Only Fans

BY : c0p13r
Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘BLEACH’ and make no profit off this fic.

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Ichigo considered his marriage… different. He didn’t think it was ‘open’ in that he never had to worry that he’d some day walk in and see his wife in bed with Chad, Mizuiro or – heaven forbid – Keigo. That didn’t mean that others hadn’t shared their bed; other women. Nel, Riruka, Yoruichi-san, but Tatsuki, mostly, visiting a friend that inevitably escalated to sensual, awakening sex. Ichigo had once walked in on Tatsuki burying her face between Orihime’s tense thighs, lapping relentlessly at his wife’s honeyed slit. His reaction was to undress and dole out the punishment for two very bad girls. Not normally a spanker, that night he was, clapping Orihime across the ass and fucking so fiercely that even Tatsuki had to reach behind her to stall the throw of his thrusts.

Tonight, Ichigo would be the bad one. So persistent was the girl, stalking him on social media and stealing snapshots of him whenever she visited the Human World. She invited him – and his wife – for some fun, but Orihime was indisposed, and he was more interested to putting her infatuation with him to bed, no pun intended. He had resisted when she first made her intentions known, but he’d learned that women like her – the ones that acted like teenagers – wouldn’t let up ever. Might as well indulge. His cock was hard enough when he rolled his eyes, grabbed her by her exposed midriff, and threw her over his shoulder. As he carried her home, she gabbed on and on about this going on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, etc. He rolled his eyes. Damn gyaru…

“So this is the hero’s home! A clinic too! Always being a hero! #everydayhero, amiright?”

“Quiet,” Ichigo groaned as he took her upstairs. The household was empty, which was the only reason he decided to do it. That didn’t mean he needed to hear her jabbering away about stuff he hardly cared about himself. He made a mental note to delete all those pics she was taking of his home afterward.

“Whoa!” Yayahara Yuyu lifted up on Ichigo’s shoulder, twisting herself in the loop of his arm, inadvertently introducing the side of his face to her ass. “And Kurosaki Ichigo-san’s room! Everyone’s gonna go crazy! And that’s the bed?! It’s amazing!”

Ichigo cringed. Nothing amazing about a bed purchased on a limited budget starting out, a set that was discounted due to unpopularity. Still, if she liked it so much…

“Here.” He dumped her suddenly on the bed; she laughed regardless, putting her phone on her.  She was so irritating…

She thumbed expertly through her apps – Why did Urahara-san have to supply such unnecessary and inconvenient things to Soul Society? What if normal people followed this weirdo and learned of the supernatural and (worse) Kurosaki Ichigo and his crew?! – and got her camera fixed on her for one of her media platforms. “Hey, guys! What’s up! It’s Yuyu-chan coming at you from” – Pause for a quick, blurry surveying of the room – “Kurosaki Ichigo-san’s bedroom! That’s right! I’ve been saying it all this time, and it’s finally gonna happen! The hero of the Quincy war is gonna fuck me, and I’ll get it all on camera!”

“No, you’re not!” Ichigo snatched the phone and ended the live streaming. “It’s going to happen, and then it’s over!”

“Ha! That’s fine,” Yuyu said, leaning back on her elbows and kicking her legs lazily in the air before demonstrating their flexibility, clapping her soles together and holding down her knees to show off the underside of her skirt. Ichigo let himself glimpse the thong underneath, riding deep in her creases. “I’ll just do an update post, detailing everything.” She sat up, suddenly enthused with his crotch. “How big is it, anyway?! I bet it’s huge!” She spaced out her index fingers, past the length of her body, delusional about what Ichigo fit in his trousers.

He wanted to start by shoving it in her buck-toothed mouth, just to shut her up for a minute.  The minute his t-shirt was off – unceremonious in its removal – Yuyu howled with excitement. She sat up at the edge of the bed and coursed her fingernails down his chest, inflicting an outbreak of goosebumps from Ichigo’s flesh. “You are jacked! You should model instead of… whatever it is you do!”

Ichigo’s cheeks went ablaze. “I run a clinic, and I’m a transla-hey!” It caught him off guard when her mouth lunged at him, biting at his left nipple.

