Train Ride

BY : c0p13r
Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 13068
Disclaimer: i don't own 'bleach', and i make no money from this fic

Train Ride: Riruka Version

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Random Ichigo/Riruka PWP.  On their way back to base from a grocery run, Ichigo and Riruka are tightly packed on a train.  And Riruka’s ill-guided and provocative shuffling against Ichigo isn’t making things less hard.

Tags: Fetish(public), Fingering, Handjob, M/F, Oral

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            “Hurry up!  Jeez, you’re slow!” snapped Riruka, halfway through the door of the train.  A small, light, plastic bag hung from her hands, and while this was a grocery errand, the contents within were specifically for her; little jewelry trinkets that she insisted/demanded that they buy from a neighboring store of the market.

            Just barely stepping onto the platform, Ichigo was weighed down by numerous bags filled with an assortment of foods.  Normally, such a load was nothing to him, but after so many rigorous training exercises with hulking pigs and loud-mouthed chickens, his muscles were worn and sore.

            He seethed at Riruka as he approached.  “You’re the one who picked out so many melons, and then walked off before I could finish paying!”

            “Hmph!  Stop making excuses,” Riruka snapped back.  She let him walk in first before following.  “It makes you sound like a loser.”  Ichigo flushed with anger, cursing raggedly at her as the doors to the train closed.

            It wasn’t until the shutters slid shut and the train was on its way that Ichigo realized how cramped he was.  There was some room to move, but he was close to feeling like a sardine.  He couldn’t even set his bags down without crushing someone’s toes.  And in front of him, Riruka had ample space.  He wasn’t about to invade, however; she was always so upset when he got close to her.

            The next stop didn’t make anything better.  More people got on than off, and Ichigo was feeling far more suffocated than before.  Even Riruka was shoved from her comfortable space until her back was nearly flush with Ichigo’s chest.  At their closeness, Ichigo tensed nervously.  He stood erect, keeping his nose from nuzzling her fuzzy hat.  What he could not help, though, were the unbalancing motions of the fast-moving train that often made him bump into her.  At first, she verbally warned him to stop, to which he quietly murmured that it wasn’t his fault; he couldn’t even grab one of the roof-railing’s tassels to help steady himself.  After those verbal warnings, Riruka audaciously smacked him in the nose.  Boiling with rage, but not about to do anything about it, he swore at her.

            Why’d they had to travel so far out of town for shopping?  Ichigo had asked that before, and Riruka snidely said that the best ingredients were four towns over.  Therefore, the two of Xcution had to put up with these intimate travel conditions.  Really, Ichigo wasn’t even supposed to accompany Riruka on this excursion, but she insisted since it was her turn to do the shopping.

            Cramped and more cramped with every stop…  Three more until they arrived at the Naruki City platform.  Hopefully, it wouldn’t be any more than fifteen minutes.

            Ichigo hadn’t noticed until he felt something squirm; Riruka was pressed snugly up against him.  He blinked.  She must’ve felt so crowded that she’d rather be against him than brushing arms with these fat and old or lanky and awkward-looking businessmen.  Still, Ichigo wanted to break the contact between them and tried to scoot back.  The moment his slightly-lifted heel eased back down to the floor, the man behind him irately grumbled at him for stepping on his shoe.  Ichigo could do without the attitude; if there was anyone on that train who had the right to be upset and snarky, it was him!  He was the one with a heavy load that he had no room to set down; the one most-squashed in the train car; the one accompanied by a snobby princess-type who degraded him every step of the way.

            Riruka’s head suddenly turned her head.  Her big eyes were narrowed as she glared at him.  “Don’t think that me standing this close to you means I want to be near you,” she snidely told him.

            Ichigo scowled at her.  He knew that the space between them was tight, but he hadn’t thought much of it.  Only when she’d said anything did he notice how often his chest brushed her back; or her rump bumped against his thigh.  He would try to ignore it…  “I wasn’t thinking that,” he grumbled, though in hindsight, it wasn’t exactly the wisest thing to do by contradicting Riruka; he should’ve just known to keep his mouth shut and let the princess blabber whatever nonsense she wanted.

