Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Getting Dirty	By : c0p13r Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 11117 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: i don't own any part of 'Bleach' and i make no money off this fic

Chapter List
- 1-Getting Dirty
- 2-Coming Clean
- 1
- 2
ccc
The fingertip – well-moisturized and manicured, the fingernail glossy and pink – mashed against the roof of the dollhouse and swiped up for inspection. Riruka of course had a good sneer on. She suspected, and even if she was wrong to suspect, she would still contend to make her argument credible… although it took a moment of squinting and trying distance without her glasses.
“Aha!” She held out her finger as though the tiny smudge of dust was evidence to the crime of the century.
Jackie acknowledged her because she had nothing better to do; Yukio had his game.
“Look at this! This place is filthy!” Riruka stormed, waving around to the dark room with both arms. She spun toward the bar and fisted her hips. “Giriko! What do you think you’re doing?! How could you let this place turn into such a pigsty?!”
There was no answer at the bar. In fact, there was no oneat the bar. Normally, Xcution’s eldest member was there, cleaning dishes or fixing drinks. Not having him there, it looked like an entirely different place altogether.
Riruka took pause. Maybe he had ducked down? She forced her face not to drop its scowl, but how long was she expected to wait to reprimand the lazy old man?!
“He’s gone,” Jackie said, not wanting Riruka to stay frozen all day, waiting to give an outburst to someone who was not there.
Yukio wouldn’t have minded.
“Gone?!” Riruka’s pigtails flourished when she turned on Jackie, now having someone to target her glower on. “Where has he gone?! He lives here, doesn’t he?! And he did grocery shopping yesterday!”
“He stocked up provisions,” Jackie answered, wincing slightly under the grating noise of Riruka’s complaints. “He took his vacation. He told us about it weeks ago.”
“Vacation?” Riruka murmured, her posture slumping before she came to her senses, bursting with anger again. “Since when do we go on vacations?! I never heard of this before!”
“Because you don’t do anything,” Yukio stated bluntly, and glanced just briefly over his console to her. “You’re on vacation every day.”
Riruka gave a start. Her fists slid from her hips and quaked, and she wanted to chuck something hard at that stupid head of his. But that sort of violence wasn’t cute… So she’d hurl vicious words instead. With the right posture and manner, she taught herself, she could knock someone out better than any loser with big fists. “What was that, Yukio? You think I don’t do anything? I’ve been the one carrying the dollhouse back and forth from home! I’vebeen the one training Ichigo, while you just sit and play your stupid games. It must be hard for you to admit that you have absolutely nothing to contribute…”
“I pay for the building,” Yukio replied without missing a beat from his gaming. “And you don’t really do anything for Ichigo’s training. You just yell, and then sit down, eat cake, and get fat.”
“Wha?!!” Before fire could burst from the enraged Riruka’s mouth, Jackie snuck up from behind a clapped a hand over it.
“That’s enough,” she groaned like a mother who’d had enough of siblings bickering. Riruka tore free from her, shouting now that Jackie was the one who truly did nothing! Jackie wasn’t baited by taunts. She knew her worth to this organization, as did Ginjo. An angry girl wouldn’t make her think otherwise. But she was smart enough also to know that Riruka’s tantrum wouldn’t quell unless she got her way. “I’ll clean up, so you two can just take off for the day while it gets done.”
A generous offer, but Riruka’s anger still held. She grumbled in her throat, staring daggers at the taller woman as if sizing her up, wondering if her weak fist could hit Jackie’s jaw. The winner of such confrontation was obvious, though, and Riruka had to secede to this option. “Ha!” she burst, flinging her left pigtail with an air of grandeur. “Make sure that it’s spotless, Jackie!” She left through the front, and slammed the door closed behind her.
Already, the Xcution club was a better place, but that would only hold for however long Riruka was away. Jackie had not intended to take up this duty on an empty promise. She could feel the dust buildup; every step gave her a subtle, but still noticeable rush of adrenalin. So she looked to Yukio, and he made sure not to look back.
Her hand reached out. “Give me the card,” she said, disinterested.
Yukio took his eyes off the game. He frowned. “No.”
“You want this place cleaned, don’t you?”
Yukio resisted. “Giriko’s supplies…”
Jackie thrust her hand at him harder, her expression unmoved. Giriko’s cleaning equipment was in the broom closet next door, but Jackie wasn’t about to go dusting around in there. The slightest crinkle at her nose from Yukio’s refusal; at times, he could be more obstinate than Riruka. But at least he could see reason, and it wasn’t with small dissatisfaction that he took a credit card from his pants pocket and slapped it into her hand.
Like a wayward child after an admonishment, he slid from his seat and marched off. “Don’t go over budget,” he warned, just like he warned Ginjo when it came to alcohol expenses. But he had little control over what his partners did. Jackie felt free to do as she wished.
With Yukio and Riruka gone, Jackie had the whole club to herself. The privilege was rare, but she wasn’t one to truly exploit it. She was the only one amongst Xcution to actually have a residence.