“Let’s do the interview afterward, okay?” She kept her chin on his chest, flicking her tongue out to tease his nipple some more. “I’ve been wet all this time.”

That lewd mouth of hers probably got her in all sorts of trouble in Soul Society. Ichigo snorted and then put his efforts to downing his pants; an unveiling Yuyu was most looking forward to. He had to admit, he enjoyed it too; the reactions and visible anticipation on the women’s faces before his cock struck out. His pants, followed by his boxers, followed by an exaggerated gasp of marvel.

“It’s bigger than I thought!” she exclaimed, though it seemed insincere when she had estimated him earlier at two feet. Yet her awe was not diminished as she went eye-to-eye with his rearing beast. “Oh man! I’ve never seen one so big!” She grabbed it audaciously before looking up at him. “Let me take a selfie with it!”

“No pictures, I said!”

Grinning regardless, Yuyu resigned to his unflinching rule and busied herself with the plaything in her hand. True enough, it was larger than any she had come face-to-face with – though the largest she’d seen was on internet, but those seemed grotesque and a bit too much. And Yuyu was not short on sexual experiences. She could brag about being the focus of gangbangs, trains, pile-ons, all sorts of orgies before and after her lieutenancy. Captain Yadomaru Lisa even made it an activity to steal underwear from other squads, which led to a frisky female frenzy between her, Captain, and Lieutenant Matsumoto.

But neither here nor there, Ichigo-san proved his lingering stature. Eight inches of unyielding cock, poised in her hand and thumping readily. And he trimmed! He cut back his pubic hair to a single patch. Did he use a razor or wax? His balls felt smooth to the touch when her hand worked its way down to cradle them.

She grinned when she got an idea, and then shared with Ichigo-san. She relinquished his cock, something that made his face give a tic of annoyance. “Watch this, Ichigo-san,” she purred as she sat back on her haunches, her hands coming up to her top.  Before he could blink, it came undone, and her hefty tits came floundering out. Two supple globes, jostling into one another before coming still… They were deeply bronzed, but the tan lines of whatever skimpy bra she wore in the sun placed her pink nipples in a triangle of lighter skin. The areola puckered and puffed out the nubs even more, wanting to be played with.

“Like them?” she asked, cradling them up in her thin hands, purposely presenting her swollen nipples between her fingers. Ichigo’s eyes flickered up from them. His stoic demeanor didn’t change, but there was certainty that he was interested; his cock throbbed and produced a good glob of precum. Yuyu noticed this and bit her bottom lip before once again catching eye contact. “You know what I want to do now? I want to give the hero of the Quincy war a paizuri.” She gestated, awaiting his answer with a goofy/sultry grin.

Ichigo was married to Orihime. He was no stranger to breast-play. When they were alone or in the office of the clinic, she’d often take them out to relief his stress, and that stress would be relieved all over her chest and face until her appetite compelled her to lift her tits to her mouth to lick up every drop. If Yuyu was as active as Ichigo correctly guessed, he still doubted she could best Orihime’s titfucks. But she was welcomed to try.

Once he gave a nod and placed a hand lazily on his right hip to maintain that cool-guy look, Yuyu shuffled forward and immediately mashed her soft tits around his cock. He grunted deep in his throat; not as big or as soft as his wife’s, but impressive nonetheless. “Oh, hold on!” She dropped her hands a little, losing her hold of Ichigo’s dick though it still leaned into her sternum. Craning her neck, she took aim and then sent a big dollop of spit to her chest, which she proceeded to smear about her mounds. She did a little extra when she spat again, this time on Ichigo’s penis. And again, she rubbed the saliva around, slickening his shaft until each stroke was pronounced with wet sliding. She leered up at him. “Don’t want you chaffing,” she half giggled.

Orihime usually washed him in her mouth, but the spit would benefit regardless. He showed a bit of impatience when he reached down, grabbed her tits, and molded them around himself around. He exhaled, reveling the sensation of the fleshy embrace. He looked down and saw his cockhead cresting between her tits, still welling with more precum.