            “Eh~?  Don’t try lying,” she warned him.  A little louder, and everyone around him would be assuming he was a pervert intentionally grinding against female passengers.  Intentionally, adding to Ichigo’s sudden discomfort and realization of how the situation was totally in her control, Riruka leaned back into him, pressing her body flush to his.  He gulped loudly, for her backside was felt very intimately.  The short skirt defined the curves and dips of her waist; the cleft of her behind was neatly nestled against his groin.

            The urge to argue with her was erased from Ichigo’s mind.  He now simply hoped that she would pull away before some uncontrollable part of his started to respond to her provocation.  His eyes darted left to right, and he could take solace that none of these miserable-looking people paid much attention to two teenagers pressing snugly together.  With the flamboyancy of today’s generation, it was commonplace for these crazy kids to be flaunting themselves groping one another.

            “I bet you’re sniffing my hair right now,” he heard Riruka chortle – and he could not lie by saying she was wrong; her shampoo was taken in with every breath whether he wanted to or not.

            Blood was running hot and fast through his veins.  His hands were beginning to shake.  Was that Riruka’s hand pinching at his thigh?  A glance down told him that it was!  Why was she so intent on teasing him?  Her ginger-yet-persistent touches were affecting him.  He wanted to tell her to stop, but again, arguing with Riruka was unlikely to bode well.

            He could count down from a hundred, recite the ABCs, and imagine limp noodles, but nothing could stop the reaction that Riruka coaxed.  The swelling began, tightening his jeans.  He seethed softly.  His pride as a reserved man was nothing in Riruka’s presence, even if he found her attitude utterly annoying.

            “Ngh…!”  He winced.  She knew just what she was doing, he realized with dread.  She was pinching – lightly – along the length of his shaft, so brazen for someone who’d just accused him of doing perverted and creepy things.  He knew he should have pulled away, but… too cramped…  When he edged just an inch back, Riruka’s hand chased him.

            “Hmph!  See?  I knew you were thinking like a common pervert,” she jibed, sounding victorious underneath her haughty air.  “You’re getting all hard from rubbing against me…”

            “Shh…!”  Ichigo’s face was flaring red.  Couldn’t she use some decorum?!  It was bad enough for her to be touching him like this, but there were also ears everywhere!  Anyone of these passengers could…

            His worries stopped there.  The descent of his zipper was a far more pressing matter, as was the sneaky hand that carefully slipped inside his trousers.  “Wait,” he gasped, choking on his own anxiety.  Despite his feelings, he was too conscious of his surroundings to make much of a ruckus.  With just that subtle utterance, he briefly caught the attention of some old woman standing several paces to his right.  She did not let her focus linger on him for long, but it was a warning that these other passengers – though dreary and day-worn – were still aware of an orange-haired teen stuttering and gasping.

            He couldn’t even try to bat Riruka’s hand away when they were occupied with grocery.  Letting them go would cause a commotion that would likely bring attention to his downed zipper and his close proximity to the girl in front of him.  He had no choice but to hold his breath, swallow his modesty, and let Riruka extract him from his pants.  At least she did him the kindness of blocking everyone else’s view.

            Those small, dainty fingers closed around his hidden length near its base.  “There we go,” Riruka softly sang, her head still turned enough for Ichigo to see the pleased grin on her face.  She was much more of a pervert than she let on; Ichigo had pegged her more of just being a spoiled princess type.  It took a bit of maneuvering to weasel him out of his jeans; with the growing rigidness of the appendage, bending at times made him seethe softly with pain.  He whispered as soft and urgently as he could to discourage her, but her mind was set and he was freed.

            He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief when he was taken from his recently-confining trousers.  The shaft arched up from Riruka’s lightly-gripped hand, leaning against the soft crevice of her backside.  Their closeness and his opened jacket provided suitable cover, but if someone’s eyes drifted to that particular region, the two teens would be found out.  As luck would have it, those in closest proximity had their backs turned.

            “I told you,” Riruka crowed up at him with her haughty smirk.  She dragged her fist up, and then back down on his dick.  “You’re a per~vert~.

