[fic] The Advantages of a Summer Job (Sanada/Fuji, girl!au, R)
Title: The Advantages of a Summer Job
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Sanada Genichirou and Fuji Syuusuke, both genderswapped
Rating: R
Notes: Girl!au. Originally intended to be part of the biker gang!au, but it just didn't work out. Based, partially, on the prompt: Sanada/Fuji - bad example of a lady, from both Em and Noey. ~2700 words.
Sanada hates her job. It's a horrible thing, folding panties and hanging up bras all day long, but her mother knows the owner and when a position came up, decided it was time for Sanada to get a part time job during the summer.
"Besides, Gen," her mother said, "maybe you can pick up a few things at discount that are in your.... size."
Sanada knows her parents aren't pleased about her developing body and the fact that her bras tend to run more expensive; she's not pleased with it either, especially when it means she wears bras that are more suited to her mother's generation than the pretty things her classmates wear.
The lingerie shop is tasteful and expensive, not the type of place most of her peers would visit and Sanada is thankful that; no one she knows will see her. Nor is it the type of place women with wild tastes would visit, so she runs no risk of seeing anything indecent, beyond the lacy teddies and sheer nightgowns.
The shop also has bras - pretty ones, of silk and lace and sheer materials - that fit her; has panties that don't look boring and are designed for women with hips. And the more Sanada folds them, hangs them, watches women - women with breasts that make hers seem small, curving hips, small waists, long legs, pretty smiles - pick them out, the more she hates them. Hates the pretty bras, with the white lace and pink rosettes and black silk and wild leopard prints; hates the ruffles on the panties, the thongs and the bikinis and the matching sleepwear. She doesn't even look at the teddies, the camisoles, the garters, the nightgowns, because she hates all of those, too.
But mostly, she hates the women who come in, all confidence and self-assurance, pick out their bras and ask questions and offer smiles to her, as if they know.
They can't know, not these women, what it's like to be the outcast among her friends, her classmates, how awkward it is to dress in a locker room where everyone else is small and petite, with no boobs and no hips and nothing to worry about, no weird attention from men. These women are beautiful, attractive, confident - sexy. Everything Sanada wishes she was and everything she knows she's not.
More than that, though, they can't know that Sanada goes home at night and in the darkness of her room, slides her fingers down her body and thinks about those women as she muffles her moans into her pillows.
-
The last thing Sanada wants to happen finally does: someone she knows walks in the store. It's not someone from Rikkai, so she is thankful for that, but nonetheless, Sanada wishes no one had ever discovered the shop.
The older woman must be Fuji Shuu's sister, because she looks too young to be his mother but old enough to not be in school with them. She's another of those curvy women, although her curves are not as generous as the majority of women who come into the shop. She's a marked contrast to Fuji, who is slim and willowy, much like everyone else Sanada seems to know. Exactly how Sanada wishes she were.
She glares at Fuji, who only then notices her; as Sanada watches, she looks her way, eyes opening as though shocked. The glare on Sanada's face deepens and she turns away from Fuji and her sister, angrily returning to folding the fragile silk panties that had been shipped in earlier.
The two eventually make their way to Sanada's corner, Fuji's sister squeezing in next to Sanada to carefully pick through the stacks of panties. "What do you think of these?" she asks Sanada, holding up a pair of panties, sheer things with bows on the side. Delicate and pretty, the image of Fuji's sister wearing them flashes through Sanada's mind and she flushes, turning her attention back to the table.
"They're pretty," she manages to say and tries to go back to folding things, but it's impossible; she can't stand there next to Fuji and her pretty sister and talk and listen to them talk. Sanada quickly turns around, intending to head to the back for a short break. She does manage to stop and mumble out an, "Excuse me" to the two girls standing near her before taking off into the back.
-
Fuji is waiting for her when she finally leaves the shop. It is open until late in the evening, but Sanada rarely closes and she is thankful for that. It gives her a chance to practice on the nearby street courts; late afternoon, there is usually a crowd of people whom she can play against and vent out the frustration she so often feels. Unfortunately, it tends to be mostly guys: teenage boys who look at her with something she doesn't recognize in their eyes; it makes her uncomfortable, until she trounces them on the courts and it morphs into something a little like respect.
Sanada expected that day to go much like the rest of the days before; but Fuji is there, leaning against the wall, nearly hidden in the shade. Sanada doesn't even notice her at first, until Fuji moves away from her shadowed spot and steps out with a smile.
