Train Ride | By : c0p13r Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 19485 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: i don't own 'bleach', and i make no money from this fic |
Train Ride: ‘Nozomi’ Version
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Random Ichigo/Nozomi PWP. On the way back home from grocery shopping for the Urahara Shop, Ichigo and Nozomi find themselves packed tightly together on a train. Pressed close together on a rickety ride, it’s hard for them to ignore just how tight the space between them is…
Tags: Fetish(public), Fingering, HJ, M/F, Oral
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“I’ll go!”
Kon leaped high into the air, wavy a cushiony paw overhead to collect the attention of the gathering around him consisting of Orihime, Uryuu, Chad, and Ichigo. The discussion was pertaining to the ‘welcoming’ BBQ – Orihime’s idea – to make the socially-antagonistic Nozomi feel more at ease in their company; the matter at hand was who would travel a very far distance to get the ingredients for Orihime’s special cooking. Such groceries could not be bought in Karakura Town, according to the chef; they came from three cities over. And being that Nozomi didn’t exactly seem to enjoy shuffling around outside the Urahara Shop while the preparations were being made, she’d go as well, hence Kon’s eagerness to take on the task himself.
“Ichigo, you just lend me your body, and I’ll get the job done!” Kon assured him, pointing to himself with profound confidence. He expected the immediate answer to be ‘Alright.’ Instead, he got…
“No way.” While Kon screamed and argued his decision, Ichigo went on to grumble, “Last time I left you alone with my body, I got all sorts of dirty looks from girls around town. There’s no way I’m going to trust you again.”
“That?! You’re still mad about that?!” Kon scoffed and waved dismissingly at him. “You should be thanking me, you ungrateful bastard. At least girls are looking at you now-guh!” The plush lion was stifled underneath Ichigo’s foot.
“Nozomi-san seems put off a little by Kon anyway,” Uryuu observed, not paying attention at all to Ichigo pinning the Mod Soul to the ground under his foot. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, he made the suggestion. “It might be best if Kurosaki goes.”
“What? Why me?” snapped Ichigo, who was in no mood to go out and buy produce. Honestly, he wasn’t that accustomed to it anyway since Yuzu always did the shopping at home.
“Because Nozomi-san doesn’t feel as uncomfortable around you,” Uryuu started. “Also, if you get into trouble, you can simply go to your Shinigami form; you should have enough spiritual power to handle small Hollows. And more than that…” He stared intently at Ichigo, preparing to say something significant. “You’d only make a mess here with cooking.”
Ichigo blinked twice before snarling and yelling at the Quincy for his low opinion of his cooking prowess.
~~~
It took a lot of arguing, but Ichigo inevitably found himself on a train bound for a long, arduous journey.
The train was uncomfortably crowded, even though each stop dropped the number of people within. That only added aggravation. With Soul Society in a state of chaos caused by invading Reigai, Ichigo hardly found it appropriate to be out doing some grocery shopping three towns over. It couldn’t be helped, as Inoue had insisted that the best ingredients could not be found in Karakura so late in the day. And being that she wanted the BBQ to be something special, Ichigo couldn’t convince her that the products in Karakura’s market were just the same.
Sending him to such a far destination was one thing, but his company was another. Nozomi didn’t want to be alone with Kon; the perverted, yet annoyingly-sincere plush only irked her. It was best if she just left and Kon stayed.
Ichigo wouldn’t have minded – though he was surprised that the anti-social girl even wanted to be with him – were it not for her distance. Not just figuratively, but literally as well. On the train, after he took a seat near the doors of the car, Nozomi immediately headed towards the other side of the train to sit down, ignoring him completely. Annoyed, Ichigo just scoffed and muttered that she could suit herself.
Getting off the train and heading into the marketplace didn’t exactly head into any sterling conversations. Ichigo tried to get her to talk, but she remained snide and silent, and instead of answering questions concerning her preferred tastes, she’d either turn her head away or berate him.
The shopping was done quickly for the sake of returning to the Urahara Shop and parting ways with the antagonistic girl. Ichigo was always ready and willing to help others, but it was hard to have such enthusiasm with someone so disagreeable. No wonder why Kon flocked around her; she was just as annoying – but in a different way – as him!