            As best as she could with her hand twisted behind her back, she began to pump his shaft.  Quietly – sometimes unintelligibly – she’d goad him with comments about how big or how hard he was, though she never sounded like she was complimenting him; more like she was making fun of his inability to control himself.  How exactly was it supposed to be easy to fight these hormonal urges when an attractive girl was playing so eagerly with his underused cock?  Though virginity was a thing of the past after an inquisitive night with Tatsuki, Ichigo wasn’t reduced to the type to crawl back and ask ‘Can we do it again?’ like other boys his age.

            Thus, hormonal control was not his strongest suit when he was egged on.  As Riruka’s hand continued to pass over the sensitive organ, he felt his excitement bubble up from the tip and drip down.  It took a few strokes of her hand before she touched the spillage.  Normally, such slimy texture would’ve warded her away or offended her, but now she just saw it as added proof that Ichigo could not resist her and employed the pre-cum to help her hand glide smoother.

            From the front, Riruka appeared to be just another passenger of the train who seemed to be musing on some inner joke with that quirking grin of hers.  But it could not reveal that her true enjoyment came from teasing the flustered, red-faced boy standing directly behind her.  What fun it would have been to cheer and sing about how Ichigo was a no-good pervert, but for the sake of public appearance, she simply enjoyed making him squirm.  And admittedly, she couldn’t say she wasn’t reacting herself to her ministrations.

            The panties she wore – white with red, pink and green circles – began to darken with moisture at her crotch while she teased Ichigo’s shaft.  He was such a hopeless pervert, she mentally chided.  In her mind, she could have him crawling around like a dog following her for her tail.  She could just imagine his wildness should she bend over, present herself while dipping her panties, and encourage him to do what he would with her.

            Two stiff buds peaked at the tips of her breast, noticeably sticking out against her shirt; a bad scenario to be caught without a bra, but no one was ogling her assets at the moment.  In private circumstances, she would address them with the attention they deserved.  On a train, secretly playing with a boy’s cock, she didn’t have the chance to indulge.  And since they were still a ways from the next stop, it’d be torture to endure.

            Fortunately for her, Ichigo had proven himself quite easy to bend.  He might have had a snappy attitude, but what good would that do him while she was handling him?  “As long as you don’t make a scene,” she murmured to him.  Her left hand flipped the back of her skirt up and over his cock, providing some means of hiding him away, though he was quite positive that she was not doing this for his benefit.  There was a shift of soft fabric underneath his penis, and flesh touched flesh.

            As it dawned on him what had just been done and what this could mean, Riruka leered back at him and finished, “This could be very fun for you.”

            “Y-you’re not serious?” Ichigo wheezed, uncertain if it was wise to call the bluff.  However, he was assured that she was very serious when his cock was dragged down to slide between her thighs.  Above his length, he felt her sticky, juicy, soft lips lathering him with natural lubricant; at his angle, the head passed through a thick-but-narrow area of hair.  He gasped shakily at the feeling.  Unable to help himself, though he checked around to see if any bystanders were actually paying attention to him, he bent his knees ever so slightly.

            His cooperation thrilled Riruka.  She had intended to grind him against her clit for a while, but since he offered assistance in lining them up, accommodating their significant difference in size, she decided it to be too much of a tease to prolong the wait.  Due to their height difference – even with him stooping a bit – she still had to rise on her tiptoes and bend him awkwardly to fix him against her opening.  Manual masturbation hadn’t kept her well-enough prepared for such girth; fitting him through her swollen lips was a bit more trying than she had expected.  With a soft grunt, she wedged him through her puffy entrance to her slick heat.

            Ichigo’s left eye ticked, and his lips curled up in an awkward sneer when he was invited into the snug space between Riruka’s legs.  His impulse was to cram all of his manhood up into her in one, swift push, but he had to suppress those urges.  His knees buckled beneath him while he waited for Riruka to adjust.  Subtly, yet with such significance, she swayed her hips side to side until she found him duly comfortable within her.  A good deal of him had yet to be loaded into her, but little more than the tip at the moment suited her just fine.

