Trapped in the Closet

BY : c0p13r
Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 2498
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘Bleach’ and make no profit from this story

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"Wow, you certainly changed the room. It's a lot more girly than before."

"Don't act like you don't know this is Yuzu's room now," groused Ichigo, giving his longtime ally and pain-in-the-ass a denouncing scowl. "I already told you that downstairs… and the last time you were here."

But Rukia wasn't listening; the moment a stuffed rabbit – which Yuzu could never part with, along with all her other childhood dolls – caught her eyes, she was captivated and must dote on its cuteness. She picked it up and cuddled with it like it was her own child. And while her actual child's whereabouts were unknown, she turned to Ichigo with a sly smile and mentioned that his tastes had certainly changed too.

"It's Yuzu's," he said more firmly than last time. He rubbed the back of his neck irritably. "Jeez, it's like you come here to give me a headache."

Not her intent, but she enjoyed it all the same, smirking at him secretively. She kept the bunny plushie close to her cheek as she rounded about the room; Ichigo glanced towards her, and while it almost felt familiar, the length of her hair – now down to the backs of her knees – threw off the nostalgia.

"There's not much to see in here anyway." He turned to the door, his sluggish posture remaining as he dragged his feet. "C'mon. Let's go back downstairs. Orihime probably has snacks…"

Sssssht… The sound of the closet door sliding open; it made Ichigo's posture rigid. Was Rukia paying a visit to her old 'room'? He looked past the partition, and sure enough, Captain of the Thirteenth Squad had crawled within and out of sight. "This hasn't changed much. Was it your idea?"

Ichigo walked around to look in at her. She was on the stored futon, leaning back comfortably as she had done so many years ago, looking no less comfortable in the close quarters. Her leg drawn up, purple eyes shimmering in shadow, she seemed very mysterious… very luring.

"Tch!" Ichigo swung his head away like he was forced to. "Why would I even want to do that? It's just a closet."

"Oh?" Rukia sat up almost like a puppy. Ichigo winced at her posture; she was not acting very mother-like. He'd expected Ichika to help mature her a bit, but it turned out his hopes were too high (like he was one to talk). Her legs sprawled out slightly beneath her, and she leaned forward on her straight arm. At that moment, Ichigo saw how motherhood and this sundress had helped her figure somewhat. At least there was now some cleavage to actually ogle.

"I would think you would want to preserve the memory of this place."

"What are you talking about? Don't be stupid," Ichigo feigned his naïveté poorly.

It didn't matter, for he could deny it, but Rukia knew the truth; having been a participant and all. She poured herself against him, and before he could chastise her action, she had saddled his crotch in the palm of her hand. She held him and smirked at his delayed reaction. "Do you want to say that you don't remember?" she purred, reacquainting herself with the cock she had known before taking her husband's as her only. A vow to be broken in secret?

Ichigo wouldn't allow it! He caught her hand before she could insist on her mesmerizing strokes. He pulled, but she stayed. Perhaps he was careful for the tender valuables she snatched; perhaps his will wasn't in it…

"Rukia," her name dragged out harshly.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten?" teased the newly-appointed captain as she began to caress his groin, where once it had been loose now began intent tightening. She chortled, discerning his length as it started to take advantage of the looseness of his trousers. He said her name again – whispered this time – but she spoke over him, "It was you, after all, who opened this closet in the first place."

Ichigo growled like a weak, threatened animal, his eyes rolling off to the side as he envisioned that night. She'd been provoking him all day, nothing new, but when she deliberately crawled into the closet, her rear presented and a 'come hither' glance over her shoulder in the lamplight while he read Tatsuki's latest JUMP, an invisible force known as adolescent arousal brought him to follow her, and she had been more than willing that night to instruct him on something other than Hollow hunting…

Nothing like having your first time thrown back in your face. Again, he growled, but he succumbed quickly when Rukia eased up to kiss his lips. So much more fierce that his wife; kissing led to her biting on his bottom lip, pulling before releasing with a haughty smirk.

"Renji won't come up," she assured him.