When they loaded up on the train again for the long ride back, there was far less space than before. It was the evening rush, so most of these people were heading home from the office. She may have wanted to, but Nozomi found no space to squeeze through to remove herself from in front of Ichigo. With no small amount of reluctance, she planted herself in front of the tall orange-haired teen and prepared to endure the ride home.
Ichigo did not pay too much attention to how close he and Nozomi were packed. Sure, they bumped from time to time when the train passed over rickety tracks, but it was never anything more than the constant bumping with other passengers. He simply held onto the handle-straps lining the top of the train car for standing passengers, while his right hand swayed with the rest of him. He hardly even thought of the train he was on, his mind more focused on the matters at hand involving the man with the javelin Zanpakutou. Right after Aizen, already a new foe surfaced with new, strange, and powerful abilities. To make matters worse, Ichigo wasn’t in top form due to his Shinigami powers slowly being sapped as a result of the Final Getsuga.
Nozomi was of a similar mind for a few minutes, contemplating what she was doing in this place with this guy and that pervert bear or tiger or whatever. She just wanted to run away, leave everything behind and find a place of solitude to live out the rest of her unnatural life.
Without warning, the train car jarred on the tracks. The tremor was enough to have the passengers colliding with one another. Ichigo caught his balance easily enough, having honed reflexes passed down from his many battles. But Nozomi, awkward and lithe on her feet and in posture, was practically thrown from the rattling floor. Were it not for Ichigo’s solid frame behind her, she would’ve stumbled a considerable distance before catching herself. With him, she caught her footing… and something else…
Her hand had impulsively latched on to the first thing it could when her balance was lost. And as misfortune would have it, that was the front of Ichigo’s purple jeans. And because they were somewhat form-fitting on him, a lump was easily distinguishable and easy to latch on to. More than a lump, she observed when she experimentally squeezed; more of a soft rod.
Ichigo was frozen the moment he felt that small hand touch his privates, but her suddenly squeezing shocked him back to almost fling her off of him. He tried not to make a big deal out of it, as it was surely an accident, but the damage had already been done: his cock felt some foreign stimulation, and was now slowly on the rise.
Nozomi was returned to her previous stance by the frantic boy behind her, hearing him stupidly sputter out how the train tracks were in need of some repair. He acted – or was trying to act – like what just happened hadn’t happened at all. She, of course, didn’t let her emotionless demeanor sway, even if she was caught off guard by grabbing his groin.
Bringing her shoulders up, folding her arms, she muttered to the one behind her, “… Pevert…”
Ichigo bit his tongue. As if he put her hand at that place! He would’ve rather she had fallen than grab onto him. And after that, it wasn’t like he was feeling all too comfortable in his pants. Stretching quickly in his trousers, he tried to focus on other things. Least of all did he want to think about how, even now, he sometimes would bump against her. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice the stiff object that bushed against the small of her back.
“Pervert…”
She did notice.
Soft, her voice may have been, but Ichigo clearly heard her, and it might’ve been that even someone else heard. Ichigo clenched his teeth and sucked in a breath as though he was waiting for the blow of an unavoidable fist. Grabbing her shoulder and lowering his lips next to her ear, he desperately hissed, “Don’t say stuff like that here…! People will think…!”
“Don’t touch me,” Nozomi rebuked and sharply shrugged his hand off of her. For good measure, she once again blandly dubbed ‘Pervert.’
Bristling with frustration, Ichigo wanted to shout at her and tell her that he was the real victim here! It’d be entirely different if her hand was forcibly pulled to his crotch, or if it was Kon in his body, but as things stood now, he was completely innocent.
At least, he would have been if his body hadn’t reacted. He neglected himself and his hormones far too much for a teenager, so any outside stimulus would cause significant effects. Though he was some ways away from a full hard-on, the lump in his trousers had gained some serious mass. As unfortunate as his circumstances were, he considered himself lucky that Nozomi wasn’t looking back and down at him. If she did, that would probably give her enough cause to spread the news to his friends and the rest of the Shinigami that he was a sexual fiend, preying on her on the train. Forget the image he’d built up over the years! This would be what ruined him entirely!
Those were his thoughts until he felt that semi-familiar hand clutch on him again, this time intentionally! He had to look down to affirm that he really was being groped. Hadn’t she just been calling him a pervert a second ago?! And now she goes and does something like this?! Despite her inhibited appearance, she was boldly making grabs at his member and mapping its length and rigidity from tip to base.
