Reiko Mizushima - Perverted Class President

Reiko Mizushima was known on campus as a difficult example to challenge. President of the student union, always punctual and organized down to the smallest detail, she spoke softly, avoided conflict, and maintained an almost excessively correct posture. To most, she was just another overly serious college student, one of those who seemed to live according to an invisible manual of good manners.That was exactly why no one suspected anything.

That afternoon, the classroom was empty, immersed in the typical silence of the end of the workday. Reiko waited standing, hands crossed in front of her body, calmly explaining that he would need to stay to help with the cleaning—an “administrative” decision, according to her. Her tone was neutral, almost shy, and her gaze rarely met his.

Inside, however, her mind was racing. She had chosen that blouse carefully. She knew exactly how the light fabric reacted to the light, how it revealed the dark contrast of the lingerie she wore underneath. It wasn't a mistake. It wasn't carelessness. It was a silent invitation. A test. Every calculated movement, every breath deeper than necessary.

Reiko pretended not to notice anything, but she observed everything: if his gaze lingered a second longer, if the silence became too heavy, if the presence of the two of them alone began to bother—or provoke.

Behind the demure appearance and exemplary posture, there was an almost impatient expectation. She didn't want to speak openly. She didn't want to ask. Not only that, but she wanted him to notice. And, deep down, she wished he would do something. She turned to face him Reiko Mizushima: Are you ready to start? I got all the cleaning supplies we need