Ichigo didn't want to do the same. He didn't want to make her feel safe that Orihime would not poke her head in to check on husband and guest. For one thing, this was wrong! For another? He wasn't sure that his wife wouldn't show up unexpectedly.

But that was a gamble Rukia was willing to take as she led Ichigo's hand beneath her dress to find her crotch. Smooth satin; probably white, he shamefully guessed, knowing from personal experience that she liked solid colors, and the predictability of snow users.

Guided but not persuaded by her hand, Ichigo lunged for her groin and took satisfaction from catching her off guard with a gasp and moan. Heh! If she was challenging him, there was no way he'd back down; even less chance he would lose! He reached for the waist of her underwear and dove beneath where it was hot and humid and the softness of fur brushed against his traveling hand.

Yes, she had taught him much on that first night – and following night patterned throughout their earlier history – but like his swordsman craft, he'd eventually taken off and learned on his own. He touched her cleft underneath the slim patch of hair – she styled now, he noted – and found moisture there. The tiny woman huddled against him, her hot sigh touching his collarbone.

"Tch!" Ichigo cringed, a sweat drop rolled down his cheek, yet the room had a very nice draft for this time of year. His other hand rounded her and supported the small of her back as he fussed beneath her panties. "We shouldn't," he acknowledged, mentally reprimanding himself as much as her. Then his finger sunk in, remembering the tight warmth of her insides, how sticky she was on his hand. Two fingers drove in, and Rukia bit back a mewling noise; Ichigo liked that, liked making the bossy shrimp's mouth quiver.

It was all sorts of wrong, and he told her this again. "Perhaps that's why you enjoy it," Rukia taunted him, her reddened face aglow with perspiration. Ichigo pressed in harder, covering her with his taller frame.

"We can't again," he cautioned her, and she agreed with a shrewd grin. He always said that before…

She reached for his groin, and the zipper came down with a forceful tug that caused him to wince. He was already straining within his boxers, but Rukia's nimble little hands promised relief soon. He couldn't even stop the grateful sigh when he sprung out between the folds of his boxers; Rukia went the extra mile to transport his undercarriage as well, one and then the other. She cradled, then thumbed the baby-makers.

"Kazui is a handsome boy," she teased, her fist then tightening on him to get a gasp. "He takes after his mother mostly."

Ichigo, tense as she fondled his sensitive spheres, grimaced and told her to shut up. She just chuckled and loosened her grasp. That was enough. He was out of the danger, and could now make his move. Rukia was spun around and bent towards the futons; her hands reached out instinctively for the support. And Ichigo tossed the hem of her dress upward, and her panties were drawn down… but not by much. In fact, if he was planning to slide into her, he'd have to push them down more. When she told him this – "Lower, fool!" – he scoffed and said he knew what he was doing.

"Ah!" Rukia jerked with an uncertain gasp when Ichigo's intentions were made known. There?! The presumptuousness of it! The nerve and audacity! Orihime must've conjured the inner pervert that Rukia had always known existed.

And it wasn't like Rukia was new to the exploration either. Renji was wild in bed, and very explorative when she gave him reign. Again, she made another heavy gasp, this one more stable. Her backdoor pressed inward under Ichigo's insistence, but she did not yield all at once. Only after he swore softly and pressed harder than he was entirely comfortable with did he pry her open and carefully fill out her bowels. The pre-cum helped, and the fact that he had deliberately smeared her own juices back there during the fingers also eased his passage. She would've preferred some oil of some kind, but they had to make do with what spontaneity offered them.

Ichigo worked his hips in a saw-like manner, back and forth, slowly but surely getting deeper and deeper into the cut until… "Ah~…" He pressed against her pert peach – having to bend his knees a little to match the significant difference in height while she put herself on her tiptoes – and relaxed.

Rukia, trembling as if caught in Aizen's reiatsu, inhaled through her nostrils and exhaled through her lips, bearing down on him as she remembered just how long he actually was, and how the years had enhanced that.