He was about to make a grab for her wrist to pull her away when she voluntarily let go of him. Of course, he’d hoped this groping was an accident and that she had just realized her mistake. As it turned out, however, she let go merely to turn around to face him – rather, face down at him, as her attention was far south from his face – and return to palming his groin. Now that they were more or less sternum-to-sternum, it would be harder for Ichigo to make a grab for her hand and take it away from his crotch; she made sure she was close enough to make it difficult for him.
“What are you doing?” he whispered as softly as he could, glancing worriedly to the passengers around him. They were engrossed and needn’t pay attention to the likely-thug who bleached his hair.
“Pervert,” she murmured back at him without lifting her gaze from her audacious hand’s work. Without warning, she descended Ichigo’s zipper and slipped her small digits in to fiddle with the boxers underneath. Through the troublesome folds of cloth, she eventually brought out her desire, baring the growing erection to any whose eyes trailed below the belt. Before Ichigo could react, Nozomi held him firmly, not saying a word for her actions.
He’d no time to fortify his resistance; Nozomi had already taken the liberty of holding his cock in her left hand and rubbing it softly. In her usual, awkward posture of holding onto her left arm with her right hand, she seemed somewhat disinterested as she jerked Ichigo’s shaft. Not even when it was raring at its full potential did even a flicker of fascination, wonder or excitement pass in her dull eyes.
She was created, so this was her first chance to play so intimately with a boy. But in her creation, she was given the basic knowledge. In that regard, she was not overwhelmed with curiosity; she acted more on boredom.
Risking the crinkle of his plastic bags, Ichigo seized Nozomi’s narrow shoulders. His initial impulse was to push her away, but with his cock jutting free, he’d be even more exposed without her cover. He gripped her tighter, unsure of what to do. She was his cover, but also his offender.
Nozomi’s strokes were sinfully soothing. Ichigo had to keep his eyes from rolling up and surrendering his resistance, but it was hard. Methodically, yet so casually, he felt her thumb rub against his tip. The smooth flesh was left smoother and glossy from her smearing his beading pre-cum. Great… now he was hard and messy!
And Nozomi wasn’t slowing down. She fondled and caressed, tugged and petted, squeezed and rubbed. Not an expert by any means – Ichigo based this solely on his self-indulgent times in the shower – but given these extreme circumstances, she would have him gushing in a matter of moments. Already, he was twitching like crazy, and an overflow of pre-cum had started to drip to the floor! Nozomi padded the dangling strand to briefly examine it between her thumb and forefinger. Afterwards, her purple eyes turned back up to him, and again: “Pervert…”
Frustrating! That was the only word Ichigo could use to describe the unpleasant girl! All he and his friends were doing for her, and she still acted difficult and provoked him. Immoral feelings within him started to swell, planting thoughts in his head – his twitching erection was a powerful catalyst to implant these images. What if the shoe was on the other foot?! How would she like it if he flipped up her cardigan, pushed aside her panties, and delved his fingers deep into her snatch? The idea was unsettlingly vivid, particularly when Ichigo shut his eyes; her face, so clear in his mind’s eye, contorted and sweaty from lust and pleasure. He wasn’t a pervert – definitely didn’t desire Nozomi in any way a few minutes ago – but the image was just becoming so tantalizing.
“Nnn…!” The sound was involuntarily from his throat, as was the sharp jerk of his hips towards Nozomi’s persistently-pumping grip.
Damn her!
Following the several thumps of his prick was the hot, sticky expulsion of his release. Anticipating his discharge, Nozomi had moved out of the line of fire to let the white streaks tarnish the skirt of the unsuspecting businesswoman in front of them. The unexplainable incident between her and her husband was of no concern to Nozomi, for she continued to milk the thumping appendage while Ichigo struggled not to make a noise that would give their indecency away.
Nozomi made a subtle noise – a sigh of sorts – as she retracted her hand and watched the spout revert to a slippery drip. A small portion saturated the side of her index finger. She thought of simply wiping it off, but decided against it on two accounts; for one thing, she’d be smearing her own cardigan with his filth, and for another, despite her usual disregard of just about everything, she wanted to observe.