"Sanada-san," she says, inclining her head. "I was wondering if you would like a game of tennis." She has a tennis bag with her, something Sanada hadn't noticed earlier, and she wonders if Fuji made a trip home to get it. It doesn't matter in the end; what matters is that Fuji is there, in front of her. And she is a tennis player, a good one at that, when she decides to take things seriously. Yanagi had once mentioned that Fuji would be a perfect fit to Rikkai, if only she were more dedicated. Yukimura had sighed and drifted into a daydream, one where she had the perfect team and they defeated the world, to judge from the expression on her face. Sanada had said nothing, thought nothing; Fuji was an exceptional player but she would never change just to fit into Rikkai and there was no point in thinking about it.
Fuji stands in front of her now, though, a slight smile on her lips, studying her from beneath long lashes, and offers a game. Sanada is not as tennis driven as Yukimura, so passionate about the game that it drives her every waking and sleeping moment, but she loves it all the same: the racket in her hands, the thud of the ball against the strings, the rush of energy as she plays opposite a decent opponent. The courts are one place where she can forget that she is huge and different. Unlike so many of her peers, Sanada has never dealt with the awkwardness of growth spurts, and it reflects in her tennis. And she hasn't had a decent game since summer started.
"Yes," Sanada says, short and simple. "There are courts nearby; they even have locker rooms." Fuji offers her a pleased smile and motions with her head. Sanada is used to quiet people; she prefers them, most of the time, and the lack of a response doesn't bother her. She continues walking, leading Fuji to the courts a few streets over.
The normal groups of guys are there, tossing balls back and forth, no serious game going on. A few call out greetings to her, but Sanada doesn't stop until she and Fuji reach the locker rooms.
Sanada wears simple clothes while working: a plain blouse, skirt of a decent length, flat sandals. Not clothes that are designed for tennis, just as her underwear are impractical for strenuous activity. It takes her a moment to change. She's used to it; used to hiding her bras, turning her back on friends, using her shirt to change under. It's only Fuji this time, though, and she has to change her plain, boring old lady-like white bra for a proper sports bra, so she doesn't try any of those tricks, simply turns her back on Fuji, and doesn't notice the other girl watching her.
Fuji was already in tennis clothes, so they leave once Sanada changes, and pick a court, one populated only by two guys lazily hitting tennis balls back and forth.
"Stop pretending to actually play," Sanada tells the two guys on the court, "and let us use the court."
"Looking good, Sanada. And you have a friend with you," one of them says, as he picks up the ball he'd let hit the ground rather than return when Sanada spoke. "How about a doubles game, instead?"
"Off the court," Sanada orders, ignoring everything else and focusing only on the court.
"She's too good to play us," the other one says, although he does listen and clears the court. "Hey, Sanada's friend, you should kick her ass for us."
Sanada glares at both of the guys, but they are striding away, although one of them does turn to look back at her. Sanada ignores his look and takes her place opposite Fuji.
-
The game doesn't stretch on for hours, which Sanada is thankful for, but is still a good game: she wins, but only barely. It leaves her relaxed, comfortable, and she lingers over undressing when she returns to the locker room.
"You must not shop at the place you work,' Fuji says and Sanada turns to her, surprise in her eyes that Fuji would even mention it. It doesn't matter to her that she mostly naked, dressed only in a pair of panties, and that Fuji, oddly, has started to undress as well.
"Excuse me?" Sanada asks, her voice sharp. No one has actually ever said anything about her bras to her face and it's unsettling.
"You work in one of the most exclusive lingerie shops in the area," Fuji tells her, "yet insist upon wearing the most boring bras." She reaches out, pulls the bra from Sanada's stiff fingers, and looks at it. "It's not because this is the only thing you can find to support your boobs, I'm sure. There are plenty of things in this size where you work."
Sanada can feel the blood rushing up her body, flushing her skin red. It occurs to her that she is standing in front of someone half naked and crosses her arms across her chest. The gesture isn't lost on Fuji.
"Have you never looked for anything?" she asks, her voice dropping. She's closer than Sanada realized, leaning into Sanada's personal space, so close Sanada can feel the heat of her skin.
"Of course I've looked at the bras they have!" Sanada snaps at her, leaning back, trying to get away from how indecently close Fuji is to her. "I do work there."