            Edging her feet just a little bit apart, Riruka bore down slowly on Ichigo’s shaft.  It proved difficult to capture her rising moans behind her tightly pursed lips.  She exhaled sharply through her nostrils.  Color was rising quickly in her cheeks while she suppressed the need to gasp and mewl while embedding the huge piece into her.  Ichigo was more or less keeping his cool, trying hard not to glance down and make others curious about what he was looking at and also keeping his breath and voice in check.  His eyes were at the roof of the car to distract himself, but there was no hiding the anxious sweat beading over his questionably-flushed face.  From time to time – usually when Riruka guided a significant portion of him into her – the corner of his mouth would twitch, and it would sometimes be accompanied by a whimper/grunt.

            As brash as she normally was, Riruka had enough wisdom to know that shoving all of Ichigo up into her was likely to cause either of them to make some way of calling attention to them.  A little over half would have to do…  Riruka, who had been satisfied by her fingers as of late, found it more than suitable; Ichigo thought it torturous.

            Not only did she take him – in some sense – unwillingly into her, but now she refused to follow through with accepting his entirety?  It was like being half inside a warm and cozy household and half out in a blizzard!

            “Don’t make a scene,” Riruka advised in her quietest voice.  Ichigo was surprised at how steady she sounded.  Her suggestion, however, was pretty obvious, and he wanted to say the same thing back to her.  If he did plan to do something that stupid, he was distracted from doing so when Riruka’s hot slit slid up his shaft.  Not a swift or long gesture, but controlled and discrete…  Ichigo was glad that she was showing some sort of restraint.

            Riruka made a soft noise as the rigid muscle rubbed against her slick insides.  Though she wanted to avoid people noticing, her hands wound back and grabbed onto the front of Ichigo’s pants for support.  She pulled on the slacks when she refitted him inside of her, though she still did not dare to cross the halfway mark.

            Knuckles turned white when Ichigo’s grip on the grocery bags tightened.  It was becoming harder and harder not to act suspiciously while the girl in front of him carefully rocked back and forth on the first half of his cock.  Jab it all in…  His arousal screamed for him to fully sheathe himself in her tight quim, but his logic kept him from being brash.  She was so wet, so slippery…  It’d be so easy just to push in just a little bit more!

            The option to slide the rest of the way in was made for him, and not by Riruka.  The unstable man behind Ichigo swayed drastically from the train ride and accidentally bumped hard against him, shoving him forward, forcing him to bottom out into Riruka’s unprepared snatch in one stroke.

            “Gah…!”  At the last second, the pigtailed girl caught her exclamation behind her lips.  She was not ready to take the whole thing; it even hurt a bit when he crashed up against her cervix.  He was long, and she was small.  Cramming his entire length without thorough preparation and mental-readiness made her tense.

            Even if she stopped herself from crying out louder and longer, the initial utterance did not go unnoticed by the gangly geek situated in front of her to the right.  He turned to her, wondering what prompted such a noise from her.  He would’ve done well just to mind his own business, for Riruka was not one to simply ignore someone else’s snoopiness.  The second she saw him looking at her, she growled, the blush on her face mistaken to be one of anger.

            “What are you looking at, stupid?!” she snapped, her voice sharp even though she was panicked.  A few beads of sweat rolled down the side of her face when she seethed; within her, she felt the swollen member throb against her uterus.  While the boy quickly turned away and wisely considered not looking back at her again, Riruka grabbed the nearest pole to brace herself.  If they were in private, she would’ve started berating Ichigo for not having the control to keep from plunging so deep.  Restricted in her outbursts, the most she could afford was a harsh glare back at him, promising to scold him when they were in private.

            Ichigo would’ve taken the matter far more seriously if he was in reveling in the tight space embracing his cock.  She was either very tense from the situation, or she was naturally tight.  Whatever the case, it was total bliss for him, even if he was likely to give himself a moral thrashing later.

