Mistake in Identity

BY : c0p13r
Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 8059
Disclaimer: I make no money off of this story and I don't own 'Bleach'



            Orihime didn’t mind it.  No, actually, she loved it!  Ever since becoming a part of their family – the Kusosaki family – it was her duty and joy to set up parties for family gatherings. Her husband, of course, always insisted that she not push herself, and she always insisted that she was more than happy to make his sisters and father happy.

            This gathering, however, ended when Ichigo was called to the hospital; Uryu wanted a meeting with him.  Ichigo called it a bother, but Orihime understood.  “I think it’s nice that Ishida-kun can still call on his friends for help,” she had said ton Ichigo before he left, kissing him briefly before moving to the mess in the kitchen.

            The Kurosakis certainly liked their alcohol, that much was true.  Karin liked the dizzying drink; it made her family tolerable.  And Yuzu, not wanting to be left out, would be tipsy after an experimental sip; she’d been the first to go upstairs to her room and snuggle with her dozing nephew in her bed.  Ichigo may pass on the beer, but Orihime’s father-in-law certainly drank enough for the both of them.

            Karin, currently, was sprawled out on one couch that was set perpendicular to the tv and the other couch, upon which slept the champion drinker of the house.  Well, retired now, Isshin spent most of his time with Urahara or at Soul Society, reconnecting with lost colleagues.  But having him here now was nice; he was always so sweet to Orihime, and so very funny.

            Orihime peeked over the couch at him, seeing that he had fallen asleep with his eighth can of beer stuck in his fist.  Best not to let him hold it, so she reached over to take it from him.  Her breasts squished against the back of his head as she reached toward his thigh where the can rested.  Her fingertips brushed the rim, and that was as far as her hand got before its wrist was caught and she was pulled further across the couch with a yelp.

            Leaning now with her toes off the floor and balancing on the back of the sofa with her thighs, she was dangerously close to the leering and unbalanced grin of her father-in-law.  He chortled, and she knew his nap hadn’t started to sober him up.  Last she heard him speak was of how he loved his family and missed his wife.  And now he brought up his wife again.  “Hey, Masaki,” he slurred.  “Where are you reaching?”

            Orihime blinked and flushed. “M-Masaki? Uh, i-it’s me!”  She put on a quick and nervous smile.  “Ori…”

            “Shh,” slurred Isshin with a finger to his lips, and then he pointed.  “Our daughter’s asleep right there.  We’re gonna have to be quiet.”  He snickered, and then pulled Orihime’s mouth over his.

            All at once, she tasted the sharp fumes of alcohol as her father-in-law kissed her, but that was nothing when his tongue laid siege to her pursed lips.  His eyes were closed, but hers were wide and watching!  Red ignited in her face until she glowed.  Father is kissing me!  Airhead she may have been, but she obviously put two and two together.  Drunken, he had mistaken her for his wife, and there was no denying that there were more than a few similarities between the two women.

            “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he purred when taking away for air, though his mouth still hovered near hers as she gasped and panted.  He twisted to her, the beer already fallen from his hands and clanking on the floor, completely empty.  He took one of her breasts in his hand and squeezed through the layers of clothing.  “Heh.”  His lecherous grin went from her bosom to her face, his half-lidded eyes ogling her.  “Have they gotten bigger?”

            Orihime rolled her eyes off to the side, pursing her lips and wondering if it was right to answer.  “A little,” was her honest reply, for Kazui’s birth amped her bust a bit more – as if she needed it.

            Isshin just continued to snicker drunkenly while shoving his face between them.  Orihime swallowed hard and stared at him.  “Well, are you going to help out?  The kids are all asleep, aren’t they?”