"You might work there and see them, but do you really see them?" Fuji asks, reaching out to brush her fingers over Sanada's arms, trailing up to brush the cleavage so enticingly revealed by her crossed arms. "Do you picture yourself dressing in any of them? Thought about what your breasts might look like, wrapped in lace and silk?"
The words, spoken in Fuji's soft voice, makes Sanada's knees weak and she almost breaks down and confides in Fuji that, yes, she's thought about it. Too often, in fact. But then Fuji's fingers trails down the top of her breasts and she stiffens, remembering exactly who she's with and where they are at. "Stop talking about such things," she orders, reaching out to brush Fuji's hands away. It requires her to move her arms, however, and Fuji is too fast for her: once she's moved her hands, Fuji grabs them, pinning them down to her side.
Fuji's eyes are wide open, studying her; something similar to the look that the boys had lingers in her eyes and it makes Sanada shift uncomfortably, knowledge seeping in. Its desire, something Sanada never thought to apply to her own body.
"You don't really see them, do you?" Fuji asks softly, barely a whisper, and before Sanada can do anything, leans in, touching the tip of her tongue to a nipple.
It makes Sanada cry out, a jolt of pleasure running through her. She's never considered her breasts as something erotic before - but then, she tires very firmly to keep her mind away from that subject anyway. Fuji's touch brings it into startling clarity though and Sanada thinks she might understand why women would want to wear something besides plain white bras and panties.
"Everyone watches you. In the locker rooms, on the courts," Fuji murmurs, and touches her tongue to Sanada's nipple again, swirling her tongue around it this time, lavishing attention on first one nipple than another. Sanada stiffens at the worlds, trying to fight the sensations rushing through her. She doesn't want to hear about anyone watching her, mocking her for her breasts and her hips and everything else. "And not in the way you're thinking. They watch you because they want you."
Fuji cups Sanada's breasts, pushing them together. Fuji's hands are small, but Sanada can feel the strength in them and she gasps and arches back when Fuji pushes them together, pressing her face against them. "They want to do this. I've wanted to do this."
She lets go, sliding one hand down Sanada's stomach to her hip and pushes Sanada back with the other, making her fall against the lockers. The lock on one of them presses firmly against her back, but Sanada doesn't care. Fuji's mouth is on her nipple, suckling, and her fingers are sneaking their way into her panties and down, gliding over her slit and pushing between her lips.
Sanada masturbates, same as everyone she knows, but this is different; strange fingers flick over her clit, slowly and languishing a little, teasing more than Sanada would tease herself. And Fuji's mouth is still around her breast, licking and sucking and twisting her tongue around Sanada's nipple. It's intoxicating, the attention Fuji is lavishing on her breasts, and Sanada doesn't know what to do with her, other than give in. For the first time, her breasts are not the source of a private shame, but pleasure: and a pleasure that heightens everything, especially when Fuji scrapes her teeth across Sanada's nipple. The sensation of that makes her shudder and gasp, hands coming up to cling to Fuji.
Fuji's fingers slid in her when Fuji moves from one breast to the other, treating it to the same attention, her tongue teasing with slow, tantalizing licks. She curls her fingers inside Sanada, pushing in as far as she can go and pulling out slowly, her movements designed to drive Sanada crazy.
It works, too well.
Between the attention Fuji is lavishing on her breasts and the fingers working between her legs so expertly, Sanada can't even see straight. Her eyes are closed, head thrown back and quiet whimpers escaping her. The sensations are almost too much for her; the pressure builds up inside, hovering just out of reach until Sanada is ready to beg. She's caught in a maelstrom of emotions she can't even describe. It's nothing like masturbating, something done in private, in the dark, with her face pressed into a pillow so she can't be heard, something secret and almost shameful. This, instead, is glorious and refreshing; there is no shame in it, and even the parts Sanada thought she might object to, like the attention on her breasts, are enjoyable.
Fuji flicks her thumb against her clit and bites down, sharply, almost painfully, on Sanada's nipple, her free hand finding her other breasts and squeezing and the combination of pain and pleasure that flares through her body pushes Sanada over the edge. She comes around Fuji's fingers with a yell, unable to prevent herself from making any noises and not entirely sure she'd want to.
When Sanada finally opens her eyes, straightening up and finally moving away from the locker, Fuji is still standing close to her, watching her with sharp, intense eyes. "You should buy a few bras from that shop you work in," she tells Sanada. "They'll be worth it."