            Never had it been harder to keep up appearance.  The scowl on his face was hard to keep on when his eyes wanted to roll to the back of his head, especially when Riruka – never one to shy away from her convictions – began to move on him again, her tender ass gently backing up against him before drawing away, the process repeating again and again.  Her subtle pace was maddening; Ichigo had half a mind to just drop his luggage, seize her hips, and fuck her in a way that she – nor anyone else on the train car – would forget.  These heated visions in his mind were not helping his control.  In fact, as the thumping of his cock increased, he began to realize a very urgent problem: when time came to release, where was he supposed to unload?  He wondered if he should ashamedly ask her where his target should be, or if he should just remove himself to cum on the insides of her thighs.  Doubtlessly, she’d chide him for soiling her.  Somehow, though, it seemed to be a gratifying thought, though her face would surely have proved to be the better target for that instance.

            He was just beginning to reel back his thoughts, setting his mind to other things that would calm him down.  With luck, he could hold off until the next stop – possibly no more than five minutes from now – and take himself out of her.  If she really wanted this to continue as he embarrassedly admitted to himself that he did, they could steal away to more private quarters.

            Finding a mental state of composure, he quelled the raging feelings, burying them – temporarily – under self-control.  It could’ve been something to be proud of if Riruka didn’t lean back against him, sliding him in much deeper than before.  He was pressing hard against her cervical wall, and her channel persisted on squeezing him.  That was hard enough to endure, but when she passed along a message with her shrewd smirk, he was all but lost: “You can do it inside.  Just be sure to take responsibility.”

            Ichigo didn’t even consider the lifelong consequences of her meaning.  Just hearing her consent to his unspoken urges tore down his defenses; it was all he could do not to drop his grocery bags and replace them with Riruka’s waist, forgo every onlooker, and pound Riruka at full force.  What he did instead was lift onto his tiptoes, exhale throatily, and unleash the mighty torrent he vainly tried to subside.

            Riruka gasped when he lifted a little, forcing her to rise with him.  She felt liquid heat squirting into her; she was shocked that he exploded so quickly.  Teasing could wait; already, she felt his abundant discharge coursing down her tunnel, and her favorite boots were in danger of being sullied.  She set her feet apart just in time, missing the first heavy droplets of white dripped out of her stuffed pussy.  More quickly followed, and Riruka watched as the puddle grew, knowing that a good portion of the mess was swimming up her cervix and into her womb.

            Though not cumming herself, her muscles did contract to aid Ichigo’s ejaculation, helping him pump her hungry snatch full of his fluids.  And when the donation was complete and the labored sigh given, Ichigo slumped against her.  Riruka barely had time to catch herself when he leaned against her back.  Despite catching her balance at the last second, Riruka wasn’t confident that her wobbling knees would afford them stability for long.

            She put on her best scowl and whispered back at him, “Take it out”, but not before she securely held her disheveled panties away from her loaded snatch.  Ichigo obediently, dumbly obeyed, retracting his semi-flagged cock with a slimy pull that was almost audible even during the racket of the train.  Chasing him out was a good portion of his seed, which Riruka had anticipated – hence holding her panties away from the flooding mess.  Flushed with apprehension and embarrassment, Riruka flexed her inner muscles to squeeze out as much of the pearly drops as she could.  The puddle between her heels grew, but would remain unnoticed until long after they departed.

            As she carefully fixed herself up, Ichigo was left to the gooey task of putting himself behind his zipper; a little tricky when he was also holding his grocery bags.  He looked left and right frequently, watching for anyone who might’ve caught a glimpse.  A look of discomfort crossed his face when the appendage was returned behind his boxers; the stickiness caused the fabric to cling.

            He was just about set when the train slowed to a stop and the doors opened.  It was a stop too early for their trip, so Ichigo was caught off guard when Riruka caught his arm and dragged him out onto the platform, shoving through the boarding passengers with impatient determination.  In spite of her small size, Ichigo was surprised that she could so easily tow him along; he was probably just still woozy from his ejaculation.  He stumbled along behind her, his curled fingers barely latching the grocery bags.

            Where exactly was she leading him anyway?  As fuzzy-brained as he was at the moment, he was aware that this was one stop too early.  He wondered if the sex had affected Riruka’s sense of direction as she led him hastily down the flight of stairs.