As the initial loads carried the majority of actual sperm cells, this stain on her finger was quite clear; a bit misty, but mostly clear. She examined it, but not closely; she held her hand at a reasonable distance, rubbing the translucent fluid a little with her thumb. Behind her, beneath her notice and care, a frustrated orange-haired substitute Shinigami hastily shoved his privates back into his trousers. He glared daggers at the back of her head, but again, she didn’t notice or care.
The passengers swayed in unison with the screech of the train’s brakes; Ichigo, still dazed, stumbled a little more than everyone else. As much as he didn’t want to, he reflexively grabbed onto Nozomi’s shoulder for support. At once, she provoked him by aggressively shoving his hand off of her with a prompt order for him to not touch her. That was it! There was only so much abuse Ichigo was willing to stand from a brat like her! It would not be his proudest moment, and he was certain this would be a time he would recall with shame, but fueled by anger, annoyance, and arousal, he would contend with Nozomi.
As the doors to the platform opened for the flood of exchanging passengers – more getting off than coming on – Ichigo snagged Nozomi’s hand against her command and led her through the train car. Too crowded here; the next car was usually empty due to bad train wheels making the car shudder more violently than the others.
“What are you doing?” Nozomi asked as Ichigo hurriedly transferred them both through the doors and into the adjacent section. The moment they were both through and the door had been closed – and to his own satisfaction, the train car was devoid of any other passengers – Nozomi was practically thrown onto the seats lining the side of the car. Quite aggressive for the orange-haired pervert who seemed more or less passive with his friends. Still not violent, though; he seemed to be more panicked, more in a rush than intent on hurting her.
His face was flushed as he eyed her. She hadn’t made herself more comfortable since falling on the seats, one arm across the top and one leg drawn up on the seat; almost like she was modeling… or even teasing! The raised knee bared her upper thigh, nearly exposing a glimpse of her panties. But Ichigo wasn’t in the right mindset to be taunted. When Nozomi once again questioned his intentions – her tone still unwavering – he said that she’d have to be quiet.
Not a minute to lose; he sunk quickly to his knees and made for the gap between her own. He was quite surprised that she didn’t immediately close the space, pull down the hem of her cardigan, and call him a pervert again. Somewhere deep inside, perhaps in the dark recesses where his inner Hollow resided, he could almost chuckle and mutter how she was probably too wet to refuse this offer.
“Pervert…” Well, at least she wasn’t breaking stride…
Ichigo shrugged off the name and a better situation of his plan, nudging her to sit properly before hiking her feet up onto the seat, splaying and exposing the intimate parts to him. Lime-green panties; he had to admit that they suited her, but something was off. Her attitude, of course, was strange; she’d just tugged a boy to completion on a train and now was flashing aforementioned boy, but that hardly made Ichigo take pause alone.
Steely nerve brought his finger to creep up the creamy insides of Nozomi’s thighs, and still, even feeling the encroaching digit near her apex, Nozomi’s purple eyes drifted nowhere, glued to Ichigo’s face. Her calm demeanor implied that this was possibly her plan all along…
The finger hooked at the side of Nozomi’s panties and dragged them to one side to expose her vulnerable parts. A forest of dark-green hair welcomed him, and he finally was able to make sense of what was so off: she wasn’t wet in the slightest! When he and Rukia had those stress-relieving encounters, every time her panties were removed, the dark hair glistened with liquid lust!
Ichigo had to blink several times. He thought that this erection-advised impulse would be met with equal ‘enthusiasm’ from the initiator. Instead, what he uncovered was a disappointingly-dry cleft. Embarrassment and frustration churned in his stomach. What kind of man would brashly prep a girl on a solid hunch that she would reciprocate, but then uncover this as the truth?!
But as always, Nozomi’s face was unchanged. Eyes narrowed in perpetual contempt, lips drawn down ever so slightly in a bored frown… A girl completely unwilling to reciprocate his actions would’ve shoved her foot on his chest, kicked him away, and screamed in ways that would forever shame him. Instead, her response was quite… unexpected: “Well?”
She was waiting for him to continue. Curious or anxious? Maybe she was just bored and wanted something to pass the time. Well, whatever the case… changing his mind would make him look rather pitiful. Therefore, setting to his ‘task’, Ichigo’s eyebrows furrowed determinedly, and he leaned in.