Yuyu chortled cockily at his haste, receiving it as a nice compliment. She took his hands’ place with her own and began to work her assets up and down vigorously. They jiggled from her pace, tireless to please him, though Yuyu had started to pant; Ichigo wasn’t entirely sure she was panting from effort.

“Does your cum taste like strawberries?” she teased at one point, giving him that sharp leer of hers. Her tongue dangled, flopping loosely from her mouth, letting some drool fall down into the valley of her chest to lubricate the speed of Ichigo’s thrusts. “I want it in all my holes, that tasty cum.” She licked her lips hungrily.

Her dirty talk was on a whole other level than the other women he’d fucked. Nel, while riding him, would usually holler nonsensically or chant out “It’s good! It’s so good, Ichigo!” before ravenously kissing him on the mouth. And when not busying herself with eating Nel’s asshole or tending to some other matters, Orihime would cease the kissing jealously and reprimand them both. “No kissing!” she would pout while wagging a finger in their faces. And afterward, she would sit on either one’s face, whomever was on bottom, to prevent slip ups.

Yuyu didn’t seem interested in kissing, though. More like she wanted to slobber all over Ichigo. Her tongue was wet and wild when she decided to tease his nipples again, which made him flinch, fearing another bite of passion. But she was gentle this time, merely rasping her tongue against his skin while doing her best to keep motion around his dick. Only when the span of chest between his nipples was a runway of spit did she pull back in time to ask, “So when do I get to taste it, Ichigo-san?” Her mouth gaped, tongue branching out to show him just where she wanted to holster his dick first.

Fine. If that was the way she wanted to be. Ichigo could blame his rough and urgent shove on her. He took possession of her head, giving her only a moment to gasp before her blabbermouth was filled with dick. She adapted quickly, already creating suction and enthusiastically bobbing her head back and forth on his length. She might’ve been mumbling something amid those popping, sloppy noises, but Ichigo didn’t care. He locked a hand on the back of her head, just in case something came to mind that she couldn’t keep to herself.

She was good at this, at least; Ichigo feared that, from all her fawning and adoration, she would be all handsy and crazy. While certainly the latter, she at least wasn’t screaming or acting wild. Wincing a little, he made a push for her throat. She gagged in protest, tried to swallow him, but ultimately detached her lips from around him, made a raspy noise like a cat hawking up a hairball, and tapped at his upper thigh.

He felt a little guilty for that. Maybe she wasn’t on par with Orihime’s deepthroating skills. Yuyu was hacking and coughing after his messy dick slid out of her mouth. “Give some warning next time!” she snapped at him, massaging her throat.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted this,” Ichigo defended himself, which proved to be unwise when statured against this wild chick.

“Iwant this?” She stuck out her tongue and winked wickedly. “It’s your dick that’s hard!” She threw herself back on the bed, rocking the mattress and opening her legs like a butterfly’s wings. Again, he was offered the opportunity to peer up her short skirt. This time, however, she removed the modified hakama to give a better view. Legwarmers still in place – and unlikely to be removed at any time – Yuyu brandished herself in naught but her neon-green thong. “How about it? You wanna look? It’ll cost you.”

Ichigo pulled back, confused. “What’s that mean?”

She turned her finger side to side. “My phone. I want to document the whole thing, starting now.”

“No way,” Ichigo was quick to say, looking to the dresser where the phone was safely placed. “I’m not going to let you broadcast this all over Soul Society!”

“Not all Soul Society,” Yuyu denounced, rolling her eyes and sitting forward. Her tits dangled between her arms as her hands splayed on the bed, and her opened thighs dared the crotch of her underwear to slip. “Just Captain Yadomaru. She’s also a fan.”

Ichigo grimaced, for he knew that Lisa was a fan of perverse things, not of him. She’d propositioned him once when he was first training with the Visored, suggesting that an old-fashioned blowjob would calm him down and probably extended the length of his Hollowfication. Being an uptight virgin at the time, he shot her down. Nowadays, though, he’d probably ram her like she wanted.

“Fine!” Yuyu said, throwing her hands up to make her breasts jostle. “I won’t even show your face! It’ll just be for me, Ichigo-san!” To sweeten her request, she traced featherlight fingers down her lithe body, across her tan skin, pink nipples, flat stomach, and tugging teasingly on her thong. “And then you get all of this.”