            Yes, they were, Orihime thought with some sense of dread, some sense of relief.  How embarrassing it would be for them if Karin’s eyes peeked open for even a moment, even more so if she did now, now that Isshin had guided his supposed-wife’s hand to his groin to feel his intention.  Orihime gasped sharply as his hand fixed her fingers around the object in his sweatpants.  He was so swollen!  She could almost sense the ache of it!  When Ichigo’s was in such a state, he was always so fussy, but unsure if it was right to bother his wife with it each time.  Each time, Orihime would tell him that she enjoyed helping him out – orally or otherwise…

            Now his father was in that state, and by marriage, her father too!  A good daughter does not leave her father wanting, and it was her responsibility to help him.  Still, it was a debate that she could not easily side with.  Ichigo had been the only one in her life, and she had made that pledge.


            This was his father, her father-in-law.  Family.

            Slowly, her fingers began to coil.

            It was no bad thing to tend to a family member.  And as wife of this household, her guests’ comfort was her responsibility.

            “Um…  Just let me…”  She was never one to be conventional, and so instead of walking around the couch, she slithered over it, got on the floor between Isshin’s legs, and prepared herself.

            Seeing her like this, Isshin relaxed.  “It must be a special day, Masaki.  Normally, you make me beg.”  He wasted no time taking down the elastic band of his pants, and Orihime’s eyes bugged out as she stared.  The same length as his son’s… but undeniably thicker; turgid, and all-around masculine.  Not to say Ichigo’s was worse, but Isshin had those rugged qualities from being further on in years.

            The pants drew down so that his entire groin was exposed, shaft and carriage.  He did not groom, and why should he?  He was a man.  His beard was his pride and joy.  But now Orihime had come to it: facing her decision head on.  Honestly, it was daunting.

            “Are you going to make me beg now?”

            Orihime gulped down her reservations and quickly shook her head from side to side.  “I’ll do it,” she got out.  Not the first time sucking a cock, after all… and it was just her father-in-law’s.  She had already committed to it, and she wouldn’t let her husband come home to a fussy father.

            She put her ten fingertips at the root of his manhood to stabilize it.  Already, it made him twitch, and a surge of translucent fluid overflowed from his tip.  Also noted for the first time, she realized the presence of foreskin; his son had none.  Who’s decision?  Orihime thought to ask, but Isshin encouraged her instead to take in his cock with a hand on the back of her head.

            The heavy, thick taste of man slabbed over her tongue in one swift move, and she swallowed the oozy pre-cum without thinking twice.  A cry of shock was muffled and vibrating around his length, and he groaned appreciatively.  “You always have those tricks, my love,” swooned Isshin, petting the orange head in his lap.  He directed her mouth manually, pumping her up and down slowly and gently until she overcame the lapse of action and began to suck on him herself.  He exhaled a great sigh of satisfaction, now leaving just one hand on her bobbing head.

            “Mmph…  Gck…  Mmm…”  Orihime knew how to give head even before she started sucking Ichigo’s.  It was a practice she’d done on bananas and popsicles, all under the tutelage of Tatsuki-chan, Rangiku-san, or even Chizuru-chan; the latter merely had to see innocence corrupted in some way for some twisted pleasure.  And thanks to their guidance, Orihime could proudly say that her husband was left sated in under five minutes each time.  Now to test his father and see if he approved of her skill.

            She did not simply go up and down, but twisted her head in a variety of ways.  She knew – a thorough lesson from Rangiku-san – that the tip’s stimulation was crucial, so she doted mostly on that.  Her talent was given praise.  “Wow,” Isshin wheezed, his body tightening.  “I haven’t had it like this since my days as captain!  Agh…!”

            Orihime was not negligent, and his balls were scooped tenderly into her hand so that she may play with them a little, stroke them and convince them to donate their load.  She stole her mouth away from the poll only to play with them, kissing and licking and lavishing the aching orbs.

            “Argh, Masaki!”  He jutted his hips, his cock pulsating.  Orihime was practically thrown back from his enthusiasm, but seeing the signs, she quickly put her face to his cockhead.  There hadn’t been a mess on the floor so far; she wanted to keep it that way!