Nozomi watched unflinchingly when the tongue swept her slit. The light curls must’ve tickled his lips when he pressed them against the nub at the apex; he drew back and readjusted his mouth before diving back in. Few oral experiences had him demonstrating some knowledge, but whatever he’d learned, Nozomi was not impressed. When she pulled up the hem of her cardigan even more, Ichigo thought she was offering more access to him, or wanted a better view for herself; instead, she was just making room for her hand to slide.
Ichigo blinked several times when her infringing fingers skillfully made their way to her snatch. While a thumb rubbed precise circles about her clit, her other fingers began to play with the lips. Most of the lubrication came from Ichigo’s spit during his licking, but her digits moved to coax a bit more passion. Her expression remained stoic, but her shoulders adjusted a little and she made a soft, murmur.
Ichigo’s teeth clenched anxiously. “I…” His throat clutched on him. Was Nozomi intending to simply replace him, have him watch from the sidelines? The cock that she had just relieved had regained its potency, and acting on the influenced impulses, he intended to return the favor. If he had to contend with her for this territory…!
His hands snaked underneath Nozomi’s lithe thighs, coming around just under her taut butt, dragging her closer to him and his mouth. He would prove himself that he was not second to her mild efforts. Shoving his face against her groin – never minding how he was pressed up against her still-twiddling fingers – Ichigo renewed his assault on her folds. His tongue flourished with greater boldness than before. Though his technique didn’t alter much, his passion certainly was showing, gleaming in his eyes as he peered up at the green-haired girl. Again, she yielded nothing more than that cold stare.
And then, when his wiry tongue slid against her nub… a tic of the left eye… a twitch in the lips… a sound between a groan and a whine…
If he were the gloating type, now would be the time for Ichigo to pull away with a haughty remark for cracking her impassable exterior. Instead, his lips turned up in a smile before continuing with the task at hand with added vigor. He employed his hands, though the space between Nozomi’s legs – even when separated – was rather close. Thumbs delicately opened her up, exposing the slick and sensitive walls within.
The more he licked, the more flavor filled his mouth… Despite how she obviously tried to bite back the elation, Nozomi was starting to demonstrate some form of enjoyment in the empty train car. Hopefully their privacy wasn’t temporary. Ichigo wanted to check the door, make sure no one was peeking in, but the legs around his head had actually started to close around him; slowly at first, but he inevitably felt his ears deafened by the insides of her thighs.
And as much as he wanted to keep up the pace, his untrained jaw and tongue tired. He took a five-second breather only to have his messy hair fisted painfully and yanked back to the slippery region. “Don’t stop,” he heard her mutter above him, her voice cool and contradicting to the obvious flush across the bridge of her nose.
Still so in control… Ichigo could envy that after his pitiful display during her attention to his own privates. He meant to shake that distant resolve of hers and loosen her up. To vindicate his actions, he reasoned that she needed this after being so tense with everything going on around her.
Despite his willingness to continue, Nozomi’s fingers had yet to loosen their grip on his scalp. He glowered up at her, the bottom half of his face still pushed against her emerald crotch, and grumbled from the side of his mouth that she could let go. Her response was a sharp tug on his hair and the order for him to continue. “You don’t need to talk,” she told him dully, but firmly. “Pervert…”
His eyebrow twitched, but he nonetheless took her advice and continued his probing. She seemed to rein in her reactions to the times when his tongue caressed the proper areas; she managed to stifle gasps and moans to short, airy exhales through her nose. When the feelings got more intense, she would cast her gaze to the side; sometimes, she would wince.
No matter how aloof her expressions were, Ichigo could taste the increase of her delight. Keeping her succulent nether lips spread open, he turned his attention to the crest. He nuzzled her soft fur as his tongue rolled over the sensitive bulb. And in expected response, Nozomi’s hips began to rotate and shift to match the patterns of his lapping. He pursed his lips around and began to suckle. Nozomi’s breath hitched. She was getting close to losing her composure entirely.
Bzzt! Bzzt!
Ichigo almost jumped from the unexpectedly loud hum of his cell phone, vibrating with a call in his front pocket; Nozomi, of course, was completely unfazed. Given the circumstances, he thought he should ignore it, but the big picture – the situation with the old guy playing with a spinning shaft – made his friends paranoid. If he didn’t answer, with his powers on the fritz, they would probably go looking for him…
“Dammit,” he said under his breath, fishing into his pocket for his phone.