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Sanada Genichirou and Fuji Syuusuke, both genderswapped
Rating: R
Notes: Girl!au. Originally intended to be part of the biker gang!au, but it just didn't work out. Based, partially, on the prompt: Sanada/Fuji - bad example of a lady, from both Em and Noey. ~2700 words.
Sanada hates her job. It's a horrible thing, folding panties and hanging up bras all day long, but her mother knows the owner and when a position came up, decided it was time for Sanada to get a part time job during the summer.
"Besides, Gen," her mother said, "maybe you can pick up a few things at discount that are in your.... size."
Sanada knows her parents aren't pleased about her developing body and the fact that her bras tend to run more expensive; she's not pleased with it either, especially when it means she wears bras that are more suited to her mother's generation than the pretty things her classmates wear.
The lingerie shop is tasteful and expensive, not the type of place most of her peers would visit and Sanada is thankful that; no one she knows will see her. Nor is it the type of place women with wild tastes would visit, so she runs no risk of seeing anything indecent, beyond the lacy teddies and sheer nightgowns.
The shop also has bras - pretty ones, of silk and lace and sheer materials - that fit her; has panties that don't look boring and are designed for women with hips. And the more Sanada folds them, hangs them, watches women - women with breasts that make hers seem small, curving hips, small waists, long legs, pretty smiles - pick them out, the more she hates them. Hates the pretty bras, with the white lace and pink rosettes and black silk and wild leopard prints; hates the ruffles on the panties, the thongs and the bikinis and the matching sleepwear. She doesn't even look at the teddies, the camisoles, the garters, the nightgowns, because she hates all of those, too.
But mostly, she hates the women who come in, all confidence and self-assurance, pick out their bras and ask questions and offer smiles to her, as if they know.
They can't know, not these women, what it's like to be the outcast among her friends, her classmates, how awkward it is to dress in a locker room where everyone else is small and petite, with no boobs and no hips and nothing to worry about, no weird attention from men. These women are beautiful, attractive, confident - sexy. Everything Sanada wishes she was and everything she knows she's not.
More than that, though, they can't know that Sanada goes home at night and in the darkness of her room, slides her fingers down her body and thinks about those women as she muffles her moans into her pillows.
-
The last thing Sanada wants to happen finally does: someone she knows walks in the store. It's not someone from Rikkai, so she is thankful for that, but nonetheless, Sanada wishes no one had ever discovered the shop.
The older woman must be Fuji Shuu's sister, because she looks too young to be his mother but old enough to not be in school with them. She's another of those curvy women, although her curves are not as generous as the majority of women who come into the shop. She's a marked contrast to Fuji, who is slim and willowy, much like everyone else Sanada seems to know. Exactly how Sanada wishes she were.
She glares at Fuji, who only then notices her; as Sanada watches, she looks her way, eyes opening as though shocked. The glare on Sanada's face deepens and she turns away from Fuji and her sister, angrily returning to folding the fragile silk panties that had been shipped in earlier.
The two eventually make their way to Sanada's corner, Fuji's sister squeezing in next to Sanada to carefully pick through the stacks of panties. "What do you think of these?" she asks Sanada, holding up a pair of panties, sheer things with bows on the side. Delicate and pretty, the image of Fuji's sister wearing them flashes through Sanada's mind and she flushes, turning her attention back to the table.
"They're pretty," she manages to say and tries to go back to folding things, but it's impossible; she can't stand there next to Fuji and her pretty sister and talk and listen to them talk. Sanada quickly turns around, intending to head to the back for a short break. She does manage to stop and mumble out an, "Excuse me" to the two girls standing near her before taking off into the back.
-
Fuji is waiting for her when she finally leaves the shop. It is open until late in the evening, but Sanada rarely closes and she is thankful for that. It gives her a chance to practice on the nearby street courts; late afternoon, there is usually a crowd of people whom she can play against and vent out the frustration she so often feels. Unfortunately, it tends to be mostly guys: teenage boys who look at her with something she doesn't recognize in their eyes; it makes her uncomfortable, until she trounces them on the courts and it morphs into something a little like respect.
Sanada expected that day to go much like the rest of the days before; but Fuji is there, leaning against the wall, nearly hidden in the shade. Sanada doesn't even notice her at first, until Fuji moves away from her shadowed spot and steps out with a smile.