Ichigo’s breath stilled for a moment, as he was anticipating a reveal. But she left him wanting, and that made him frustrated. And a frustrated man with an erection made the worst decisions. He grabbed the phone, held it out of her reach when he recited the conditions, and made her agree. “Of course!” she tittered, clapping her hands excitedly in front of her before the device was given over. She cherished it right away, and Ichigo immediately regretted it when she seemed more involved with the phone than him. Luckily, though, after a quick glimpse through her social media retweets and reviews – So what happened with #theQuincyWarHero, Was it awesome?!, How big?!, DON’T STOP!!! SHOW US!!!, luv ur tits #gyarutits – she set up the camera on the bed, against Orihime’s pillow, and made sure both she and the cock were in frame.

She lied across the bed on her belly, kicking her legs lazily behind her as she took up his cock. “Now we can get wild, Ichigo-san.”

“You’re not supposed to say my name,” he snarled.

Yuyu halfheartedly apologized, and then went straight for his dick. She nibbled at the tip first, little pecks with her puckered lips before swallowing the head. His frustration defused when she began to work him into her mouth. Very suddenly, she was on par with Orihime! It seemed like having the phone’s camera on her had unlocked some sexual power in her! She double-fisted the bottom part of his dick, twisting them deliciously while working her lips in a corkscrew fashion at his sensitive tip. Her tongue frequently darted against his slit, dabbing up the precum that mixed with her abundant spit and ultimately spilled out of her ravenous mouth. And aside from the bobbing of her lush ponytail and the sway of the twin tresses framing her face, he could also admire her plump ass.  Once again, she was not the most voluptuous woman, but those pert, tan cheeks did entice him. And the high-riding thong gave a strange sense of mystery despite how poorly it covered her.

Ichigo’s straight mouth loosened when he finally gave a gasp, and gave in to a sudden urge to palm the butt he’d been ogling. Did that put him in the camera’s frame? Well, he’d try to delete the video or destroy the camera after fucking Yuyu into a coma…

“He~y,” drawled the lieutenant, shooting a look his way while spit and precum dangled from her chin. “Guess you can’t wait, huh? That’s fine. How about you take a quick look at what you’re getting?” She surrendered his penis, flopping back to a reclined pose and thrusting out her groin. She fiddled with the hem of her thong while her idol pondered the wet crease underneath. Finally, she moved the silk to the side and brandished another triangle of tan lines, showing the lighter skin before the gyaru phase. All hair had been stripped away as well, leaving just skin oiled over by her own excitement. Her pink petals flourished in invitation, swollen in anticipation.

“Not bad, right?”  She reached down, two fingers used to open and present the deep hole. “I’d bet you would love to fuck it, huh?”

Ichigo frowned, but would not deny it.

“How about this?” She surprised him, rolling over and picking her butt up into the air before pulling the thong aside to reveal the other hole. This hole had no tan lines; she must’ve used specific bottoms when tanning. Yet the hole in question was a very strange shade of dull white. “I get it bleached,” she announce proudly, pulling at her cheek so that he could get a good view of the labors she made to modify her features. “Looks good enough to eat, right? Well, you don’t have to worry…” She did away with her underwear, tugging it down and fluttering her feet until the thong was kicked to some idle corner of the room. “I wanna keep sucking your dick first.”

Yet when she went back into position, she was on her back, and her head was hanging off the side of the bed. Ichigo did not immediately go for it, not until after Yuyu said, “Just shove it in. I can handle it.” A face-fucking; Ichigo rarely got to try that, so he did not waste the opportunity. He flicked the head of his hard dick against her lips, and she answered by opening her mouth wider. He pushed in slowly – “It’s alright-grk!” she slurred around him – all the way to her throat. A straight path in this position, and he took it. She did choke a little, her body writhing a bit before she could get under control, but she relaxed with a heavy sigh through her small nose. He himself couldn’t resist a moan of pleasure, feeling her tight gullet close around him, flexing and bobbing with every mewling noise she made.