The floor – and maybe the entirety of the room – could be taken care of with her Fullbring. Her boots attracted waste and debris, no matter how minute. A click-clack!of her heels would bring cleanliness to the room. Simple as that… if Jackie wasn’t someone who outright detested her powers. She preferred the life of the ordinary and modern, and that meant – when one wasn’t a woman to get on her hands and knees to scrub the floor clean – calling a jack-of-all-trades.
ccc One hour and a surprisingly energized phone call later ccc
“Here we are! Fast! Safe! Cheap! That is what you can expect from the Unagiya services,” recited the buxom mom now standing at the Xcution base’s doorway. She fixed her cap upon her head, smiling like some kind of car saleswoman.
Jackie, though having been given a sample of Ikumi’s personality over the phone, wondered if this was the right call. She looked the worker over from top to bottom. A sturdy woman, she had to admit, but she had to wonder if Unagiya Ikumi was alone in this venture. “Just you?” she felt compelled to ask.
Ikumi took no offense, and straightened her cap while flexing her stance “The Unagiya family has always gotten the job done, with or without help. My assistant…” Her eye impulsively ticked, and her mouth gave a frown. “… often runs late.” Or ignores her calls completely! She put back on her worker’s face, her smile back and bigger than ever! “Rest assured, whatever job you need done, I will see it through to the end!”
Jackie took a moment, her bland expression drooping as she considered the woman’s enthusiasm. Maybe she was going to get more than she paid for: a headache. Xcution was full of annoyances – Yukio’s sarcasm, Riruka’s haughtiness, Ginjo when he was drunk – but they lacked zeal like this. It might take some time for laidback Jackie Tristan to grow accustomed. Well, what need of her to hang around while the job was done anyway? Not much could be stolen – though Unagiya Ikumi didn’t seem the type – and whatever was taken, as long as it wasn’t his game system, Yukio would just replace… at the cost of that aforementioned sarcasm.
Sighing, wedging just her fingers into her tight pants’ pockets, Jackie meandered without purpose to the bar. Might as well name the job. “It’s just a routine cleaning,” she grumbled, her silky locks shifting as she turned her head to Ikumi waiting at the door. She gestured to the room. “It might be dark in here, but one of my… associates thinks it’s too dusty.”
“Say no more!” Ikumi said brightly with a wave of her hand. “The Unagiya shop specializes in cleaning, cooking, pet care, and every sort of job you can think of!”
Jackie’s expression drooped again. If you specialize in everything, then you don’t really specialize in anything, do you?
At once, from the side outside the doorway, Ikumi produced a bucket filled with scrubbing tools. Of course she knew the job was cleaning; Jackie had mentioned it over the phone. The tin bucket clattered as she set it down inside on the nice tiles. Quickly, she made sure of her contents to list what she needed to bring up. “A job this big, I’ll have to grab my other cleaning supplies!” Her excitement just didn’t let up, like she found boundless enthusiasm from a well from within.
Jackie lacked such depths.
Just as Ikumi was about to turn, the door opened, and the oblivious Ichigo announced his arrival with some snideness, “Okay, Ginjo! You aren’t answering, so what…?!” He stopped. He blinked like one of the two standing in the room would transform into Ginjo Kugo. But nope… that was his boss, standing there with the same sort of shock on her face. A syllable made it from his slacking mouth. That syllable tried again until it formed a name. “I-Ikumi-san?”
“Ichigo-chan!” The brightness of Ikumi’s face erupted with an even wider, more genuine smile than before as she clapped both of his shoulders. He flinched, as this was normally when she’d manhandle (or woman-handle) him with duct tape or rope. Instead, she showed actual joy to see him. “So you finally prove yourself dependable! I knew the exciting life of the Unagiya shop would call to your young spirit!”
“Wha-what are you…?” Ichigo trailed, and then thought back to over an hour ago. He received a call from her, and as usual – especially on lazy weekends – he ignored and went back to breakfast. His Fullbring training was more important than his wallet’s health, after all, though Ginjo seemed to be ducking his calls. That call from Ikumi must’ve been thisjob.
What were the odds?
Better to not act like he was intentionally dodging her. Smartly, he feigned a smile and agreed that he had come to work. He pointed a thumb behind him, realizing now that it was Ikumi-san’s car parked in front of this rundown building. “How about I go down and grab some of the supplies…? Gk!” The friendliness of Ikumi’s hand shoved his head down so that she now loomed over him. He sweated bullets. Her smile seemed less warm now; more the smiling guise of a demon now. The atmosphere shifted darkly about her.
“Now, Ichigo-chan,” she soothed him with the tenderness of sharp nails raking down his back. “I remember how you ‘get lost’ whenever you have to get stuff out of the van. You stay here and start cleaning. I’llgrab the stuff we need.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered meekly, adding an equally weak salute to his promise.
The relationship of employer and worker did not particularly interest Jackie; it was whothey were. She pointed a finger at Ichigo. “You work for Unagiya?”
Ikumi’s eyebrows lifted, her gaze turning between the two of them curiously. Ichigo-chan was thought to have been outgoing, but someone like Jackie and a place like this… Neither seemed like Ichigo would casually hang around. “You two know each other?” Déjà vu, she thought.
“Huh?! N-n-no! Not at all!” Ichigo hastened to say to keep his involvement with Xcution secret, though anyone could see through his bluff. His poker face was horrible, as Karin had told him whenever he tried to keep secrets.