"Sanada-san," she says, inclining her head. "I was wondering if you would like a game of tennis." She has a tennis bag with her, something Sanada hadn't noticed earlier, and she wonders if Fuji made a trip home to get it. It doesn't matter in the end; what matters is that Fuji is there, in front of her. And she is a tennis player, a good one at that, when she decides to take things seriously. Yanagi had once mentioned that Fuji would be a perfect fit to Rikkai, if only she were more dedicated. Yukimura had sighed and drifted into a daydream, one where she had the perfect team and they defeated the world, to judge from the expression on her face. Sanada had said nothing, thought nothing; Fuji was an exceptional player but she would never change just to fit into Rikkai and there was no point in thinking about it.
Fuji stands in front of her now, though, a slight smile on her lips, studying her from beneath long lashes, and offers a game. Sanada is not as tennis driven as Yukimura, so passionate about the game that it drives her every waking and sleeping moment, but she loves it all the same: the racket in her hands, the thud of the ball against the strings, the rush of energy as she plays opposite a decent opponent. The courts are one place where she can forget that she is huge and different. Unlike so many of her peers, Sanada has never dealt with the awkwardness of growth spurts, and it reflects in her tennis. And she hasn't had a decent game since summer started.
"Yes," Sanada says, short and simple. "There are courts nearby; they even have locker rooms." Fuji offers her a pleased smile and motions with her head. Sanada is used to quiet people; she prefers them, most of the time, and the lack of a response doesn't bother her. She continues walking, leading Fuji to the courts a few streets over.
The normal groups of guys are there, tossing balls back and forth, no serious game going on. A few call out greetings to her, but Sanada doesn't stop until she and Fuji reach the locker rooms.
Sanada wears simple clothes while working: a plain blouse, skirt of a decent length, flat sandals. Not clothes that are designed for tennis, just as her underwear are impractical for strenuous activity. It takes her a moment to change. She's used to it; used to hiding her bras, turning her back on friends, using her shirt to change under. It's only Fuji this time, though, and she has to change her plain, boring old lady-like white bra for a proper sports bra, so she doesn't try any of those tricks, simply turns her back on Fuji, and doesn't notice the other girl watching her.
Fuji was already in tennis clothes, so they leave once Sanada changes, and pick a court, one populated only by two guys lazily hitting tennis balls back and forth.
"Stop pretending to actually play," Sanada tells the two guys on the court, "and let us use the court."
"Looking good, Sanada. And you have a friend with you," one of them says, as he picks up the ball he'd let hit the ground rather than return when Sanada spoke. "How about a doubles game, instead?"
"Off the court," Sanada orders, ignoring everything else and focusing only on the court.
"She's too good to play us," the other one says, although he does listen and clears the court. "Hey, Sanada's friend, you should kick her ass for us."
Sanada glares at both of the guys, but they are striding away, although one of them does turn to look back at her. Sanada ignores his look and takes her place opposite Fuji.
-
The game doesn't stretch on for hours, which Sanada is thankful for, but is still a good game: she wins, but only barely. It leaves her relaxed, comfortable, and she lingers over undressing when she returns to the locker room.
"You must not shop at the place you work,' Fuji says and Sanada turns to her, surprise in her eyes that Fuji would even mention it. It doesn't matter to her that she mostly naked, dressed only in a pair of panties, and that Fuji, oddly, has started to undress as well.
"Excuse me?" Sanada asks, her voice sharp. No one has actually ever said anything about her bras to her face and it's unsettling.
"You work in one of the most exclusive lingerie shops in the area," Fuji tells her, "yet insist upon wearing the most boring bras." She reaches out, pulls the bra from Sanada's stiff fingers, and looks at it. "It's not because this is the only thing you can find to support your boobs, I'm sure. There are plenty of things in this size where you work."
Sanada can feel the blood rushing up her body, flushing her skin red. It occurs to her that she is standing in front of someone half naked and crosses her arms across her chest. The gesture isn't lost on Fuji.
"Have you never looked for anything?" she asks, her voice dropping. She's closer than Sanada realized, leaning into Sanada's personal space, so close Sanada can feel the heat of her skin.
"Of course I've looked at the bras they have!" Sanada snaps at her, leaning back, trying to get away from how indecently close Fuji is to her. "I do work there."