Caller ID: Ishida. Damn four-eyes.
Ichigo didn’t try to look up at Nozomi. She was probably glaring at him. He flipped his phone open and turned his head away from the tasty niche. “What is it?” he barked, and in return, he was barked at from the other end of the line. What was taking him so long? Was he too dense to know what to pick up for a simple barbeque? “Listen, Ishida! We’re already on the train, and…!”
A sharp pull to the hair reminded him of Nozomi. Apparently, she was in no mood to wait. Ichigo seethed, feeling caught between a rock and a hard place. “Hurry up, pervert,” she said sternly.
“What was that? Was that Nozomi-san?” Uryuu had barely heard her voice. Luckily, he didn’t hear her clearly.
If Ichigo didn’t resolve this matter, Nozomi may just start calling him pervert a bit louder. His eyes turned back to Nozomi. If she still wanted attention, she’d get it! Tatsuki had always liked this maneuver. Two fingers pressed against Nozomi’s hole and slid in deep. Nozomi rocked back with a small grunt. The fist on Ichigo’s head tightened, but did not pull.
Having just testing her with his tongue, Ichigo had not realized her tightness until she was hugging – more like squeezing! – his fingers. The disgruntlement of Ichigo’s face shifted to shock from the utter tension fluttering around his digits. Was it even possible?!
“Remember, Kurosaki! Try bonding with her,” Ishida lectured. “It might make it easier for her to open up to us.” If only he knew…
“I-Ishida,” Ichigo stammered, feeling panicked, rushed, and excited all at once. His pants were pushing outward, a prominent display of his zeal. “We’ll be there soon! Later!”
Nozomi watched as Ichigo rather clumsily put away his phone and hastened to undo his trousers. He’d been so apprehensive before about his penis’ exposure; now, he was acting like he couldn’t get it out fast enough.
Even having seen it once before, Nozomi was still intrigued to see the phallus lunge out from his boxers. She harrumphed softly when Ichigo grabbed her waist and adjusted her. Couldn’t he control himself? “What are you doing?” she inquired, as if she didn’t know.
Ichigo didn’t even think to answer, or maybe he just gave up when all that came from his lips were fumbled mutters. He was moving like a man possessed when his right hand angled his jutting appendage downward, aiming at Nozomi’s cunt. He pushed forward hastily, and his tip leaned into her labia. With more pressure, her folds were forced open. Her impassible expression faltered, flushing slightly as the corner of her mouth drew up in slight discomfort. Wet as she was, her snatch was unbelievably tight. Wedging her open – especially with his considerable girth – took a bit of tolerance from her and weight from him.
“Uhnn…!” Nozomi winced and shuffled a bit. Ichigo bowed over her, his hands now holding onto her knees for leverage as he sunk into her. On his face was a look of overwhelmed pleasure. He was locked inside of her, the fluttering muscles refusing to ease up around him. No turning back; he pushed deeper and deeper until he couldn’t go any further.
Nozomi cringed slightly at the feeling of Ichigo’s head firmly nuzzling at her cervix. He hadn’t moved yet – still quivering and trying to steady his anxious breathing – but she was already anticipating the discomfort it’d cause from his rod pounding against her deep insides.
Once more, Ichigo checked the doorway to make sure there were no peepers, and when he was satisfied, he shifted and thrust shallowly. It was enough to make the petite girl recoil with a small grunt. “It’s too deep,” she told him flatly. Her chin was tilted down a little, so she was leering up at him from beneath her bangs, a shade of almost-invisible pink splashed on her cheeks.
Apologize? Ichigo caught the impulse before he could utter it. The situation would make an apology awkward, and also, she was the one who started it. For her, the most he could afford was being mindful not to go too deep.
He moved experimentally at first, pulling out to leave only his swollen tip between her folds, and then pushed his length in at an even slower crawl. Nozomi’s placid demeanor had returned even as the cock pushed into her core, but the moment Ichigo saw that façade flicker, he stopped and held his ground. She didn’t urge him onward, but she also didn’t argue the depths to which he eased off at.