He should be grateful that Jackie was a woman of tact, for if she was anything like Riruka… Hmph! You stick it in my butt, and then say you don’t know me?! Jackie just shrugged nonchalantly and kept his charade. “Never met him.”
Ikumi seemed unconvinced, but let it go with a simple “Hm.” Not her business, after all. She fixed her cap on her head, and then resumed her boss authority. She tapped Ichigo firmly on the chest. “Get to work on the countertop, and then start scrubbing the floor. I need to prep the mop before bringing it up.”
Prep the mop… A single mother in a backwater apartment couldn’t afford new handles; she had to switch it from the broom’s handle and re-secure it.
“Scrub the floors?” he repeated.
“That’s right,” she said as she moved past him. Rotating in the doorway, she addressed Jackie, smiling again and bowing respectfully. “Thank you for this opportunity!” And down the elevator she went.
Ichigo waited like the doors would reopen within seconds, and Ikumi-san wouldn’t let him alone with Jackie Tristan. But there was no avoiding it; no way for his boss to intercede and distract the two of them with her esotericism. He turned to Jackie with a face of tight discomfort; a stretched line for a mouth and eyes of avoidance. The job hadn’t even started yet, but he was sweating bullets.
Jackie, however, wasn’t amused. She simply tilted her head, pressed her weight to one side, and touched her protruding hip. Her frown quirked. “It shouldn’t take you this long to start, right? Your boss will be up…”
“What are you doing?”
Her frown deepened, though there was a flicker in her eye. “What do you mean?”
Ichigo’s chin tucked slightly. His usual bravado had taken a hit simply by being near her. She stood nonchalantly, but his vision flashed to nighttime, the night when she was sprawled onto his desk, the night when her bust was exposed to him, the night when he…
Growling nervously from his own lack of control, he accused her. “Why did you contact Ikumi-san? She had nothing to do with this. Besides, it’s you guys who don’t keep in contact…”
“Ah. You’re being a pain,” Jackie droned, putting a hand to the back of her neck to rub away the stress he was creating. Her olive eyes went on him. From the slim slit of her jeans’ pocket, she produced the Unagiya business card, waving it in front of her. “Kugo had it,” she explained, doing away with the unnecessary story. Ichigo’s faint recognition was enough for her, and she slid the card back in. Her arms then crossed, hands underneath her elbows. Her annoyance deepened. “Riruka’s been complaining, and Giriko is gone.” She shoved her hair out of her face. “I’m not about to clean the place myself, and Yukio would never bother to do anything if it meant doing what Riruka wants. I just happened to find that card.”
Ichigo’s mouth shifted slightly. It made… sense. Not many jack-of-all-trades around, after all.
“So,” Jackie began again, finally getting Ichigo to look straight at her, “are you going to start cleaning?”
Ichigo made a soft murmur. He glanced to the bucket of supplies, and then heaved a sigh of reluctant acceptance. Just think of it as another part of training, he told himself. “Yeah,” he said, and got to work.
He set the bottles and rags across the bar, where Jackie had also chosen to sit, and then filled the bucket up with water from the sink. They needn’t speak, and Ichigo wished there was a way for there to be no reason to stare at each other. But a night shared… It happened infrequently, but his glance did go over to her often, and hers never left him. Was she watching a worker do his job properly? Or was she sizing him up, determining the kind of man he was? He stiffened his bottom lip, turning his eyes up to the ceiling as he walked with pink splashed over his cheeks. If he kept his eyes upward, it’d be harder for him to be tempted to look at her. Even easier to avoid her when he picked out a spot and started cleaning. Brush, rag and bucket in hand; he settled down on his hands and knees in front of the couch and started there.
His back was against her, which was obviously deliberate. Jackie continued to stare at him. He was improving in training, but as a person… He acted like that night she came to him only strengthened the wall of his own conviction. A man normally strutted after such an incident, but Ichigo recoiled. He was still naïve, still an innocent who saw everything through the eyes of a spoiled kid.
“Hmph.” She removed herself from the seat.
Ichigo was scrubbing already, the white suds from the brush already turning murky. Maybe the room was due for some cleaning, though he didn’t see why he had to do it. Oh yeah: money. Well, at least there was that incentive.
“You’re distracted.”
Ichigo looked up and saw that the client had approached him. Her lethal boots stood just at the rim of where his brush had cleaned; still in the dirty realm. He looked up at her, not allowing his eyes time to trace up her form – up the long legs that had so strongly held him at the waist, or the nice, expansive breasts that had flattened against his sternum as he stuck her in the rear. No, he looked straight for her eyes and willed himself not to blush. It made him cringe slightly, but he held it together. “I’m doing my job, and you’re in the way.”
Jackie pumped a hip out to the side. She inspected Ichigo’s grimace for a good while like she was pressuring him to lose his composure. If that was her intent, Ichigo cracked easily, the line of his mouth breaking in a flustered grimace while his eyeline swerved. He was afraid of what they would take in if he kept her gaze.
“Have you matured at all?” japed Jackie in a stale tone. She took his proceeding glower, but it didn’t amount to much when he was blushing and on his hands and knees. “You don’t seem like you can figure out what’s important… if you’re still so dedicated to your employer.”
