Yes

Junko was in the laundry room. Makoto didn't know why she decided to go there, but that was where she was. She turned around when they entered.

"Oh, hey Makoto! Hey Kyoko! I like your dress. What's, uh, up?"

Kyoko smiled, and looked down.

"We were wondering if you could do a favour for us," Makoto said.

"Hm, what is it?"

"Um, we were wondering if you would, er, model this for us?" Makoto held out the outfit. Junko stared at it, her face was, quite suddenly, bright red.

"That?" she asked, "That's... barely anything..."

The action did say that some would take some convincing. But Makoto was doing what he had to do.

"Please," he said, "I think you'd look really good in it."

"I...I..."

"You're a model, right? Go on, you should try modeling this."

Junko looked between the two of them, growing redder and redder, "Hm, I... I... I don't know... in front of you... maybe... but..."

Her eyes fell to Kyoko. Makoto looked to her too.

"Oh," Kyoko said, "If you want me to leave, I will."

"Are you sure?" Makoto asked.

"If it makes her uncomfortable..."

"Well, wait for me, okay?" Makoto told her, "I'll be back soon."

Kyoko nodded, and left the room. Makoto turned back to Junko.

"So...?"

Junko fidgeted. "Let's go back to my room," she mumbled, "It may be more... private there."

Makoto had the inkling that Junko might actually like it better in public, but it was better not to tease her too much. He just nodded, and followed her along.

Junko locked her door behind him. Her room smelt strongly of cheap perfume and male deodorant. Junko pulled the outfit from Makoto.

"I'm going to go... get changed," She said, still red. She walked into her bathroom, and locked the door. Makoto sat down on her desk chair, and waited.

It took Junko a while to get changed, but eventually, the door opened slowly, and she quietly creeped out. Makoto stared at her. She was incredibly muscular, for a model, she must've worked out a lot. The skirt barely covered her upper thighs, and the shirt barely looked like it was keeping her tits in. The top cut across each breast, making it impossible for her to wear a bra, and though her bust was noticeably smaller, it was still ample.

It was revealing, but considering as nothing had happened yet, it wasn't revealing enough.

"It's so skimpy," Junko said, quietly, "I feel... so exposed. Do you like it?"

It was subtle, but Junko's thighs rubbed together. And Makoto had a sudden idea. A solution. If he was right to his guesses of Junko's kinks, it might be exactly what he needed. It surprised him how desensitised he'd become to perverted things. Actually, it wasn't that surprising.

"Junko," he said, "Take your panties off."

Junko's eyes went wide, and her thighs pressed together tightly.

"But-!"

She could barely maintain eye contact, but her hands, trembling, were already trailing up her thighs. Junko bit her lip as she reached underneath her skirt, and then her panties were slowly sliding down her clenched legs. Junko whimpered as she pulled them further down, and Makoto didn't think he could look away. Even from a distance, he could see the wet patch on them.

Junko stopped once her panties were at her knees, only held up by her clenched legs, and looked up at him.

"Are you sure?" she breathily asked.

"If it's what you want to do."

Junko took a deep breath, and the smallest moan came out. Then, she moved her legs apart, and the panties hit the floor.

Suddenly every single movement of Junko's skirt made Makoto's pulse rise. Just the thought of it shifting higher, too high, high enough for Makoto to see something. Junko took a step forward, and her fingers played with her hem. He wanted it to move, to lift, just a little, just to let him take a peek.

But Junko stopped.

"Action Successful. Trigger unlocked: Designer's Muse. Clean up time: 10 minutes."

Makoto moved quickly. He pulled Junko over to the bed and sat her down on it. But putting her panties on for her whilst she wasn't aware didn't seem like the best option, so instead Makoto stashed them away. He then turned to his handbook to check the new trigger.

Designer's Muse (Passive) - You've got a new model! She'll always be super excited to see and show off for you.

(2) Junko Enoshima - Get her to model a sex toy (Red).

Makoto thought that was... certainly something. He didn't know how that was going to play out. He thought he should leave Junko to her own devices, but something compelled him to stay. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was sitting there with nothing but a short tennis skirt on, and that if he just lifted it up, he could....

No. He couldn't. But he couldn't make himself leave, either. So he waited out the ten minutes until Junko came to.

"Wait," she said, "Why the hell am I- what the hell am I wearing- and why am I wet- ah!!!"

She squealed, jumping to her feet, "Makoto!"

"Sorry!" Makoto jumped up, trying to think of a good lie, "You weren't uh, feeling well, we- I took you back here, it was, it was, it.... um..."

Junko was flushed a deep red, and her hands were covering the front of her skirt. But instead of panicking, she giggled.

"Hey, Makoto!" she said, still sounding embarrassed, but more teasing, "This outfit's so embarrassing, but you like it, don't you? You like seeing me in this."

It was at that point that Makoto noticed just how wet Junko was. It was starting to drip down her thighs. Was this what the trigger meant by excited?

Junko was walking towards him, and each movement of her legs shifted the skirt, and each time Makoto lamented the cloth for keeping him away from what he wanted.

"Wanna know a secret, Makoto?" Junko asked, playing with her hem again.

"S-sure."

Junko leant in and whispered into his ear. Her voice was almost drowned out by his heartbeat, by the feeling of all his blood rushing to his... well...

"I'm not wearing any panties," Junko said, with a laugh. She pulled back, and this time, her fingers wrapped around her hem with confidence.

"Wanna see?" she asked.