            Each turn was sharp, and she’d often snap at him if his feet lagged.  They didn’t go very far from the train stop; in fact, they just wound up in the parking lot!  Not many cars around; out in the open…  Riruka cursed her luck, but it’d have to do.  At least no one was around…  Grabbing Ichigo by the wrist again, she told him to hurry up and come with her.

            “Where…?” Ichigo finally managed out.  He was led to the underpass of the train tracks, shaded and next to a row of sparsely-parked cars.  Bordering the parking lot was a chain link fence; again, Riruka had to put up with the lack of cover.

            “Be quick,” she snapped quietly at him, tugging him next to the car furthest from sight after affirming that there was no one else around.  Ichigo didn’t even have time to ask what she was talking about, for she quickly took matters into her own hands after calling him a slow idiot.  She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before shrugging them down, bringing out his genitals.  Not the most favorable condition, Riruka thought with disdain.  He was still saturated from the earlier copulation, not even close to resembling her notion of ‘clean’.  If only she’d had a cleansing wipe on hand, but she didn’t…

            Thus, she was forced to bite the bullet, in a sense; Ichigo would be weeping if she really did bite when she swooped down onto her knees and begrudgingly put his mostly-flaccid penis in her mouth.  The taste made her cringe; the bitter aftertaste of leftover semen and her own juices.  She detested oral sex – at least, when she was the one going down.  It all came down to dignity and cleanliness.  But she didn’t have time to find a way for Ichigo to wipe up their previous mess and then fuck her anew.  Ginjou and Giriko always bitched about punctuality and would likely go looking for her if she was gone too long.  She didn’t need them finding her mounting their newest recruit like some kind of team slut.

            Luckily, Ichigo wasn’t stubborn.  Even if he uttered a few qualms about their indecency, he quickly grew solid and was raring to go.  Riruka could give herself a pat on the back when her lips slid off the appendage.

            A part of her thought that an easy solution would be for him to return the favor and cram his mouth against her juicy cunt, but she knew of the ickiness between boys and their cum.  She – and other girls – put up with tasting themselves, but guys…  Ichigo would probably put up an annoying fight when told to slurp at her sex after he already ‘cream-pied’ her.

            Unlike before, when she stood back up to take care of her panties, she slid them down to her knees instead of pushing the sopping crotch aside.  Not caring for preamble, she braced herself against the wall and said sharply, “Hurry up and put it in!  Before someone sees us!”

            Someone sees us?!  Ichigo didn’t like that idea, and the responsible thing to do would be to back out and invite Riruka somewhere more cozy and – more importantly – private.  And Ichigo would like to think of himself as a responsible guy, but not right now.  Seeing the snarky, demanding princess presenting herself like a bitch in heat, needy for his cock while her snatch was still leaking the last of his deposit…

            He could just chalk it up to his stress level, or that it was just too much trouble to argue with her…  Whatever reason he could find, he was already stepping up behind the pigtailed girl and stooping to line himself up; he had already set down the groceries.  “We have to be quick,” he needlessly warned her, as if that wasn’t the idea already.  She rolled her eyes at his dumbness.

            She didn’t need any prepping; his leftover semen was enough to lube the entrance and glide him deep into the Fullbringer.  She hissed, and his eyes caught how her cherish, manicured nails scratched the concrete wall in front of her.  She must’ve really needed this.

            Keeping to his word of warning by not wasting a precious second reveling in her heat, Ichigo began to thrust.  His hands stayed on her hips, controlling the rapid pace.  With each push and pull, his face would twinge or his eye would tic or his jaw would drop.

            Riruka did not make such facial expressions.  Instead, she let her head drop and simply panted while listening to the squelch of her slippery channel during each impact.  Wide eyes opened partially, and her head tilted a bit more so that she could try to get a glimpse of where Ichigo was splitting her.  She had to take a hand away from the wall to hold up the hem of her skirt so that she may watch her cute quim swallow that large cock again and again.

            When she had had her fill of watching, she took that same hand from her dress to gingerly lick at her fingertips, applying a modest amount of saliva to them.  Then they went south again, this time bypassing her clothes to search for the gash beneath.  She started by spreading herself, helping to ease the glide.  Afterward, she honed in for the true gem of her attention.