“You know I didn’t mean to come here for her.” He bit his words back, realizing how harsh they sounded. Ikumi-san didn’t deserve his disdain nor his inconvenience. “But… I’ll help her…” He preferred not to go too deep in those whom he cared for; tragic things happened when he was loose with his feelings, and he couldn’t say he fully trusted Xcution yet, least of all the woman who had prowled on him that night.
Jackie’s full lips turned in a soft but understanding smirk, like she suddenly had proof of a deep secret of his. When he asked what that look was for, she stated bluntly, “You have stronger feelings for your boss. Are you sleeping with her?”
The bucket of soapy water turned over with a splash that washed over her boots; she took a moment to sneer at the defilement. “It’s nothing like that!” he rejected when he lunged to his feet. His furrow was deep; he almost seemed intimidating to Jackie when he loomed on her, but she didn’t fold so easy, and why would she to a boy like him?
Her smirk sharpened. “Does that mean that I am the only woman you’ve known?”
His bravado was taken from him as quickly as it came, like life had been sucked away and left his face pale. “Uh… well…” He couldn’t come up with an answer for that before Jackie’s hands slid over his toned stomach. Beneath his clinging shirt, he felt her palms move along his belly, dipping along the grooved definition. His breath hitched immediately, but he tried to say that there was no need for him to answer her. His reactions were honest, though. Jackie needn’t even look to know that the front of his trousers had started to bulge.
Just from a touch… She’d deride him if she had a mind to stop. But his muscles clenched, his breath hitched, his eyes were on her. Riruka wasn’t wrong to be attracted on looks alone. She snaked a hand underneath his top to feel him. Just as her fingers splayed over his abs, he caught her wrists and showed her the strength of his arms. He locked her touch away from him, but that did not mean she could not feel him. In his haste to keep her from tantalizing him, he had put his body flush against hers, hard against soft. He felt the pillows of her chest squeeze up against him.
Off balance, she rocked back and took him with her. It must’ve been on purpose; he thought so, at least, when he found that they had fallen on the couch, her beneath him, legs curled neatly up on either side of his waist. He could not deny the intimate feelings that this stirred, though he did try. His groin nestled against hers. He felt heat and he was sure she felt rigidity from him.
They locked eyes. His worried, hers teased. “It wasn’t unlike this last time,” she murmured, her voice low but resonating and hot.
Ichigo swallowed as sweat beaded across his brow. One trickle ran along his jawline. “We… shouldn’t…” He made to remove himself and get his feet underneath him, but her thighs closed like a vise. The feeling was remembered, how her legs had caught him before and squeezed. His closed mouth shifted.
“Have you thought about it?”
“…”
“Your boss?”
“It’s not like that,” he growled again, softer than before.
Jackie was very unreadable, though Ichigo knew enough about her to know that she was not a humorous type, so when she said, “We could do it before she gets back”, he knew she was being earnest.
Damn her…
A part of him slipped, an urge that should be suppressed. He grabbed a tit and held it tight in his hand to make her huff and wait. He steamed, seething in frustration between gritting teeth. His fingers sunk deeper into the soft, ebony globe. “We can’t.” But his cock throbbed within his jeans; she felt it when she reached out for his zipper.
“She wouldn’t know.”
“No,” he refused again, and then shifted enough to help her better access his zipper, alleviating some pressure without extending him from his pants.
“I’m back!”
All sense drew back into Ichigo like the hard fist of a delinquent who hated his hair! He threw himself off Jackie in such a rush that he wound up on the floor like she’d thrown him. His ass splatted in the spilt water, but he recovered quickly, wheeling about and putting on the frantic smile of a boy nearly caught in shame. “Ikumi-san! You’re back!”
“Hm? Of course!” Ikumi stared questioningly at him. “What happened here?” The spill was bad enough, showing negligence to the Unagiya name, but Ichigo thrown in (she had arrived in time to see that much) and the client sloped against the couch as if she’d been tackled. She had done her share of investigative work for clients to know a questionable situation when she came upon one. She could come to the conclusion that Ichigo had assaulted their beautiful, exotic client and was thwarted… but she had more reason than to jump to that theory. Ichigo-chan was a pleasant boy and had his manners when they counted.
Still, she wouldn’t dismiss the sight altogether. With a small harrumph, she dropped the supplies she had brought to the side of the door (now closed) and went over to Ichigo. Rather than give him a hand up, she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and plucked him up like an undignified carrot. She held him aloft, an amusing sight for Jackie as she sat appropriately on the couch. “C’mon, Ichigo-chan! There’s no time to be sitting on our thumbs!” Ikumi jeered, and Ichigo, having feared that he’d been caught being inappropriate, just turned halfway to her and flashed an uneasy thumbs-up and a “R-right, Ikumi-san.”
True to her word, Ikumi got right on top of things, putting Ichigo out to clean in a corner – furthest place from Jackie Tristan-san – while she tended to the widespread spill. And while she went to her duty, the client set in comfortably, sliding one long leg across the other, not at all minding that she was halfway in Ikumi’s chore.
Ikumi chose not to mind, not when Ichigo’s questionable behavior might have put the client off. It was a rundown building, but the presentation of the room itself spoke of the client’s wealth. It would be a boon to remain in mind for them in the future. The Unagiya Shop was proud to maintain prolonged relationships with their business. Best to show her most tolerant side; and Ikumi preferred women clients – which were normally older than her – to men, who were awfully handsy.