Her lip-muffled sounds were stifled underneath the huffing and puffing of the orange-haired teen leaning over her. It seemed all the stress that had been accumulating for him had finally found a proper vent. Not that he was using her, but this was something he sorely needed. Nozomi decided to stop analyzing his facial features and let her violet eyes roam his bucking body. His hands were still pushing up the backs of her knees for leverage, but she could feel through his touch the trembling within him had yet to cease. Down further, beyond her pushed up cardigan, she watched his length plunge through her curls’ concealed valley. With how much he restricted going into her, it was a bit shocking to know that he was reaching far deeper than he seemed. And sadly, this limit denied the clash of their hips; her swollen clitoris was painfully neglected.
Grabbing her left arm in her usual insecure manner, she reached down to pet her protruding gem. She exhaled sharply when she gently rubbed herself, adding to the new and thrilling sensations. Her gaze shifted up from her groin, locking eyes almost instantly with Ichigo’s passion-glazed eyes. Either embarrassed or uninterested, she looked off to the right and uninterruptedly let Ichigo have away at her.
Ichigo was simmering, sweat practically pouring down his flushed face as he paced himself as best as he could. Not a virgin, he was still quite new to sex, having only tried slow-paced, inquisitive congress before. Nozomi’s body, however, seemed to beckon a stronger force in spite of her nonchalant demeanor. Forgoing his own self-imposed restrictions, his pace strengthened, the grip on her thighs tightening. When she admonished his lack of control, her hands moved to the edge of her seat and held on tight. Luckily, he still had some reason and knew that shoving the entirety of his cock into her body would do more harm than anything! Still, he tested her limits with this speed and power!
In a mobile room, footing was sometimes uncertain, and Ichigo’s reckless caused him to buckle often with the motion of the train car. He switched the placement of his hands to help him keep steady: one on Nozomi’s waist and one on her shoulder. He meant to paw at her chest, but her outfit accentuated her legs, but hardly did anything for the lure of her bust.
Nozomi cringed, her breath hissing behind her grit teeth. It wasn’t hurting – she’d gotten used to his ‘passion’ – but the rush of pleasure was becoming almost overbearing. If this kept up, she’d lose her composure completely!
But before Ichigo could break through her complacent exterior, the train struck hard against uneven tracks; not a serious problem, but it was viciously jarring for anyone not bracing. Ichigo was not bracing, and with his hold on Nozomi, when he toppled, she went with him. He slipped out of her, and both were immediately filled with a sense of longing for their reunion.
Ignoring Ichigo’s face being shoved between her modest breasts – he had his face buried in more intimate areas not too long ago – Nozomi carried herself off of him by grabbing the nearest pole, clinging to it before Ichigo could even get out of his stupor. “Are you finished, pervert?” Was that her baiting him?
Ichigo wouldn’t let himself sit around and be berated. They weren’t finished. She was coaxing him; there was no reason to hold off. Leaping to his feet, he assumed his stance behind her, bending a little to accommodate the difference in height, and slid back into her with ease. At once, her body gripped him in a welcoming return embrace.
Ichigo didn’t test her resilience this time. Once he had properly set himself, his rhythm shot returned to the hasty pace previously set. Nozomi clutching the pole helped greatly, she found out; without such stability, she’d probably topple over, Ichigo too, and once again make fools of themselves. Even when he picked up her left leg to offer easier access, the pole kept them steady. She had to wince once or twice. The new position of her leg seemed to open her up to a new variety of sensations. Was he jabbing deeper than before, or was the difference in angles just so dramatic to stir these new experiences?
“Pervert,” she gasped out. The vigorous assault on her attitude was rekindled, and insulting Ichigo seemed to be her only anchor. “You pervert. Pervert…!” After that final one, she realized that her voice was soon to slip. Best to keep her voice down, try not to utter anything.
Ichigo almost faltered when her walls hugged him again. He still kept her left leg elevated, but his free hand went on the move, gliding up her naked waist and under her cardigan to hold her at the belly. He was no longer leaning over her; their bodies were meshed to contour against one another. Whenever the merest spasm rippled through her body, Ichigo felt it, though none were more delicious than the pulse of tensing muscle around his thrusting member. Even he couldn’t help calling out from her intensifying contractions.