            But Isshin shocked her once more when he did not cum and instead grabbed her by the wrist again.  “C’mon!”  He dragged her to her feet, making her run behind him as he took her to the table… the place where the family congregated and ate.  She questioned the motives, as this would certainly undermine the sanctity of the table.

            But Isshin would not be stopped, hoisting her atop of it, clearing away the leftover bowls and empty cans to lay his ‘wife’ upon it.  With their roles now switched, him being the one in between her legs, more than a few warnings went off in Orihime’s head.  She had expected him to ejaculate over her or in her mouth, and whatever needs had stirred her would have been fulfilled by Ichigo when he returned!  She couldn’t…!

            “Masaki,” Isshin breathed, his hand shoving up her dress to find the core of her panties wet, “you’re so ready for this.  Heheh.  It has been a while.”

            “Wait!  Father!”

            Not for all the riches in the world or Soul Society would Isshin wait.  His cock still bobbing freely, he ushered it underneath Orihime’s clothes, and when his thumb moved the panties’ crotch out of the way, he met his warm destination.  His eyes crossed upward, his smile goofy and elated as he sunk in.  Orihime’s hands instantly latched onto the edge of the table when he took her; a slow and steady, relishing push that opened the channel leading to her innermost parts.  He did not rush this feeling, for all his urgency would be wasted.  No, a tight body must be savored, every inch.

            “Gah~!  You’re amazing, Masaki~,” he gushed as some spittle formed at the side of his mouth.

            Orihime, on the other hand, wrenched her hips left and right, trying to accommodate the girthy intruder.  It wasn’t terribly long since her last pounding, but an active body usually tensed back up in a week’s time.  She was accustomed to Ichigo, not this!  “It’s big!”

            “Yeah, it is,” laughed the man in a drunken stupor, feeling pride swell in his chest from her admission.  He then bottomed out in one sudden push, and both he and Orihime shared a relieved sigh.  Her body cradled his rigid length, flexing just as he did.  Her cervix felt crammed under his unyielding weight, but the discomfort was mild, and Orihime was more focused on how much he split her.  It felt so… good.

            And Isshin hadn’t even started yet.  But he did.  He moved with great purpose, jabbing his cock back and forth, unwittingly fucking his daughter-in-law with an increasing tempo.  She caught at his shirt, moaning at him, calling his ‘Father’.  A strange roleplay to indulge in, thought the muddled father, but he was game.  Let her call him ‘Papa’ if she wanted; as long as she didn’t stop him.

            Harder and harder, he began to fuck her, grunting out her name and remarking how deliciously tight she was; her response was the slew of moans that made it through her lips as she bit her bottom one.  On a quest to properly reconnect with his wife, Isshin grabbed Orihime’s top and yanked it down.  Though he did not know it, the damage was easy for the event-rejector to mend.  Down came her top, and out surged her breasts.  Truly, they were much larger than Isshin remembered!  And he was grateful!  He took one in each hand and squeezed, her pink nipples peering out between his index and middle fingers.

            “Masaki, they’re wonderful!” he sobbed like she had handed him a gift he’d always yearned for – which was kind of the case, being a fan of presentable boobs from long ago.  He waited not an instant to duck his face in between Orihime’s huge tits and motorboat them, all the while driving his cock onward into her slippery depths.

            This was beyond the aid of a family member, yet Orihime did not utter protest; perhaps she could not find her voice as she rode up the incline leading to orgasmic bliss.  She hiccupped and stammered and got out his name a time or two, but her legs had begun to clutch around Isshin’s waist.  She had reached that point where even if Karin-chan woke up, even if Ichigo walked in, she wouldn’t want Isshin to retreat.  “H…!  Ha…!  Harder!” she finally got out, her hands snagging desperately to his shirt, feeling his solid body underneath.  “I’m almost…!”