Jackie glanced over to where Ichigo worked. It would probably amuse Ginjo, and that alone almost made her crack a smirk. However, she noted he was out of earshot – if she kept her voice down – and observed Ikumi wiping down the floor around her feet. “Is this the kind of work you normally do?”
Ikumi sat back on her haunches, beaming with that business smile again. “The Unagiya Shop is proud to accept a wide variety of odd jobs!” She spoke while folding her rag over, and then wagged a finger near her face. “From pet care to house repair to finding missing persons!”
Jackie recalled hearing that in the earlier phone conversation. But her interest was in the piqued arousal when Ichigo had mounted her a little while ago. Her top was thick, but beneath, her nipples had already swelled to pertinent buds. And her crossed legs caught and stifled the heat that had started to radiate from her groin.
“Does such a skillset include therapeutic treatment?” Jackie posed nonchalantly.
Ikumi’s response began with a look of confusion. “Th-therapeutic treatment?”
Her reaction entertained Jackie to a subtle smirk, and her eyes roamed Ikumi again. Heavy curves and sturdy, she was fair of face as well. That stern, hard-browed, stiff-lipped face she had turned on Ichigo was replaced by a softer and vulnerable expression, which took her back in age. She could be easy, susceptible to suggestion.
“My shoulders,” Jackie said, turning her head to one side to show off a good part of her neck where it met her shoulder. Her short hair flowed with her movement. “They’ve been stiff lately. If you are able to, I would request this service as well.” She gave a moment to gauge Ikumi’s reaction as she put the proposition together. Despite what Ichigo had speculated before, Jackie did have a well-rounded knowledge of fights and arguments. You don’t grow up with a father who openly deals in underhanded business without gaining a strict awareness of vicious reactions.
But Ikumi was not vicious with her answer. She just smiled and nodded. “Of course, the Unagiya family is renowned for their effective shoulder rubs!” She grabbed in the crook of her elbow to showcase pride and strength. “I have honed the skill since rubbing my father’s and mother’s shoulders when I was a child!”
Probably not a skill taught to Ichigo, Jackie accurately assumed, though proposing Ikumi alone was no matter. Her smirk broadened, still so intrigued. She took account of Ikumi one more time and was no less impressed. “If it isn’t too much trouble,” she said to seem aloof, like she didn’t have further expectations.
“It’s no trouble for the Unagiya,” answered Ikumi, who seemed to promote her name in nearly every sentence. She had set aside her cleaning products and extracted a notepad from her back pocket. With a small pencil in hand, she moved to the nearest blank page, where others had names and dates scribbled. “When would be the best time to schedule you for an appointment?”
Rather official for an odd-jobs team… It caught Jackie a little off guard to see it. And were she in righter wits, she would have ultimately declined. Who knew how she’d be feeling the day of the massage, whenever she might put it? Ginjo and Xcution was a load of stressed timing and constant management. Today seemed to be her only window to be reckless, and she chose to be so.
She leaned back again, dismissing her smirk to seem in charge again. Her breasts were heavy as her arms stacked together beneath them. “My shoulders are perhaps in more need of care than my floors,” she declared firmly, and Ikumi had to take pause to realize her meaning.
“Oh… You mean now?” It wasn’t entirely uncommon for a client to switch the job description halfway through work, but to go from floors to shoulders seemed like an entire turnabout. She looked over to where Ichigo toiled on the floor. Poor boy had finally come to work and seemed to be putting some oomph in it for once. But a massage was a one-person job, and discrete when it concerned females. Maybe a man – much older than Jackie’s age – would prefer the youthful strength of Ichigo’s rough hands and elbows, but Jackie-san seemed a gentler sort than he would be able to handle.
Jackie answered with silence and a look.
It seemed a shame and a waste to return the buckets, mops and sponges back downstairs without much use. But such was the unpredictable and exciting life of the Unagiya business! Ikumi could flip on a dime to meet the client’s needs! Sploosh!! went her rag when dashed into its soapy water. “Ichigo-chan! Time to pack it in!”
Ichigo, having cut an impressive wedge through the corner’s dust, looked up from his work. A dark smudge streaked across his cheek when he had taken a hand from his work to push away some sweat. He seemed baffled by Ikumi’s sudden declaration. And why wouldn’t he be? They had just gotten started! Not that he had meant to come to work – by providence and secrecy, he was there in the first place, after all – but if the job needed doing, he wanted to see it through. “Already?” he said out loud. He sat up, turning around to face the boss. “We only just started.”
Ikumi clapped her hands twice. “Yes, and it’s very good work done,” she commended him without the tone of a compliment, “but matters have changed. Now you can take the supplies back to the van, and then wait back at the office for our next assignment.”
Ichigo’s grimace tightened. She actually expected him to walk from here to the break room… and wait? For what?! Yet he kept his trap shut this time. It was a fruitless endeavor from the start, he figured. This would be one of those rare opportunities where he could forgo responsibility and start catching up on his TENKEN gaming.
“Fine,” he droned, plopping his own washcloth into the bucket. “I’ll take everything down.” That was all he planned to promise; she’d go home to an empty office space, but she’d forgive him.
