Oops. I dropped my spoon.”

If Noriko were a more observant girl, she may have noticed Marisa diligently watching her, instead of looking for the dropped utensil. If Noriko were a more sensible girl, she may have avoided the trap, instead of earnestly dashing into it.

Fortunately, Noriko is neither.

“I’ll get it!”

Three. Two. One.

Marisa leans back in her chair, gently whistling as she grips the back of it and opens her legs all the way.

There’s a shriek, then a loud bump as head meets table. Poor Noriko pulls herself out from under the table with one arm, desperately waving at Marisa.

“Marisa! Everybody can see your- your-!”

“Oh, I know.”

It is a small wonder neither of them walked out then. Nor the hour past that, nor the hour past that. Neither had escaped, only moving closer and closer in their dance. They may be likened to two blazing stars, each circling the other, growing closer with each pass. The flames of their passions may only brush as they pass, but each comes around again, crossing closer and closer until finally, they meet.

Both reveled into the closing hours of daylight. Even after all those that had been before them had already left. Even as the shutters were drawn and stores closed and sun dipped into the evening horizon.

The more she learned, the more troubled Marisa became. She did not believe in perfection, nor grace. Morality was a lie, humility a misdirection. Beauty, a covering for ugliness, and none of these things acceptable to herself. She was seeking only innocence, believing it an impossibly lofty goal.

But, she was willing to try.

She just needed a push in the right direction, is all.

So she put her trust in Noriko. Let her lead on, legitimately this time. They walked, and talked, and their hands found each other. Noriko, leading the way through the village as Marisa hung on her every step, every word.

The push she needed was only to look at herself and what she was like.

Noriko wailed as her a rock hit her knee and she fell.

“Haha! Two girls holding hands! Haha! Two girls!”

More rocks came, and began to pelt the two. Marisa jumped forward and stood between the source of the rocks and Noriko, arms outstretched.

That’s enough!

It was two of the schoolboys that stepped forward, rocks in hand. Marisa wasn’t even considering her actions as she reached into the folds of her dress, drawing her mini-Hakkero. Only a tug at the back of her clothes stopped her.

She swiveled to see Noriko wiping a tear from her eye, supporting herself against a building because of the scrape on her leg.

“It’s okay, Marisa. They don’t know any better.”

She turned back to the two delinquents. She knew them both. They were among those schoolboys she had instructed earlier, and many times before that. What were they doing but imitating the ruffian they looked up to?

“Yes they do…”

Marisa muttered and shook her head. She took Noriko’s arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, supporting the girl.

“I’m sorry. I’ve taught them badly.”

With that, she swept Noriko’s legs out from under her, much to her audible surprise as she is picked up in a bridal carry. Instantly, Marisa turns to the boys.

Hear this! This girl is with me! Anybody who throws a rock at her, anybody who makes fun of her… they’re doing the same thing to me! I will not tolerate one ounce of disrespect against her!”

Having her point made, Marisa touches off the ground and floats into the air, pointing away from the village. The two fly towards a house they had visited earlier in the day.
No. 31952
The door flew open at the first hit, bouncing off the opposite wall and coming to rest at an angle, leaning off several of its hinges.

Marisa paraded triumphantly in, pitching her prize onto the bed.

“Uh, thanks for flying me back home. I don’t really- Eep!”

Noriko is interrupted by Marisa dropping her skirt and dress in a single motion, leaving only her undergarments. She doesn’t get the chance to ask anything else as Marisa jumps her, their mouths meeting.

Noriko does not complain as she is handled back on the bed and Marisa positions herself above. The kissing is only stopped as Marisa switches her attention to the neck.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

She whispers into Noriko’s ear. The heart beats faster. Afraid it might stop. Afraid it might go on and go wrong. She was not capable of moving forward on her own. Marisa’s caressing would do that.

“Not one response to my advances, not one errant word, not a single allowance to explore such feelings…!”

Her fingers trace their way down to the bra. Nails circling the heart, and other things. They feel the response. It beats strongly. It beats quickly. Marisa pulls back, looking into her eyes. Feels the warmth of her cheek.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?”

Tears well up in Noriko’s eyes. Her true feelings left open to the world. Approval was at hand, and for this reason she feared rejection now more than ever.

“I-I don’t know anything about love! I was afraid you wouldn’t like me! Please don’t hate me.”

She lunged up, throwing her arms around her lover and pulling her as close as she could. Amid the quiet sobbing and shushing, as her tears rolled down her chin and onto Marisa’s shoulder, the two embraced.