"You do it like this with Orihime often?" she finally mustered, and again, he just told her to shut up. No time to think about his family; no time to think about his betrayal…

He began, bumping lightly against her ass, his left hand holding her waist for support while his right brushed aside her long, dark hair. Long hair certainly made her look womanly, but the front attributes… They dangled a little now. Being a mother gave her an upsize in bras, but she was no Orihime… Ichigo shook away his wife's name, and pinched at Rukia's hidden brown nipples to bring a heated seethe from between her clenching teeth.

"You idiot," she hissed at him, grabbing the closet frame for support. Her firm cheeks squished back against him, and his cock pressed harder on her walls. She was tight for a while, but his to-and-fro had convinced her tense passage to yield, though the involuntary contractions were not unwelcomed. Each shuddering hug made Ichigo feel that he would loose his seed, but he held on just as he held onto Rukia's breasts – with both hands now, slipped through the arm-holes of her dress. No bra; almost like she planned this.

What wasn't planned was the door opening, and Orihime poking her beaming face through. "Ichigo~! The food is ready~!"

"Gah!" Ichigo almost flung Rukia on the ground. However, they remained united, and perhaps that was for the best. From her vantage point, Orihime could only see half of him around the wall; the incriminating half remained a secret. Sweating bullets and putting on an unconvincing smile, he faced his wife while his balls retracted. "O-oh! Orihime… Heh-heh…" She was never frightening and always forgiving; that didn't make him any less afraid. "Rukia just wanted…"

"I wanted to see my old room!" Rukia butted in in a daring bid to seem like nothing was out of the ordinary. In so doing, she threw herself in the line of sight, shoving her shoulders and head against Ichigo's sternum, flexing her back impressively to hide the sin. She was also red and sweaty, but Orihime wasn't one to think much of it. Her imagination could sweep her to fantastical ideas, so best not to ponder.

"I made the food," she said with a happy point down the way she'd come up. "I hope you like it! It's one of Yuzu-chan's recipes, but I added my own flavors."

Which did not bode well for a normal person's taste buds, but to get her moving, Ichigo readily said that they'd be down in a minute. Orihime nodded, and then said to Rukia, "Renji-kun is still downstairs. Um, I think he's waiting for you." She slapped on a smile with a sweat drop on her temple. "He seems a little restless."

Rukia simply smiled back at the update of her husband's behavior and told Orihime not to worry. Ichigo cringed, for when she said that, her cute little butt moved against him, daringly pushing as if she wanted Orihime to notice what was going on. "We're almost done here anyway," she promised, her hidden hand reaching beneath her legs to give his balls a good squeeze. His cheeks puffed slightly, barely catching the shuddering moan. But Orihime was none the wiser. She just smiled, leaned in to give Ichigo the most mortifying and traumatizing kiss of his life, and reminded them to not let the food get cold.

And though waiting on pins and needles, Ichigo and Rukia breathed a collective sigh of relief. And it was Rukia to recover first, smirking and saying, "Was that the most exciting thing to happen in your clinic since you took over?"

He wouldn't be badgered by her, not now. With Orihime downstairs, Ichigo felt confidence swell in his chest, and he threw himself mightily against the small woman. "Yah!" She yelled loudly in pain and shock as he bullied her into the closet where she fell over the stored futons and had her ass lifted until her toes dangled centimeters off the floor. Again, she swore at Ichigo, but not once did she tell him to stop. His cock rushed through her asshole until it burned, and even then did not hesitate.

He did well enough checking himself, biting back his groans to severe winced and husky breathing. Rukia, on the other hand, bit into the bedding and smothered screams into the cushion as she came. A snitching mess all over his lap; Ichigo would have to come up with a clever reason as to what it was and how it happened or why he swapped trousers. Though her right hand clawed at the futon as if to rip the fabric as a testament to their adultery, she slipped her talented left to her gushing gash and found her pearl. She spoiled herself with vigorous petting, wanting to relive the excitement of climax to a higher standard, and Ichigo help to shorten the span of her wait. She came again, or maybe her first orgasm was rekindled to an explosive degree; her lover's hand snuck to join her own, and while she fiddled with that pleasure point, he had no reason not to aim and stick two fingers through her snatch. Her body grabbed at the digits whilst they flexed within her, meddling with her vaginal grip, fighting to keep her contracting walls apart while discovering the ridge that brought about her next wave of ecstasy.