Ikumi quickly made up her area, fisting her hands together as she mapped out how she would tend to the swapped task. Move the coffee table, maybe? Or was there a better place for her to get Jackie-san settled and get at her shoulders?
The Unagiya workers were certainly fast. Jackie gave credit to Ichigo for that, at least, even if he was a reckless slacker in training. Either too much gusto or too little thought; he had no balance to properly mold. She could kick him in the head all day, but she doubted he’d take any sense from it. Maybe a shoulder rub was necessary.
“I’ll see you soon,” Ikumi promised, and Ichigo lazily answered with a “Yeah, yeah” before putting her alone with their plotting patron. She rubbed her hands together with glee as if to warm them up, though the gloves were still in the way; Jackie wouldn’t appreciate them grinding against her soft skin. “I’ll just run down and grab the table in a moment. I don’t want Ichigo-chan to be curious.”
“The table?”
Ikumi lived for these moments of shocking the clients with her preparedness. “We’re prepared for any and allcircumstances!”
Impressive, Jackie could admit, just as she could admit that she’d like to lie down and let someone pulverize the stress from her muscles. However, they needn’t go through the trouble. The couch was fine enough, and she told Ikumi so; what she kept to herself was that they had stools, a coffee table, a bar, all suited for whatever she was up for.
When Ikumi – seeming saddened at the dismissal of her unused table – removed her gloves, she did so without any intention of seeming sultry. But the hungry eyes of Jackie watched the skin of her hands exposed, undressing for the one who put money in them. “I won’t be able to offer the full experience without the table,” she heard Ikumi disclaim while setting aside her gloves.
“It’ll be fine,” answered Jackie, now taking down the zipper of her top. She did so methodically, so subtle and so blaring that she knew Ikumi had reeled in a thought or two of her own when she steered her attention off to the side. Beneath her brown leather coat was a lavender tank top, one swollen at the chest with her bursting breasts and two distinctive peaks to either side. Not cold in here, Ikumi thought as her eyeline circled up to the uninteresting ceiling; cold enough, she figured for her client’s benefit. She shivered, and that was enough for her.
Ichigo-chan was strangely missed in this humid quiet. The sales pitches and can-do fervor seemed blocked up in her throat. She eyed Jackie-san again. The straps of her shirt were innocent lines over her shoulders, but they seemed wicked when loosed at her biceps, leaving the plane of her shoulders, collar and back unobstructed. The lacking bra seemed distressful too, though Ikumi could attest that she would often neglect to put one on if she wasn’t on a job. They helped carry her weighty bosoms, but at their size, every bra just seemed cramped and stifling; like the sports bra she wore now…
The breasts pressed down without the hug of her coat; Jackie almost seemed proud of their freedom as she stretched briefly, her arms knocking them against one another. She squeezed at her left shoulder, groaning as she pressed against the troublesome knot as if to give Ikumi some clue as to where the stress had mounted.
“It would be easier if you were lying down,” Ikumi confessed when she shuffled onto the couch with her, but Jackie assured her otherwise.
“It doesn’t have to be too thorough. I just have irritating cohorts.” Jackie closed her eyes, her skin jolting when the other woman’s touch met her bare skin. It hadn’t been since Ichigo that she knew another person’s touch, and so much longer being with a woman. Losing her composure for a moment, she curled into the massage when it started, pressing back to Ikumi with enough insistence that Ikumi paused to ask if she was alright. “It’s been a while,” Jackie truthfully answered, and let Ikumi warily carry on.
Jackie’s dark nipples had already puckered when the idea to seduce Ichigo’s boss had crossed her mind. Now that she was delving into the deed, they were sore from their prolonged neglect. It was not so easy to simply go about showing her needs to another woman; men’s desires presented themselves in a far more noticeable way. Erect nipples could be – as Ikumi had assumed – caused by colder temperatures.
“Mmm…” Jackie gave a wince when Ikumi’s hand pressed at the right spot. For such a lithe woman, Ikumi’s grip belied the thickness of her arm. She actually was as promised; Jackie could nearly forget the heat of her loins and let the massage unfold as planned. But that heat only mounted until her underwear felt sticky and hot. The moisture ran across the insides of her thighs. The white pants would surely suffer telltale signs if she got much wetter.
To Ikumi, though, this was a job that was going considerably well. Unaware of how soft her hard-worked hands were, she pressed into those stubborn lumps in the muscle, grinding them out to Jackie-san’s satisfaction. Only when Jackie jerked halfway did she worry that she was being too rough; Jackie told her she was not.
“I like it,” Jackie softly purred, a rare smile making its appearance on her face. She turned, her hair swishing softly as she regarded the woman behind her. “You have softer hands than I would have guessed. You listed so much work traits.”
Ikumi felt flattered. She was never concerned with the grit of her hands, but wore gloves just in case. But that she was still able to caress Kaoru-chan’s face without causing him to recoil from roughness was certainly a blessing.
She had taken the compliment well until Jackie’s own soft hand caught her fingers; a delicate cradle, more informal than a handshake, stronger than an accident. Ikumi swallowed and flushed when she saw how Jackie’s eyes twinkled as she stared at her. “Y-your hands are soft as well, Jackie-san,” she said nervously, and fumbled with the rim of her cap as she normally did when caught off guard.
