"Ugh... Ryouta, I knew it..."
"W-What? Don't stare so much!"
I had fallen right into Yuria's trap. Following the Cultural Festival, I was being forced into cross-dressing once again.
"That maid outfit actually suits you perfectly."
"S-Shut up!"
To make matters worse, this time... it was the exact same maid outfit as Yuria's.
I was stuck wearing a thin, frilly black dress with a white apron. For some reason, she'd even prepared a blonde "noble lady" wig with vertical ringlets, topped off with a white headband.
No matter how many times I wore one, I could never get used to the feeling of a skirt. It felt breezy, leaving my "equipment" downstairs feeling dangerously exposed.
(This is the absolute worst... I was looking forward to a libido-driven cosplay session today, but I never expected to get hit with a counter-attack like this.)
"You don't have much leg hair to begin with, Ryouta, so you're actually a natural at cross-dressing. Oh, let me know if it starts growing back, okay? I’ll clean it up with hair removal cream like I did for the Cultural Festival."
"I'm never stripping for you again!" I shouted, sounding like Z-ro after losing to Mi-hawk. Smooth legs were a mark of shame for a man.
"Haha, man, that was a good laugh. Now that I’ve got some embarrassing photos of you, we can treat your maid cosplay as just a bit of fun."
"Just a bit of fun...?"
"Anyway, what do you think of my maid outfit? To be honest, it’s actually pretty embarrassing."
While I’d been changing in Yuria's Room, she had followed through on her promise and put on her own outfit in the otaku room.
It was a frilly black-and-white number just like mine, but the difference in volume was night and day.
The chest area was packed tight; even with the frills, I could see how stretched the fabric was. And then there were the thighs—no, the massive thighs—protruding from the hem of the short skirt.
Her left and right thighs were pressed together so tightly they seemed to be competing for space. It looked like even the slightest sway of her skirt would reveal everything.
"Hey, Ryouta. You're staring at my legs a bit too much."
"..."
"Hellooo? Ryouta! Are you even listening? This isn't an art gallery."
"Gah! S-Sorry, Yuria. I just got so excited I lost my words."
"H-Huh? You really are... well, I guess it’s exactly what I expected from you."
Yuria looked exasperated, but her cheeks were tinged with red.
I’d suspected it for a while now, but it seemed Yuria actually liked it when I praised her thighs. What kind of kink was that?
"Your thighs really are giga-massive, Yuria. Seriously, this level of eroticism would have gotten you banned from the Cultural Festival."
"I wasn't banned!"
"Um... can I take some photos?"
"Why the sudden polite speech? Well, fine, I guess. Just don't get too close with the low angles."
"Yahoo!"
I whipped my smartphone out of the apron pocket and started snapping cosplay photos to my heart's content.
This was it... This was a literal "thigh buffet." An all-you-can-see, all-you-can-shoot buffet of Spank Bank Material. And best of all, there was no time limit.
"Yuria! Can you sit in that chair over there? I want to capture how your thighs spread out horizontally!"
"Sigh... fine. Honestly, Ryouta, you're way too into... mine. There are plenty of other girls with big thighs."
"It has to be yours! No one else will do!"
"Wait... why?"
"There isn't another girl on the planet who's as cute as you, has a chest as big as yours, and has thighs this massive on top of it all! To me, you're one of a kind!"
"Y-You're being way too passionate about this. I get it, I get it already. If you like me that much... here, just take more photos."
"Yuria... Oh, yes!"
As I poured my soul into my love for her thighs, it seemed I’d finally reached her.
Wait... looking at the mood, wouldn't she let me touch them again?
Ever since that incident on the bus, she’d been strangely okay with me touching her thighs. I definitely wanted to feel them again today.
I swallowed hard and tucked my phone back into my pocket.
"H-Hey, Yuria."
"What's up? Why the serious face all of a sudden?"
"U-Um... would you let me touch your thi—"
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-doooong!
Just as I was about to make my move, the intercom cut me off like a physical blow.
"Dammit... a visitor now? Yuria, are you trying to force another costume on me?"
"No, no! I seriously don't know who it is this time!"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure! What happened to all that trust you had when you were lecturing me about my thighs a second ago!?"
Completely consumed by paranoia, I kept my eyes glued to her thighs while we talked. Sorry, but these thighs are the only thing in this world I can truly believe in.
"Wait. That way of ringing the bell..."
"What is it? Someone you know?"
"Y-Yeah... sorry, Ryouta! Close your eyes for a second!"
"Eh? Oh, okay."
I shut my eyes as instructed.
Wait... that sound of rustling fabric... No way!
"Yu-Yuria!? Don't tell me you're—!"
"I'm changing! If you open your eyes even a crack, I'll kill you!"
"You're changing right now?! Can I look?!"
"I said no! I'll literally gouge your eyes out!"
"Ah, right. Sorry."
With a speed that rivaled a stylish quick-change from a certain Like a Dragon game, Yuria had swapped back into her usual casual look: her massive-thigh hot pants outfit.
"Ryouta, don't leave this room! Got it?"
With that, she hurried out of the room.
Did someone she actually knew really show up?
Well, it was probably just another trap to mess with me. Another costume or something.
At least, that’s what I told myself.