Nabiki followed her sisters. Her kimono was plainer than theirs, her first real one. It had belonged to Yukiko and Sakura before her. They had each worn it proudly, as she did now.
“Here, Nabiki,” Yukiko said to her. “Enter this booth.” Sakura began giggling as soon as she and Yukiko had stopped.
“Why?” she asked, curious at their response.
“Because you’re a woman now.”
Trusting her sisters, Nabiki entered the booth, silk curtain falling behind her.
“Another of Genma’s daughters,” the man in the booth said. “Lovely as her sisters. Come here, child.”
He began easing her kimono open. At first Nabiki struggled, but the man put his mouth to her neck. Then she could smell his musk. Clouding her mind, he became more handsome, more alluring. She had only just begun enjoying touching herself, but after inhaling his scent, it seemed all her skin prickled and tingled. Every brush of his fingers sent her awareness further from the festival to focus on his mouth, his fingers, the rod prodding her thigh. She was naive to that, but in that moment, knew what she wanted to do with it, knew instinctively where it should go.
“Yes, child. That’s it.”