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Punk Bitch	By : ZackaryAndersonJ Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3036 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any recognizable characters, artistic inventions, etcetera. Tite Kubo drew and wrote it, Viz Media published and licensed it. I make no money from writing this fanfiction. Any Lyrics posted belong to their respective

Chapter List
- 1-Punk Bitch
- 2-Flirt (With Me)
- 1
- 2
CHAPTER 2WO: FLIRT (WITH ME)
Flirt (With Me) belongs to Zeromancer.

You lost your self respect
You gave it all away
For no good reason
What were you thinking
Flirt with me
If you want me to
(I'll do it for you) (x3)
Flirt with me
When you got that
Smile on your face
That look in your eye (x2)

Rangiku looked over her shoulder as a hand slid a wad of money into her thong strap.
“Hello!” she thought. He wasn’t exactly her type and she wouldn’t really go home with him, but she would go backstage with him for a round or two. She stood up and let her bra fall away, breasts bouncing as she stood up and turned around, looking at the men she was showing her goods to as they stared at her goodies. A few winked at her and some were rubbing their groins; Shuuhei sure was. Ichigo wasn’t looking at her, she pouted and shifted her weight onto one hip causing the “girls” to bounce a little.
Oh. He was looking at that man. Both stood up as she backed away till her rear hit the pole behind her. She reached behind her and grabbed it with both hands over her head, sliding down with her legs spreading before she released the pole and stood back up quickly, bending forward and flipping her hair back as she did so. The men loved that and threw more bills at her. The two men she was watching walked away, Ichigo watching the taller man as he headed to the bar. The brunette, the muscular man with the rough but still sexy hands and features, was heading to the VIP. Hm, so he had money…. He turned around and looked at Rangiku, winking with a tilt of his head to the room and a delicious smirk on his face. Oh, hell yes!

Rangiku sauntered out from backstage in a light pink mini (very mini) skirt, a white button-down shirt, and black high-heels that were accompanies by white thigh-highs. Her shirt was nearly low enough to prove that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her skirt was just about mini enough to give everyone a peek of the only thing they hadn’t seen on stage—her more private lady-bits. In her shirt’s breast pocket was a condom that she damn well planned on using!
Rangiku walked into the VIP section, winking at the useless body guard that stood posted at the entrance as she passed him. Immediately zoning in on that tall and muscular hunk of a man, Rangiku made a beeline for him. He was sitting in a booth. Booths were reserved for either the big money spenders, or the poor souls that Urahara knew personally or was trying to suck up to. She was leaning more towards the possibility that he was a money-spender in hopes of getting a few bucks out of this. He stood up as she slid passed the booth, trusting him to follow her as she made way towards a narrow hallway.
“We got beds in this place just down the—” A calloused hand clasped her shoulder, turning her around and shoving her into a wall in the same movement.
“I ain’t plannin’ on sleepin’ with ya, woman. How ‘bout I jus’ take ya here?” The large man’s leer turned her on. Well, it was either that or how forceful he was being. She never did mind her men being a little rough. Rangiku smirked back, wrapping a leg around his hip and her arms around his shoulders as she lowered her voice slightly,
“Please, do. Condom’s in my pocket.” She arched into him as he made quick work of undoing his fly and popping open the button of his pants, one hand trailing under her skirt. Kenpachi chuckled when his fingers were met with the moist lips of her unclothed pussy. His lips connected with her neck, biting roughly with enough pressure to sting and pinch but not enough to leave marks. No one liked a stripper who was marked up after all.
Rangiku moaned as he wasted no time in plunging a finger in, one hand buried itself into his long black locks while the other came into contact with his warm member. It was thick, her fingers wrapped around it and didn’t even touch each other, and as she slowly jacked him off she noted just how long it actually was. The right hand that was groping his breast moved into her pocket to take a hold of the condom placed inside it. As his head moved to switch sides of her neck he caught sight of the size, medium. Well, that wasn’t going to work, it was a size (maybe two) too small. He reached back and pulled a condom from his own back pocket. He hadn’t necessarily planned on laying the pipe when he left home that night, but it was always better to be prepared than it was to be left handing high and dry. As he ripped the packet open and rolled it onto his member with one hand, the other hand worked the busty strawberry blonde open—not that he really needed to. The woman was pretty loose, not overly so, but enough to the point where sliding two fingers in was like sliding a foot into a shoe several sizes too large. Kenpachi held back the sudden urge to roll his eyes and removed his fingers. Why even bother, he figured.
With the condom in place, Kenpachi put his hands on Rangiku’s hips. She giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist, fingers playing with the hairs at the base of his neck. Sliding in to home base was anticlimactic. It briefly crossed his mind that the condom he was wearing was tighter than the red-head was, and he smirked. Rangiku mistook that smirk, however, for him enjoying what she was surrounding his dick with.
“Like that?” She asked, lowering her voice into a husky drawl. He snorted and began moving his hips. Her moaning and light panting accompanied by her hushed encouragements did nothing for him but distract and annoy him. He clenched his eyes shut and crashed his lips onto hers in an attempt to shut her up. In a sense it worked, but he didn’t want to know where else her mouth had been. Moving his hips harder and faster, Kenpachi thought of every attractive human being he ever saw in attempt to be over and done with Rangiku. With the image of various males and females in his head, Kenpachi decided that it just wasn’t working. Instead, he brought a hand down to Rangiku’s sex. If he couldn’t finish himself off, he’d finish her off and fake it.

Ichigo wasn't drunk... But he was tipsy. Nursing his last drink, Renji refused to refill the half empty glass, Ichigo moped to himself.
"Stupid Rangiku," he thought. "Just HAS to spread her legs and the lips between them for whoever I think is attractive. Slut." He downed the rest of his mixed drink and stood up on wobbly legs. Regaining his posture and composure, Ichigo strode towards the dance floor.
Ichigo's head rolled back as he lost himself in the drop of the bass and the rhythm of the beat. His hips swayed and his lips parted as he perspirated lightly. Bodies flowed around him in the same way as he did, mindlessly enjoying themselves and doing so without the need for a partner. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck as a pair of large hands grasped his hips from the behind.
With a tight grip, they pulled Ichigo back until his rear came in contact with someone’s groin. Ichigo grinded back as the large and strange man grinded into him. Rolling his head back, it came to a stop at the man’s shoulder. Ichigo tilted his head to the side to look at the face of the man currently rolling his hips, which felt more like dry-humping, his rear. His mouth opened in a silent gasp.
Hadn’t he left with Rangiku?

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