As eager as he was to full-on fuck that annoying mouth of hers, Ichigo gave a slow start, moving back and forth like a piston on a machine waking up after years of neglect, offering her a chance to breathe deep between each insertion.  Of course, most times, she wasted the chance to comment on the size or to giggle. She seemed more of an airhead than his wife! Abandoning niceties, Ichigo began to speed up. He loomed over her and began to pound at her face. Of course, it was nearly impossible to get all of himself into her, but she was adept enough to take more than half.

Her arms started to twitch when he gave her this new, powerful rhythm. She had to latch her hands onto the bed to keep them from flailing. She muttered and mumbled more now, probably asking in vain to receive some break that he would not give. Instead, he doubled up; first by grabbing her bouncy tits that rippled from the force of his fucking, and then by pawing between her legs and testing her folds and clit. She was very responsive, her legs coming up and together, trapping his hand there when she hooked her feet together at the ankle.

She really was wet! In just the few seconds given to touch her cunt, his fingers up to his palm were drenched in her honey. He hadn’t even invaded her yet! When he did, his fingers sunk in easily, though her muscles were tight around them.

“Gah!” Somehow, she got her mouth free of his cock, despite being trapped underneath him. “Yeah, like that, Ichigo-san! Mmm! I can’t wait to have your big, hard dick fucking that slutty, fangirl pussy!”

Was it bravado for the video? Ichigo didn’t know or care; he just knew that so long as she was able to form words, she was a pest. Riruka was something of the same, though she spoke down to him, always loving to trap his head between her thighs, ordering Orihime to suck him off while she rode his tongue and berated him, trying to convince them all that she didn’t want this more than them. It was more out of a desire to make her eat her words that Ichigo would always deliver his best tongue-lashings to her and make her quake in orgasm above him. And when she tired and fell like a lump onto the bed, Ichigo would finish by fucking his wife above her, doggy-style. The sticky mess of cum, of course, would usually be delivered to Riruka’s snatch; either inside or making a mess in her neat, magenta pubic hair.

Pride and vengeance on his mind, he employed a new tactic. Yayahara Yuyu was unlikely to perch atop his face without a slew of comments and a very likely selfie depicting him caught between her legs.

She was light like Riruka; a bit heavier from muscle tonnage, but she was lifted easily enough. Her hair swung down to the floor, and she gave a yelp of surprise, grabbing around to Ichigo-san’s very firm ass – her long nails bit him. One hand was enough to keep her aloft, her body flush to his; he could use the other to shove her face back to his dick and keep it there. The confirmation that he made it into her mouth was the resounding “Ahhggg~!!”

Good, maybe she’ll keep it there now…

Not leaving it to chance, his hand stayed firmly pressed on the back of her head while his mouth made its own venture to the spot between her tightly-tucked thighs. He nuzzled and wedged his way in between, and once at her cunt, he dipped his tongue in and supped her overflowing juices. His tongue fluttered against her snatch, pushing through her lips and teasing her engorged clitoris to the effect of her thighs clamping against him. The noises she made were a delight too; it caused wonderful vibrations along his length. The more he nibbled and devoured her tasty pussy, the more vibrations he got to ride; not enough to make him cum, but it was stimulating.

Her crotch, while heavy with the female scent, also smelled of perfume; a different brand than Riruka’s preferred strawberry and vanilla, but it was the same habit to entice. He didn’t mind either way, having gone down on women with or without scents. Really, though, in Yuyu’s case, he wanted to bury himself inside her already. She was quivering, on the verge of cumming and he hadn’t even gone in her yet… Not with his cock, anyway. Time to fix that.

Yuyu was dropped onto the bed, reeling as her head swam. Upside down and right-side up again. She guffawed. “You’re a trip, Ichigo-san!” And she was well on the verge of rambling on while wiping her mouth on her sleeve, but Ichigo sharing presence on the bed with her took her by surprise. “Wha…?” It dawned on her, and she grinned, knowingly spreading her thighs and making room. “I guess it’s about time,” she said slyly.

“Only one time,” he told her before directing her hips flat underneath him. Likewise, she grabbed his shaft – double-handed again – and helped guide him to her dripping snatch. The moment he touched her heat, sure of himself, he slid forward, wedging into her body and discovering that he may very well have been the largest she’d ever encountered.