            She had to bite her lip to hold back a wail when her fingers aided Ichigo’s efforts to make her cum.  Risking more volume than on the train, his own huffs and puffs melted into elated moans.  He pushed her dress further up, bunching it all at the small of her back for a fuller view of her supple backside.

            Without the crowd, Ichigo’s hands were much greedier with her, pawing at her modestly-curved waist and itching to get a squeeze on those mounds bounding back and forth at her chest.  It didn’t really take a genius or expert-pervert to notice that she rarely elected to wear a bra.  In the drafty base of Xcution, Ichigo would frequently notice the two budding points of her breasts.  Just pull her top down, and they’d be all his!  Ichigo mentally chided himself for lapsing into a ‘Kon’ mentality.

            His internal goings-on stopped when Riruka’s velvety walls fluttered and contracted, yanking a loud moan from

            “Just do it,” he heard her command in labored breaths.  He wasn’t sure what she meant until she flashed a look over her shoulder and reiterated less vaguely, “Cum inside me again.”

            Still sloshing back and forth in his previous discharge, Ichigo of course wondered if it was really wise to double the risk of pregnancy.  He dwelt on that for about a second or two, but reason had pretty much vacated temporarily.  It was kept prisoner in his loins to be released post orgasm.

            If she wanted it, Ichigo would oblige.  Reaffirming his steel-tight hold on her, he began to pound away more furiously than before, his pelvis slapping noisily against her ass.  As he moved like a lubricated piston, Riruka’s volume increased ten-fold.  Small grunts and mewls rose to echoing cries and shrieks; fate was kind to not put anyone in earshot – at least, no one who would know where the sound was coming from.

            He was making his last dash, and Riruka knew that meant her cervix would soon be doused in another steaming puddle of semen.  Again, she stared at her pelvis, where the shaft vigorously split her body with loud squelches.  She didn’t even need the aid of her fingers anymore; she was crashing into her orgasm from seeing and feeling that long cock digging into her over and over, the precious sac at the base rising with the promise of feeding her womb’s craving.

            Juicy, hot walls pressed around the shaft, washing it with an abundant, sticky torrent.  Riruka arched her back proudly, jutting her bust out in front of her while throwing her head back.  Her teeth clenched together, but her eyes were wide open, unblinking and unseeing while dazzling, white sparks burst throughout her being.  In her boots, her toes curled tightly, and on the wall, her fingers tensed.  Searing hot pleasure radiated through her in time with the pattern of contractions in her pussy.  Helping to prolong the experience was Ichigo’s reliable gusto.  Even through her fierce contractions, he continued to wedge himself up to dab against the door to her womb again and again.

            But even he, with his nearly-unfathomable endurance, could not resist the pull.  She was flexing so enticingly around him, bathing him in her juices; her rapturous moans aided as well.  He couldn’t retain his load a second more, and against the minor voice telling of what his future may hold in store, he unleashed the sperm-filled torrent on her insides.  Hot, sticky gushes fed into her womb, and when the space was too filled, the deposit flooded back the other way.

            Not at all disappointing, Riruka thought with great satisfaction.  All the annoyances lately…  In this moment of lustful satisfaction, she could forget it – for the moment.  She let Ichigo remain inside, spending all that he could before clarity returned and she could hear him stammer a little.  Apparently, he was now more conscious of the possibilities he loaded into her.  Well, whatever came of it…

            “Just be sure you take responsibility,” she told him, her snide demeanor returning as she shuffled up her messy panties.  She’d be sure to change the moment they got back to base.

            Ichigo stuttered, his face flushing profusely, probably more than when he was inside of her.  He wasn’t even willing to make contact.  Should he ask her if she was ‘safe’?  A bit too late to consider anti-pregnancy… “What do we do?” he dumbly asked after clumsily pulling on his pants.

            Riruka stooped, picked up the grocery bags, and shoved them against his chest.  “We go back, stupid,” she snapped at him.  “What else?”  She marched towards the exit of the parking lot with her hands on her hips.  When she was a good distance away, she turned around and angrily called back to him, “Are you coming?  We have to catch the next train, stupid!”

~~~



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