Marisa gently consoled her, wiping away her tears and stroking her hair. There would be no rejection. They had both found what they were looking for.

“Let me teach you. Let me please you, and only do what you’re comfortable with.”

Noriko offered no resistance, merely adjusting herself to get comfortable as Marisa went down on her. She tried not to look, patiently twiddling her thumbs as she felt Marisa work her way further and further down.

“Oh.”

She gasps as her skirt is flipped up. She can feel everything below her waist open to the world. Fingers tracing their way down her inner thigh, curving back to her pubes. A finger tugging at the edge of her panties.

“Oh! Uhm, I don’t- S-So it’s kind of dirty…”

Noriko quiets herself by biting her lip, looking the other way, then the other way, and up. Everywhere but down as she feels the tender sensation of fingers through her pubic hair, just brushing against forbidden depths. She quivers in anticipation, entire body waiting for slender fingers to touch – and even penetrate – her most intimates.

What she was not expecting was a tongue.

Oh!

The sudden pleasure makes Noriko shoot her up in seat, almost instinctually pushing away, but she catches herself. Instead she ends up clasping her hands together, biting her knuckles as a tongue goes further and further into her.

Noriko cannot contain her excitement forever, though. Within just a few minutes she is whispering praise, and her voice only grows louder and her legs wider the more she is pleasured. Her voice threatens to ring for miles before it suddenly stops, the licking having ceased. She takes a moment to collect herself and find her voice in between the panting before she can even look to demand an explanation.

“Why did you stop?!”

Marisa stares back at her, face flushed. Both of her hands are down below her waist, and her mouth makes little whines as Noriko can see her arms moving.

“Sorry- I got distracted.”

Marisa instructs her to relax back again and returns to her pleasuring with gusto. Hungering for her own chance, Marisa wastes no time bringing Noriko to climax. She ravages her nethers, pressing on even as her shuddering nearly shakes the bed apart and her voice grows loud enough to be heard through the walls.

Marisa presses her very face into her lover’s crotch as she finishes, carefully lapping up every last bit of juices and continuing until she stops most of her convulsions.

Free to focus on herself for a moment, Marisa intensifies her self-fingering, stopping only for the moment it takes to roll over in the bed and throw off her panties, leaving the soaking lingerie around her ankle.

“Oh, christ.

She moans, feverishly masturbating to get off as well. She’s paused by Noriko, who takes a moment to kiss her clit before awkwardly rubbing her fingers against the folds, only serving to heighten Marisa’s excitement further by the teasing. She quickly figures out the right way to do it and adjusts to better pleasure her. One finger has Marisa whining for more, but as she inserts the second Marisa becomes absolutely orgasmic. It takes only a few seconds of an unfamiliar hand’s pleasuring before she, too, comes to climax. Noriko dutifully plants her face into Marisa’s crotch to tongue in the end result. The extra stimulation extends the pleasure, leaving Marisa’s body a quivering wreck after reaching heights she could not possibly do on her own.

The two are left panting and collecting themselves after such a feat, preferring to slowly crawl into each others’ embraces and cuddle.

“Today was wonderful.”

Noriko sighs, snuggling closer to her lover’s breasts. Marisa merely signals her agreement, running her hand down Noriko’s hair as she strokes it.

“Today was nice. Tomorrow will be better. I’ll teach you about anal. And toys. There are a lot of toys. You don’t need a man to feel that pleasure.”

Noriko purred, content to be in the embrace of someone she could trust. Fulfilled in totality. Happy to be alive.

“Teach me about you, instead.”

A hint of red tinged Marisa’s cheeks.
No. 31953
Original idea by Kryisme!8Gmg1K7oas

Special Thanks:
anonybody
krisslanza!l6ZeLPD4F6
balistafreak
No. 31954
Padding post so you can't see the other parts from the front page.
No. 31955
Padding post so you can't see the other parts from the front page.
No. 31956
>“Do you know what the problem with all of you are?”
>“You are all boys!”
>Simultaneously the trousers and shorts of every boy drop through her magic.
>As customary through the village, males do not wear undergarments. And neither do they here.

I find this strangely amusing.

So Marisa has found a new lover? I'm kind of expecting to read a continuation after this. Great job.
No. 31963
>“Teach me about you, instead.”
>A hint of red tinged Marisa’s cheeks.


Hnnnnnnnngh. You are a scholar and a gentleman.
No. 31981
I've seen a lot of stupid shit here... I think this might take the cake