Again, her claw-like fingers bit him; his arms this time, but he didn’t flinch. The sensation of pain was overridden by her tense walls. Each inch had to be taken by force, and with a wet stab. The grip held him like it would not let him back out. It actually worried him, that she might be so snug that he’d blow prematurely like he had when he lost his virginity to Orihime. He busted before bottoming out, though Orihime supported him with a proceeding blowjob that got him hard enough for Round Two.

He needn’t such handicap now with so much thorough experience to his name, but Yuyu’s tight cunt…! He nearly buckled, shouting out his own dissatisfaction in himself. The wetness sought to barter his seed immediately, breaking him before he could break her.

But the fret was wasted. Long, wiry but strong legs closing about his waist, tucking his sex to hers while she raked his back with her pronounced nails, Yuyu shrieked. “Yes~!!” Her eyes crossed as a sloppy, big smile creased her darkened face, tongue lulling out to the side with spittle seeping at her bottom lip. Ichigo’s momentum was lost in the confusion, unsure of what caused this radical behavior. No girl had behaved so ravished when she came before; Orihime always curled up with little squeals of delight, Riruka tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, Tatsuki always pursed her lips or tried muffling her throes into his neck, Nel and Yoruichi-san were amazingly aggressive. Yuyu behaved like she was starring in a bad porno. “Yes! Oh, yes! That big cock is amazing! I’m already going to cum!”

Surely theatrics, Ichigo pondered until the vicious contractions held him still, daring him to be careless and ditch his semen into her. “Gah!” He barely caught himself from that plummet while her creamy juices washed his cock and pelvis. Damn her, she was still getting him on edge! Her body undulated, her hips wracking of their own accord, chasing his still cock and keeping it nicely buried inside her, up against her cervix, weeping the pre-ejaculate against the threshold.

“Don’t stop!” she implored him suddenly, catching his face between her hands and smooshing his cheeks to make his lips pucker. “Fuck me like I’m your wife!”

Ichigo didn’t want to make the comparison. Yuyu was no buxom beauty, adventurous and tireless, insatiable at his groin and talented with her gyrations. Even so, he conceded that she was a tight thing, and her limbs were too, clutching and locking on him, experiencing every rock and shudder and sway from the other. She might already tell that she was already causing his fortitude to waver, but only if she could discern anything while twitching and spasming like mad.

She made her wet spot in Ichigo and Orihime’s mattress, staking a claim there. Ichigo plunged his cock deep into her, the first actual thrust that was not part of his initial invasion. Her mouth ran faster than her hips – “Fuck me, fuck me, fuckmefuckme!” – until Ichigo’s only recourse was to silence her underneath his lips. He dabbed his tongue below her buckteeth, and then was met with outstanding fervor. Yuyu’s arms flung around the back of his head, sealing their lips. Orihime would not approve, but such approval was hard to seek when the punishment was never more than an aggressive, mind-blowing blowjob.

Her tongue didn’t linger at his, either. It flourished, licking around the mouth before she took away, letting only their tongues touch between their mouths rather than their lips. Ichigo could try to move away, but Yuyu’s rampant tongue would not let his stray far. Only when he resolved and pinned her hips to the bed and began pounding her in earnest did she recoil, throwing her head onto the pillow and moaning her repeated rapture. “Yes! Ichigo-san! Yes-yes-yess~!!”

Again?! Ichigo stalled when she seized up around him again. Again?!! Ichigo’s rhythm became erratic, unable to draw his dick out far enough to complete actual thrusts. Her body was so thirsty for him! He hit again and again at her cervix, wondering if his precum would sate her, but her legs clamped around him. Twitch-twitch! went his dick inside of her. “Let…go!” dragged from his throat. He was unable to trust himself, his cock feeling so at home inside.

And Yuyu dashed his concerns for the better and the worst: “Do it inside meeee~!! It’s a safe day!!”

‘Safe days’ didn’t exist; Ichigo knew this, yet all the same, trapped by her legs and seduced by her increased snugness, he pressed in all the way, putting pressure to her womb. Then he streamed into her, his cum leaping past the threshold and painting her uterus with a cloud full of enthused sperm. And despite what she had said, her tender egg was immediately set upon by Ichigo’s seed. The tadpoles darted against its surface until one broke and set a child inside Yuyu.