"You might work there and see them, but do you really see them?" Fuji asks, reaching out to brush her fingers over Sanada's arms, trailing up to brush the cleavage so enticingly revealed by her crossed arms. "Do you picture yourself dressing in any of them? Thought about what your breasts might look like, wrapped in lace and silk?"
The words, spoken in Fuji's soft voice, makes Sanada's knees weak and she almost breaks down and confides in Fuji that, yes, she's thought about it. Too often, in fact. But then Fuji's fingers trails down the top of her breasts and she stiffens, remembering exactly who she's with and where they are at. "Stop talking about such things," she orders, reaching out to brush Fuji's hands away. It requires her to move her arms, however, and Fuji is too fast for her: once she's moved her hands, Fuji grabs them, pinning them down to her side.
Fuji's eyes are wide open, studying her; something similar to the look that the boys had lingers in her eyes and it makes Sanada shift uncomfortably, knowledge seeping in. Its desire, something Sanada never thought to apply to her own body.
"You don't really see them, do you?" Fuji asks softly, barely a whisper, and before Sanada can do anything, leans in, touching the tip of her tongue to a nipple.
It makes Sanada cry out, a jolt of pleasure running through her. She's never considered her breasts as something erotic before - but then, she tires very firmly to keep her mind away from that subject anyway. Fuji's touch brings it into startling clarity though and Sanada thinks she might understand why women would want to wear something besides plain white bras and panties.
"Everyone watches you. In the locker rooms, on the courts," Fuji murmurs, and touches her tongue to Sanada's nipple again, swirling her tongue around it this time, lavishing attention on first one nipple than another. Sanada stiffens at the worlds, trying to fight the sensations rushing through her. She doesn't want to hear about anyone watching her, mocking her for her breasts and her hips and everything else. "And not in the way you're thinking. They watch you because they want you."
Fuji cups Sanada's breasts, pushing them together. Fuji's hands are small, but Sanada can feel the strength in them and she gasps and arches back when Fuji pushes them together, pressing her face against them. "They want to do this. I've wanted to do this."
She lets go, sliding one hand down Sanada's stomach to her hip and pushes Sanada back with the other, making her fall against the lockers. The lock on one of them presses firmly against her back, but Sanada doesn't care. Fuji's mouth is on her nipple, suckling, and her fingers are sneaking their way into her panties and down, gliding over her slit and pushing between her lips.
Sanada masturbates, same as everyone she knows, but this is different; strange fingers flick over her clit, slowly and languishing a little, teasing more than Sanada would tease herself. And Fuji's mouth is still around her breast, licking and sucking and twisting her tongue around Sanada's nipple. It's intoxicating, the attention Fuji is lavishing on her breasts, and Sanada doesn't know what to do with her, other than give in. For the first time, her breasts are not the source of a private shame, but pleasure: and a pleasure that heightens everything, especially when Fuji scrapes her teeth across Sanada's nipple. The sensation of that makes her shudder and gasp, hands coming up to cling to Fuji.
Fuji's fingers slid in her when Fuji moves from one breast to the other, treating it to the same attention, her tongue teasing with slow, tantalizing licks. She curls her fingers inside Sanada, pushing in as far as she can go and pulling out slowly, her movements designed to drive Sanada crazy.
It works, too well.
Between the attention Fuji is lavishing on her breasts and the fingers working between her legs so expertly, Sanada can't even see straight. Her eyes are closed, head thrown back and quiet whimpers escaping her. The sensations are almost too much for her; the pressure builds up inside, hovering just out of reach until Sanada is ready to beg. She's caught in a maelstrom of emotions she can't even describe. It's nothing like masturbating, something done in private, in the dark, with her face pressed into a pillow so she can't be heard, something secret and almost shameful. This, instead, is glorious and refreshing; there is no shame in it, and even the parts Sanada thought she might object to, like the attention on her breasts, are enjoyable.
Fuji flicks her thumb against her clit and bites down, sharply, almost painfully, on Sanada's nipple, her free hand finding her other breasts and squeezing and the combination of pain and pleasure that flares through her body pushes Sanada over the edge. She comes around Fuji's fingers with a yell, unable to prevent herself from making any noises and not entirely sure she'd want to.
When Sanada finally opens her eyes, straightening up and finally moving away from the locker, Fuji is still standing close to her, watching her with sharp, intense eyes. "You should buy a few bras from that shop you work in," she tells Sanada. "They'll be worth it."