Jackie only responded with a soft chuckle – “Hm…” – before taking drastic steps and latching her lips to Ikumi’s. The other woman stiffened from the touch, the sound of her awkward disapproval muted beneath the kiss. Jackie’s lips were larger, fuller than her own… and soft and smooth. She kissed better than the men who had kissed her before, and that included Kaoru’s father. And when Jackie retreated, she involuntarily chased for a moment before sense was reclaimed.
She greatened the distance between their mouths immediately. Her lips tingled. “Jackie-san,” she uttered amongst the cloud of confusion that rolled over her duty. She swung her eyes to the floor while the back of her hand tried to rub the gloss from her mouth. “I… I am here to perform a service, but that was…” Unexpected? Improper? Harassment?
It was all sorts of things wrong, but it did not waver Jackie. She simply smirked, for she remained in the position of power. She could identify a lonely, lovely creature such as herself. All of that business bluster nulled it, but Ikumi still had the look of a singular woman. And Ichigo all but confirmed that he was not sating her womanly needs. So leave it to Jackie once again to dabble where he was failing.
Audaciously – and without repercussion, she mused – she saddled one hand with the weight of Ikumi’s left breast; the sports bra worn was an annoyance, but squeeze, and Jackie could attest its plumpness. She felt Ikumi’s chest swell with a worried intake of air, but no solid protest was mounted against her. In that case, though Ikumi sharpened her breathing with a gasp, Jackie hooked a thumb underneath the restrictive undergarment and gave a firm yank. She succeeded only in freeing one in the deft stroke, but with a bit of insistence, the other dropped too, spilling slowly out of the effective support so that Jackie could analyze their similarities.
They were big! Perhaps a size fuller than Jackie’s set, but despite the muscle built up, Ikumi still stored a lot of fat that made her breasts plump and squishy; all but the tips, which were firm points that Jackie’s thumb confirmed. Ikumi’s flesh was streaked with sweat, so she could not blame the room for being too chilly when Jackie said, “Your nipples are hard.”
Ikumi had once broken a man’s thumb in a vise-like grip when he had pawed her rear end while she inspected the plumbing underneath his sink. She had made no jibe of a man not being able to fix a loose pipe, but after his assault and her reaction, she had said that he would have a harder time now without the use of his hand. Many had made passes at her along the way, one being clever enough to take her out of three dates before she realized that no job required her to look nice and enjoy herself; he always gave her the pretense that he needed someone to model nice clothes for his photography shoot, but there was always a reason that the shoot never happened: broken camera, assistant missing, clothes not cleaned. Well, she enjoyed it until he took her to an eel restaurant and said, “You must like eel, right?” She walloped him good for such a presumption.
But Jackie was no horny man; she was a woman, one that took her abruptly before she could resist. She felt deflated of muscle and air when Jackie bullied her into the side of the couch, Jackie leaning over her with a conquering grin. The men had seemed more arrogant in their audacity, but Jackie was the one winning her over… or at least putting her to submission.
They kissed again, but on Ikumi’s terms, her mouth lunging up at the one tauntingly hanging above. Ikumi couldn’t say why she would accept this, but she felt doubt melting away. Maybe, to be honest with herself, she needed to care of a woman rather than a bumbling man who led with his cock. Mistakes like that left her raising a child alone…
“This isn’t what I expected,” Ikumi said softly, once again wiping her hand at her lips – underneath, this time, letting the smoothness of Jackie’s lip balm linger.
“Few exciting things are,” Jackie mentored, and then impatiently brought up Ikumi’s shirt, tugging the hem over the hills and revealing what the imagination couldn’t. Ikumi consciously steadied their wobble with hands at their tops, but it was all fine for Jackie. She snatched one and squeezed so that the brown nipple swelled painfully. “Ow!” Ikumi ultimately gave when her resistance was tested; Jackie released after that and was much kinder onward.
The nipples of the mother were not as dark as her own, and while Jackie liked the way her own nipples suited the size of her breasts, Ikumi’s were larger still from pregnancy and breastfeeding. Not obscenely large, but they sat on Ikumi’s tits with pride.
One disappeared into Jackie’s mouth without any warning. In response, Ikumi grasped whatever her fingers could catch that was not the woman. Her milk had long dried up, but Jackie-san suckled more thirstily than Kaoru ever had; not at first though. First, she drew warmly and kindly, motioning her head along with the draw of her mouth. Then she started to get hungrier and hungrier until a mouth was not enough, and she had to grab onto the other breast to satisfy her need for them.
It was like gravity had increased; Ikumi pressed down so insistently on the couch that its frame might disjoint. “Ah~” It was a nervous moan, something she wasn’t sure she should let free from her mouth, but Jackie’s lashing tongue insisted that she sing. Her plump lips opened so the watchful mother could see the enthusiastic treatment of her nipple. The bud was pushed to and fro by the swiping, wet tongue, pressed down into the softness of her breast before the lips claimed its entirety again, closing in tight to pinch and show how far her suction could pull at the tit before it popped loudly from her mouth and wobbled to set.