"Ichigo," she breathed into the mattress, half of her face buried against it and the other half obscured by her long hair. Looking at her now, he was reminded of their first time. Gentler, quieter, softer… He discarded all those, grabbed Rukia by the head and forced her in place as he made those last defining strides until an unmistakable wail rose up and broke the uneasy silence of the house.

And then Rukia felt all of his endeavors flooding into her, the shaft expanding her anus just slightly as it filled with an unstoppable liquid surge. She sighed, feeling Ichigo's tight hold lose its strength so that her feet may come to rest gently on the floor. But that peaceful moment of after-sex basking ended with an unladylike "Oomph!" when Ichigo's full weight came down on her back, forcing her face downward into the cushion. Her arms flailed outward until she finally clocked him in the chin with her elbow. He reeled and she surfaced with a scowl. "Are you trying to smother me now?! Stupid!"

Ichigo sneered, but said nothing. Truthfully, he was more used to Orihime. She liked it when he fell on her post-orgasm, and it'd become a habit.

Now the time for separation had come. Rukia rolled on her side and used Ichigo's shoulder to prop up her right leg, keeping her thighs wide apart so she could witness the dismount at an angle. It kind of embarrassed Ichigo; he was never flashy with his wife, though she was more open than he. Still, carefully, he drew out of her like bringing a tired Zanpakuto from its sheath. And after his head uncorked her, her now-open hole lost a white river of his contribution. Embarrassed or modest, Ichigo still couldn't help staring until Rukia's small fingertips went to the hole; not for her own embarrassment or modesty, but to pet the semi-sore area and play with his cum. "It's a lot," she observed with the same shred smirk, feeling the bulk of his ejaculation remained within her.

Ichigo wasn't about to divulge the activity of his sex life with Orihime, though she could probably guess that work and parenthood got in the way of marital activities. Ichika, after all, was old – and powerful – enough to stay out by herself all day, and a captain's quarters were often very secluded when the order was made.

"We better get down quick," Ichigo said while staring at his gooey dick and hoping that Yuzu had a good stock of tissues handy. "Orihime said that Renji was getting antsy, and…" He cut off midsentence when Rukia went to her knees in front of him, and shot him a wry smirk.

"Don't worry about him," she consoled him coolly. As Ichigo began to jabber, her hand went to his flagging cock, steadying it. "I'd say we still have a little more time."

Ichigo wasn't sure what he was more shocked about: that Rukia was ready and willing to test their luck again and had the stamina for it, or that she so abruptly shoved his cum-glazed dick into her mouth down to her throat when it had been in her ass not a minute earlier.

He didn't fight it though. He just grabbed her head with both hands, leaned back, and chased the hard-earned second orgasm.

ccc Meannwhile, downstairs ccc

"They've been upstairs a while," Orihime pointed out quietly. "They should be down soon."

"They'll probably be a while. Heh. You know how those two are."

"… Are you sure we should?" Orihime gasped softly when Renji, smirking toothily, uncovered one of her luscious bosoms from her loose blouse. Immediately, his big hand grabbed the hefty mound of flesh, heated with embarrassment and thrill. The nipple had puckered; a stiff peak of pink. She mewled as his smirk rubbed into the breast and tasted her soft meat with his tongue. "What if they come down?" Her voice was softer than before, as if Ichigo and Rukia were in the next room instead of upstairs. Already – first and foremost, in fact – Renji had tossed up the hem of her dress and did away with her strawberry-printed panties to reveal her well-groomed muff.

"This won't take long," Renji assured her, his wolf's grin showing sharp canines against her tit. He had already taken himself out through his zipper, and Orihime felt its bluntness wedge between her cheeks. Back there, she gasped worriedly, and Renji answered with an eager nod.

"Ichigo hasn't…" been there for a while, but she bit her bottom lip before she could share that with her houseguest. Renji promised to be gentle as he steadied his aim with his fist, found the hole clamped shut, and pressed hard. Orihime exhaled heavily, muttering one last meager protest before Renji's thick cock pushed through her asshole.

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