            Isshin kissed her, kissed her hard and thoroughly, his tongue plundering her mouth with its bitter taste of alcohol while her insides were saturated with white waves that rolled into her uterus, hoping to bestow Kazui with a sibling.

            The familiar heat, the drenched scorching of ejaculation had been one that she’d not felt for some time; Ichigo always pulled out, but Isshin was determined not to.  He filled her with every drop, and in so doing, he unhinged her.  She cried out, hugging his happy face to her tits as her whole body shook.  Her muscles clamped down on him, squeezing out any reserves that had not yet been added to the reservoir now put in her belly.  She jerked her hips against him and felt his softening tip grind against her cervical wall until he lost enough length.  Yet he remained within, keeping as much of his seed corked within her well-worked snatch.

            A sigh of beer hit her face hotly; she was still reeling from the numbing orgasm while Isshin smiled down at her, called her a brilliant sun, and then fell atop of her.  His weight pinned her to the table, but it was not entirely uncomfortable.  She would, however, have to roll him off, clean him up and tuck him away before his son or daughters caught them in such a shameful state.


            Orihime’s heart leapt and her stomach sank.  All manner of contentment was stolen from her when she turned and saw that her son had caught her in the act of such debauchery.  He was too young!  “Kazui!”

            Kazui’s tired eyes observed her, and then his grandfather.  Isshin, much too exhausted to react, just gave him a small smile and continued to coddle the tits against his cheek.  The boy, of course, had descended to get a cup of water before going back to bed with Auntie Yuzu.  Instead, he was sidetracked by his grandfather seemingly hurting his mom.  But now they seemed – previously – relaxed.

            “Are you okay?” he timidly asked, still looking between her and Grandpa.

            “Y-yes,” she stammered out.  “Um, go back to bed, Kazui!  I’m… just cleaning up with your grandfather.”

            Kazui waited a little, took in the sight again, and then obeyed his mom.  Slowly, he walked up the stairs, reflecting on what he just saw, and taking to bed with him something he did not understand…

            Downstairs, Orihime exhaled.  Thankfully, her son was still young and could have what he saw be put into a different perspective.  He needn’t know that his grandfather had just had sex with his mom.

            “Ichigo sure is growing up to be a fine, young man, Masaki,” Isshin babbled, and then soundly fell asleep.

            For the best; Orihime would like to be with her thoughts for a moment.  Could she reject memories as well as events, she wondered.

            “Well, that was close.”

            For the second – maybe third – time, Orihime felt she could leap out of her skin.  Looking down over Isshin’s drooped body, she now saw Karin-chan, fully awake and sitting up on the couch.  And unlike Kazui, she had a perfect view of her father’s cock being neatly wedged in a pussy packed with semen.  The sight, of course, unnerved her, and she turned away with an exasperated sigh, rubbing her neck.  Why did she always have to get wound up in the troubles of her family?

            “K-Karin-chan.”  There was no way to talk herself out of this one; Orihime knew she was done for.

            “I’m not gonna tell Ichi-nii,” Karin immediately put her mind at ease, though she sounded exasperated regardless.  “It’ll just cause problems, so I’ll keep quiet.”

            Orihime gulped, and then looked off to the side.  Her face remained stained with crimson.  She wished she could waddle her way out from beneath Karin’s dad with some dignity, but just the merest shift was enough to unplug his softened penis and cause a torrent of his semen to hit the floor with a lewd spltch!  “How long… have you…?”  She needed to know…

            “When you were in between the geezer’s legs.”  Karin cringed as if the memory slashed at her.  She got up then, and to Orihime’s surprise, she helped roll the dozing dad off; she was unfeeling when his face smacked into the floor.  Afterward, she offered to help Orihime clean up, and they did so in silence for the most part.  But before all was set away, Karin looked at her sister-in-law from the staircase and cracked a dry smile.  “By the way, should I still call you ‘sister’ or ‘Mom’ now?”

            Orihime puffed with the steam of embarrassment.


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