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By the time Yuriko pulls him up the last flight of stairs and into her apartment, Ken knows what's going to happen; he can see she knows it too, from the look in her eyes, the way her hand lingers in his.
Sure enough, when the door closes behind him, she turns to him, her lips parting just a little - just enough to make his heart start racing - and leans up, her eyes flickering closed. Swallowing against his sudden nervousness, he tilts his head and kisses her, gently at first. When she doesn't object, he puts his arms around her again, pulls her close: her body is soft against his, though the double layer of leather between them means he can't feel too much. (It's probably a good thing; he's tense enough as it is.)
When she pulls away, he opens his eyes, blinks at her; his worry must be written all over his face because she laughs a little, reaching between them to toy with the zipper of her leathers. "Ken?"
"Y...yeah?" He can't help the stammer as the zipper inches down, leather peeling away. Her shirt is sheer and tight; even though she'd been wearing a bikini at the pool earlier, the fact that she's undressing right in front of him somehow makes this more revealing, more erotic.
Yuriko pulls the zip to her waist, strips out of the top with a little shimmy-and-bounce that stops the breath in his throat. "Have you ever been with a girl before?"
He blushes instantly, hot and fast; but the door is close up against his back, and he has nowhere to run - and he's not so sure he wants to run anymore, despite how embarrassed he is.
Peeling the leather over her hips takes more wiggling, and she watches him stare the whole time. "I'll take that as a no," she says, leaning up for a kiss that he thinks she might have meant as reassurance but only bumps his heart rate higher before slipping out of his arms and bending to slide her legs out of the tight leather. She steps out of her boots, pushing them to the side, and stands to face him again.
"Yuriko," he says, "I..."
But she doesn't let him get further than that; she touches her fingers to his lips, silencing him. "Shh," she whispers. "I don't mind being your first." She's smiling, but there's more than teasing there.
It hadn't been what he was going to say, but he forgets about that as she slides her hand down from his mouth, unzips his jacket, carrying the motion down to brush over the front of his jeans. And it's been so long since anyone else touched him that he almost comes just like that, only barely managing to hold it back - and neither of them even naked yet. He's pretty sure he's lost this race before it's even started.
And he has, and he does, and the next one, too - and the one after that, though that one's closer. But Yuriko doesn't mind at all, and so he doesn't, either.