Unaware of the oncoming consequences, Ichigo let his cock tense and relax inside of Yuyu until he was satisfied that he had drained himself completely. His aching balls finally loosened, glad to have sent their load into the woman. With an exit followed by the overflow of his cum, his cock hung neatly against Yuyu’s tan thigh.

The girl’s chest was heaving, and she looked like she had taken on an army of Quincy herself! In victory, it would seem, when she turned to the camera and smiled wearily. How could she still think about her fans, Ichigo could not figure out, with semen flooding and pooled between her legs. “So that’s how a hero fucks,” she told the recording, winking and flashing a gaudy sign with her fingers at her face. “Now we gotta clean up.” She lied back, hands pillowing her head, pronouncing her chest as they sloped sightly to the sides. She grinned at Ichigo. “Now bring that messy cock here,” she slurred, beckoning with her tongue as her buckteeth chewed lightly on it.

Ichigo was unsure at first to indulge her, but ultimately scooted up, seating himself lightly beneath her breasts, and shoving his tired dick into her mouth for a good cleaning. She did her job well… The night was reinvigorated quickly when she sucked the sticky remnants of his release from her fingers.

The fans got an encore.

ccc Several minutes after her sixth and final orgasm ccc

Yayahara Yuyu was finally tuckered out, fucked to the brink and unconcerned even with the video.  Ichigo could have gone longer.  You don't act as a stud for Fullbringers, Shinigami and Arrancar without proficient merit.  Yuyo was just too much bark for the time being.

Dressed in boxers, allowing the tanned girl some time to sleep and recover, Ichigo left the room to grab a glass of water from downstairs.  The house should have been still and silent - save for Yuyu's obnoxious snoring - but there were the discernable and unmistakable sounds of pleasure emanating from... Yuzu's room?

Curious, as all should have been gone from the clinic tonight, Ichigo checked the doorknob to find that her security was neglected.  He was well aware that he shouldn't, but who would Yuzu have trusted enough to take to bed?  He took the chance to be nosy, to make sure she wasn't wooed by some pervert.

Yuzu had certainly taken someone to bed.  Ichigo just never expected it to be someone taken from his own!  And Karin too?!  Ichigo's wife was laid out across Yuzu's bed, stripped naked and biting down on her knuckles to muffle her pleasure best as she could.  But noticing that Orihime was naked would be redundant if he didn't also account for his sisters' lack of clothes as well!

Busty Karin was lying on her stomach at the bottom half of the bed, situating her torso between her in-law's knees to nuzzle the soft auburn fur of Orihime's mound, flicking her tongue like a snake's against that overly sensitive clit of hers.  Yuzu handled the breasts. She had always expressed a fondness for them, envying Karin's growth and marveling at Orihime's - before and especially after childbirth.  She latched her lips around the very same nipples that fed her beloved nephew, and Orihime writhed and squealed her name while her pink nipples were alternately adored.  One hand pressed Karin down to be smothered in her quivering muff; her other went around Yuzu's lithe body, coming up to catch her teeny breast in a hand and pinch at the sensitive nipple.

"Onee-chan!" drawled the slobbering woman before mingling mouths with her brother's wife.  She imagined she could taste Onii-chan somewhere in that spit, though Karin-chan's deep-delving tongue was probably discovering faster results.  Maybe some semen not yet ejected by Orihime's quim.

At the doorway, Ichigo was stuck, conflicted by the situation.  He had punished Orihime when he caught her last time, philandering with Tatsuki.  It'd be hypocritical to turn away from this.

His cock was already hard, rebounding swiftly from Yuyu's use.  Her essence still clung to him.

Easier to slide it in, he figured, sneaking up behind Karin.  Her legs were conveniently apart.  He slipped in before she felt his weight on the bed.  Her cunt bulged when her brother's shaft pierced through the slit.  She turned sharply to identify the sudden intruder.

"Ichi-nii?!"

ccc

The end... or is it?!  Yeah, it seriously is.



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