Jackie still played with the other, dry breast, darting her forefinger across the rigid peak and watching it tumble back and forth. She watched a while longer, the grooves of Ikumi’s ribs appearing briefly during those especially-deep labored breaths, and then flashed her eyes upward. “Has your employee done this to you?” She wondered if Ichigo’s boss – an honest woman, it seemed – would provide an answer different to Ichigo’s.
“I-Ichigo-chan?!” Ikumi blurted like the idea was obscene and hadn’t once or twice crossed her mind when an irritated Kaoru inadvertently put the idea there. Once had been just a simple ‘what if…’ of Ichigo-chan playing father to her son. Another – and more – had been when her blanket was stifling, her hands adventurous, and her groin needy.
“He’s… my trusted apprentice!” she blabbed out, red in the face. She wished Jackie-san hadn’t suddenly cupped the juncture of her legs then, as if it was some way to test if she was telling the truth. And if it was the truth being sought, she’d been hot and growing wet since her first woman-shared kiss. Jackie leered heavily while working her fingers against the black jeans. Stubbornly tough and thick… She was better off taking care of the button and fly and surging right to the source. A thick thatch of hair met her journeying fingers, but it was the crest and the lips that interested her most. Ikumi might tuck her legs tight together, embarrassed or ashamed that she was not more ‘ready’ for intimacy, but Jackie showed no mind. “Stop” was breathed out, but a finger went in. “Ah!” Ikumi spouted again, this time louder as her whole body tensed up. Jackie’s middle finger went up her snatch, bathing in the dripping fluids of Ikumi’s arousal, the muscles condensing to scrub into her skin and tighten to hold her there. The digit receded, and then pumped back in.
“So he’s never been in here,” Jackie sounded almost disappointed. It was tight, and Jackie knew firsthand that Ichigo’s presence would not have left it so. He was missing out. A shame he had gone; if he’d stayed, Jackie was certain that she’d get him wedged up inside his boss at some moment of this interlude.
A second finger stretched the hole out further, and helpless Ikumi caught wherever she could to keep from blasting through the roof. Her head tilted back, nearly losing the cap. It took so long by herself to get to this point. Jackie-san was impressive! All the more so when Jackie’s thumb simultaneously wandered along that crest she had so blatantly ignored earlier. She smothered the nerves against its hood, cajoling it with rotation and strumming motions.
I’ll wet myself! Ikumi suddenly thought in alarm. The last time she had felt like this, she had erupted to the discovered knowledge that she squirted when so very aroused. She didn’t want to… There was little choice but to kick off her jeans and panties and give Jackie a shameless show of her orgasm. It was a difficult thing to convey without outright saying it, and Ikumi’s moans were so frequent, erratic and involuntary that she couldn’t get much of a word out edgewise.
“Are you not the worker here?” Jackie jibed, now looking Ikumi dead in the eye. Her smirk went sharper and her hand pressed harder. Ikumi could just about hear the squelching of Jackie’s fingers churning between her lips. “It seems I’m doing all the work.” Then she made her deepest plunge, shoving her whole self against Ikumi as she trekked to the end of the line.
Ikumi’s hat fell off when she screamed, a high wail of missing intimacy and gladness that she finally achieved it. There was no time to escape her pants and panties, and they wound up flooded with her timely release. When the stain occurred and there was nothing to be done, she gave into abandon and thrust against Jackie’s undulating hand, grinding and consuming the whole while her pants were soiled.
Jackie had honestly not expected such a flood. She was left gaping, but truly satisfied while Ikumi plopped down from thankful exhaustion. By the time the muscles holding her fingers let off, her hand up to her wrist was just about covered in Ikumi’s delightful release. As if testing, she egged the panting woman with a few pokes, but Ikumi could hardly stir and made small whines in response.
Jackie’s tongue swept swiftly across her upper lip. Lovely woman, but naïve if she thought she’d merely lie back and recover to be on her merry way. Jackie’s lusts were not stemmed by another’s gratification; she’d learned to take for herself. Grabbing a fistful of the front of Ikumi’s shamefully wet clothes, she gave a hard yank that brought them mostly down to Ikumi’s knees. They were tight, but Jackie would peel them off completely in due time. She noted the mound, the hair and the pink gape where her fingers had made the whole place glisten. Ikumi’s reserves closed up her thighs again, but her immodesty did not interest Jackie. She surged onward and kissed Ikumi open-mouthed; Ikumi, for all her candor of strength and will, was helpless to object.
“I don’t like to be idle,” Jackie whispered to her when their lips parted – only barely. “And I will not accept halfhearted work.”
“Jackie-san,” breathed the still-stunned Ikumi.
Jackie’s teeth showed in a sliver of white. “You now know what I expect.” She balanced on her knees so that both hands could catch the sides of her pants and black thong beneath. They strained over the curve of her jutting ass, but made it down, the strip of her thong peeling from between her cheeks just in time to catch Ichigo right in the face when he lazily opened the door, droning “I forgot my jacket… HUH?!”
“Ichigo!!” Ikumi covered her breasts immediately, but she had already been caught with hers and Jackie’s respective pants down.
No way of lying to get out of this, Jackie thought, still amused. They were… (copier licks his lips) COMING CLEAN!!!
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To Be Concluderated
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Getting Dirty