Irisu pressed her groin against the corner of the desk. She sighed. She wasn't a child. She knew how to masturbate. But the crassness of touching her clitoris or - even worse - inserting some phallic object did not appeal to her sensibilities. Not to say that rubbing one's self against a desk was any better, but the plausible deniability of it made it more palatable to her.
But the desk was an inadequate partner. Two layers of cloth blunted any minimal amount of pleasure she derived from the act. It was not for lack of effort. She rubbed and rubbed and could feel a dampness just starting to spread when she heard Oreki's voice from behind her.
"What are you doing?"
Any other girl would have screamed and run out of the room, but such hysterics did not suit Irisu. She stepped away from her desk, letting the hemline of her skirt fall back in place and restore her modesty. She faced Oreki. He did not look especially lecherous, and knowing his penchant for lethargy Irisu was confident he would not attack her, or even touch her without permission. He was not that kind of man.
She knew something like this might happen one day. She was not a fool. She knew the classroom doors could not be locked, and she had a perfectly suitable desk in her own bedroom. But the risk of getting caught was part of the thrill. And now Oreki had caught her.
"I had left my textbook here," Irisu explained.
Oreki did not look convinced.
"Where is it?"
She reached into the desk. It was empty.
"In my bag," Irisu said.
They both looked at her bag. It was on another desk, far away.
"I need to thank you," Irisu said. "The movie was a bigger success than any of us could have imagined."
Oreki's mood soured. He didn't want to remember the movie.
"It's still unquestionably the work of amateurs, but given our constraints I thought it turned out rather well."
"I'm glad I could be of use," Oreki said.
Irisu reached forward. Her fingers were long and slender and they grasped the first button of Oreki's jacket and fastened it. Her skin brushed against Oreki's chin.
"I'm throwing a party to celebrate," she said. "The cast will be there. I've invited Chitanda as well. I want you to come."
"I'm not really-"
"It will be at my house. I will text you the address and directions. Keep your schedule open this Sunday."
She left before Oreki could get another word in.
He knew she was masturbating, and she knew he knew she was masturbating, and on paper he had all the advantages. And yet here he was now, standing in front of Irisu's house to attend the celebration party for the movie he despised.
Irisu's house was not on the same scale as Chitanda's, but it was still easily twice the size of Oreki's own home. He could see expensive imported cars parked in the driveway. The lawn was immaculately manicured. Everything was in its right place.
Oreki ringed the doorbell and moments later the door swung open. Irisu was standing there wearing a white sweater and a dark tartan skirt.
"You're early," she said. "Come in."
It was two o'clock, which was the time Irisu had given him.
Oreki sat down in the couch. Irisu brought out a tray of tea and cookies and sat down opposite Oreki.
"Where is everyone?" Oreki asked.
"Who?"
"Chitanda."
"She was unavailable."
Oreki frowned. He should have called Chitanda to confirm if Irisu had actually invited her. He didn't bother asking about the cast.
Oreki sipped his tea and snacked on a cookie.
"Why am I here," he asked.
Irisu seemed to ponder the question, as if it required an answer with gravitas.
"I invited you here so we could talk."
"You lied to me."
"I did what was necessary."
Oreki shook his head and stood up to leave. But Irisu stared him down and her gaze was like a shackle. He couldn't move.
"It's true I lied to you. I was acting irrationally. You caught me-"
Irisu paused.
"What were you doing in that room?" Oreki asked.
"Why don't you try to deduce it."
Oreki sat down again.
"The students call you the Empress. But a true empress has no peers. When you're not leading a group, you're seldom seen with friends. Who is your equal? People like Kugayama and Tanabe have their own circles and they rarely interact with you. It stands to reason that you don't have much of a love life."
Irisu drank her tea.
"And how do you know these things? We aren't even in the same class."
"Fukube told me when I asked him about you."
"Go on."
"Even so, you are a model student. You maintain top grades and you contribute heavily to clubs and organizations you're not even a member of. The teachers, your parents, and your classmates have high expectations of you. There's an incredible amount of stress from such obligations."
"A young girl, with no close friends, who must maintain the image of a perfect student and a perfect daughter. You have a desire to rebel. To subvert that image. Of course you aren't reckless. You're not going to smoke, or run away, or sleep with older men for money. Instead you come to school after everyone is gone, and when you think no one is looking you rub yourself against the corner of a desk."
Irisu smiled.
"I am impressed. Once again you have presented a theory that matches all the facts. It is not necessarily true, but there is no contrary evidence to disbelieve it."
"You never change," Oreki said, shaking his head.
"Now let me ask you this, Oreki. If you knew all this already, why did you still come here?"
Oreki opened his mouth to utter the first thoughts that appeared in his mind. But he knew better than that. He had to be careful.
Irisu stood up and approached Oreki. She extended her arm and let her fingers run through his hair.
"Despite how much you despise me, still you willingly came to my house. The place where I have absolute control. Why is that?"
"I..."
She grabbed the back of Oreki's head and lightly tugged it back so that he was looking up, into her face.
"Could it be that you enjoy being humiliated?"
Oreki pushed Irisu's hand away.
"I'm not going to let you insult me like this. I'm leaving."
"Sit down."
Oreki stood still. He wanted to leave. There was no reason to stay. And yet...
He sat down. Irisu crossed her arms across her chest. The fabric of the sweater stretched across her breasts which suddenly looked large and full.
Irisu sat down again and crossed her legs. Her legs were bare and unblemished. Her skirt was short enough that Oreki could see most of her thigh.
"Are you interested in me?" she asked.
"A little."
"Good. I'm interested in you as well. I see no reason for us to be enemies. I'm certain we can be good friends."
She raised her leg and she pressed her foot against his groin.
Oreki gave up. Whatever small shred of pride he had struggled to maintain was subsumed into his libido. His erection pushed against the heel of her foot. He wanted more. Irisu could tell by the pained look on his face.
She lowered her foot and said: "Take it out."
Oreki obeyed. Irisu remained motionless as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was the first time he had exposed himself in front of a girl and his face felt hot with shame.
Irisu smirked. Oreki winced. Her face said it all. "Is that it?" There was no fear, no curiosity. Only amusement.
The head of his cock was smeared with precum. Masturbating took no effort at all. He lasted a minute and then he was bent over, head between his knees ejaculating semen over the hardwood floor. He stared at the white puddle between his feet. He was still hard.
Irisu stood up, left, and returned carrying a wash cloth. She kneeled down in front of Oreki, letting her skirt ride up and revealing her panties. They were white and trimmed with lace. The sight of her inner thigh, pale as milk, made his cock twitch. She wiped the semen away with the cloth, folded it once, and held it underneath the tip of Oreki's penis.
His mouth drifted open. Irisu's eyes were fixed on his. She showed no emotion. He stroked his wet cock until he came again. Irisu regarded the soiled cloth with distaste and discarded it in a wastebasket before returning to her seat.
"I apologize for not doing more. But it seemed silly to expend more than the minimum amount of effort necessary. I'm sure you understand."