The fluttering tightening was the onset of her orgasm. Having not ever had one before, Nozomi was glad to have the pole to hold onto like some kind of lifeline. Seething, her muscles undulated before contracting tightly. She was cumming, hard and fast. Ichigo’s persistent thrusts increased the feeling, but it was apparent that he himself was not going to carry on much longer. His short-winded gasps and abrupt, random lunges; she would’ve mentioned how foolish he seemed if she herself wasn’t dripping with perspiration and struggling to catch her breath. Tresses of her short, green hair stuck to her brow, but her hands were clutching so tightly at the pole; she couldn’t even brush her hair back.
As her juices ran abundantly down his length, smearing on his testicles or trousers, Ichigo’s tempo hitched. Could a Gigai get pregnant? Best not to test the theory! With a whine-inducing yank and a sloppy spray of her abundant essence, Ichigo freed himself from her condensed depths, and not a moment too soon. His cock was already loosing wiry ropes of seed across her pale rump. Thinking and acting quickly, even in his winded and orgasm-paralyzed state, he pushed up the hem of Nozomi’s clothes, out of the range of his spunky discharge.
Nozomi, still reeling and gasping, looked back and down at where Ichigo painted her near-flushed skin with a liberal use of white. Even when the tide ebbed to beading droplets, his body wracked and his cock ran against the crevice of her buttocks. A bold move, but one she would definitely scorn should he become ‘bolder’…
That would not be the case, for despite how he shamelessly moved against her in his post-orgasm state, his hardness was subsiding and clarity and shame were setting in his eyes once more. As if breaking free of a trance, he stumbled back, immediately hurrying to put his flagged penis away. He stammered profusely while pulling his zipper up, beet-red in the face. His eyes didn’t even have the courage to pull off the ground.
This shouldn’t have happened, he thought he should say! It was because of her and her… her…! Well, it took two to commit what they had both knowingly and consensually done. Putting blame on her would be even more pathetic than caving into his provoked desires!
Nozomi didn’t care for his baffled attitude. She resumed her poise and straightened out her clothes. Ichigo felt his throat cave in when she carelessly pulled up her panties without the slightest concern for the semen still sliding down her body. Was she really okay with that?! He held his tongue, though, and would pretend he didn’t see anything.
Unfortunately, they had missed their stop and would have to travel back on a separate ride. The ride back to the Karakura Town station would be mostly spent in silence, except when Nozomi looked at Ichigo – both sitting on opposite sides of the train car – and after a moment of long, unnerving staring, said, “Pervert…”
~~~
“Why were you gone so long?!”
The plush lion was more annoying than perverted. Ever since she and Ichigo had returned from their train ride, Kon had been chasing after the green-haired Mod Soul, searching for answers. He was irksome when being lecherous, but being concerned… most would prefer the perversion.
Ichigo had more or less tried to remain cool, though there was obviously something off about his actions. Even when Uryuu challenged his competence, considering the duration of picking up supplies, he took it in uncharacteristic stride instead of blowing up with anger. Orihime and Chad murmured amongst themselves about how Ichigo would’ve normally exploded at Uryuu, and the two would enter their usual squabble.
“I think Kurosaki-kun may have been replaced by a clone!” Orihime whispered with an affirmative nod. With the doubles running about Soul Society, maybe it wasn’t too unlikely, for once!
Chad, however, contested that it might have something to do with the drainage of spiritual energy. Whatever it was, Ichigo’s friends hardly saw fit to press him for answers, simply wanting to enjoy the BBQ.
Nozomi was not so lucky. Over and over, Kon expressed how dangerous it was, how incompetent Ichigo was, how worried he was; all the while, demonstrating how annoying he was in this arc. “I should’ve been the one to go with you!” he announced for the umpteenth time. He patted his chest strongly. “Ichigo doesn’t have much strength left, after all! And he’s a dummy! Me, I’ve survived all these years on my wits!”
Nozomi continued to try to ignore him, and that, of course, invoked more dread from him. Almost tearing at the eyes, he screamed, “What could have took you so long?!”
Finally, Nozomi, feeling inclined, answered as bluntly as she could, for all ears to hear: “We were having sex on the train.” And then she proceeded to observe and pick out the food of the barbecue.
Jaws dropped from her declaration, but none lower than Kon’s…
~~~
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