Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

A Place to Stay
By : c0p13r
Category: Bleach > General
Views: 37 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I dont own BLEACH and make no monies off this.
Chapter List
- 1-Pretty Please?
- 1
First off, let me clarify why my tags for my stories are inaccurate to lazy: this site and those who proclaim themselves 'the Dragons' (ugh...) who run it haven't fixed the labels. So clicking on 'BLEACH HET-M/F' makes it 'BLACH Crossover' and so forth. I don't apologize because it's not my fault.
Paizuri sounds sexier than titfuck.
ccc
            “Huh~? But why, Captain?” whined a pouting Matsumoto Rangiku. She had just been given an order to vacate Orihime’s domicile for the time being while Toshiro conducted minor business with the Twelfth Squad’s Akon regarding recent Hollow and Menos Grande attacks. As competent as she was when she wanted to be, Rangiku was hopelessly excited about roaming the living world, especially with a gigai and a plentiful budget. In her spiritual form, she couldn’t be seen, and therefore couldn’t get awestruck men to buy her clothes, perfumes, and foods. And it didn’t take anything more than batting an eyelash or putting on her pleading pout; her ample cleavage didn’t hinder her either.
            Unfortunately, all of her techniques were wasted on her mission-obsessed captain. Toshiro didn’t even flinch when she did the nearly-undefeatable ‘bend-forward-and-present-deep-cleavage’ technique. In fact, when she tried more drastic steps involving folding her arms underneath the heavy mounds and pushing up to the point where it seemed she might just burst from her top, Toshiro reached his limit of tolerance and pointed her to the door.
            “Captain is being so cold today,” she blubbered like a child, hoping that her last-ditch effort of cuteness would entice her captain to let her stay, but his finger remained pointing at the exit. Jeez, she thought he’d be less stiff when enjoying the real world. Now, he was more uptight than ever, and all because some Arrancar were threatening to invade under the orders of Aizen. With a defeated whine, she stepped out of Orihime’s apartment. She looked out at the bright, afternoon sky and figured she’d have to be out all night before Toshiro calmed down. Contemplation ended with a heavy sigh as she leaned over the banister.
            Her crystal-blue eyes glanced idly to the pathway where a throng of schoolgirls walked by and giggle, possibly gossiping about some boy at school. Whining softly, Rangiku sulked. Maybe it would’ve been better if she temporarily enrolled in Orihime’s school like Kuchiki-san had done; school life would’ve proven far more entertaining than watching her captain fuss over reports and talking to gloomy Akon.
            Again, she sighed, this time with boredom. “Where’s Orihime?” she whined. She put her cheek on her fist. Off with the Captain’s gikon, shopping. Her head dropped back with a pouty groan. How long was she to be banished from the apartment? How long was the Captain going to keep the purse from her? She could at least do some shopping of her own if he could just (foolishly) trust her with the Squad’s living world finances. “How unfair~” She drooped over the banister; a lusty sight for anyone, as her breasts hung like they’d flop out of her generously-deep collar.
            But what luck did she actually have when she spotted an unsuspecting passerby/victim! None other than the stuffy but bendable Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo! At once, knowing a sap when she saw one, she perked up immediately and swung an arm up. Her breasts thumped against her top. “Hey~ Ichigo~”
            From the street, heedlessly passing by Inoue’s apartment, Ichigo had to look up when he heard his name being called. He pulled his headphones away from one ear. “Oh, Rangiku-san, hi.” He waved meagerly, his face rather flat and plain for someone facing a pair of giant breasts waving at him. He pointed ahead on his path. “Sorry, I’m kind of busy.”
            “What are you doing~?” Rangiku cheerfully inquired, though the bag held in his other hand was evidence enough of what his business was in heading into town.
            “Yuzu sent me to pick up some groceries for dinner,” he said, and then waved again with a “Bye.” He was smart; smart enough to know that a pretty girl interested in what he was doing always meant trouble. Even Inoue could lead him to bizarre adventures if they ran into each other in the market; not that it was a bother, but she would wrack his brain with certain ideas that could make him flinch. Odd food combinations were of usual topic in those instances.
            “Going shopping?” Rangiku clarified, and while Ichigo nervously hastened to say that it was only for groceries, she was already heading for the stairs. “Good! I’ll go with you!”
            Ichigo slumped in response. Already, he had a very bad feeling in the pit of his wallet…
ccc One short trip to the marketplace and one long excavation of clothing stores later ccc
            Rangiku was feeling perked up. Who cared about the Captain kicking her out of the apartment?! She had a new wardrobe! Clothes and jewelry, all at the expense of Ichigo’s finances and pride; there had been several instances where he had to profusely apologize for not having funds for a snack Rangiku ate. Luckily, his was a familiar face and his family reputable as a helpful neighborhood clinic. Even so, one woman seller – who seemed to work for an eel shop, by the name and insignia on her shirt – vowed that she’d go after him if he did not pay her eventually, and work him like a dog.
            “I feel much better now!” sang the buxom blonde swinging her plentiful bags to-and-fro. “Orihime was right! You always know how to cheer someone up!”
            But Ichigo dragged himself along after her with slumped shoulders and a pained look on his face. He owed Tatsuki some money, and now that money was gone. He’d not hear the end of it until he got the funds again. But while moping, he noticed that he and Rangiku-san had arrive home; his home. She hadn’t detoured to return to Inoue’s! Yet she was already heading up to the porch, opening the door, and telling him not to dawdle. “Yuzu-chan’s waiting for you, Ichigo,” she scolded him, kicking off her shoes, leaving them where they flew. “It’s not polite.”
            “Well, she’ll under…” Ichigo caught himself before he could be completely fooled. His teeth turned to daggers as he pointed hard at her. “Hey, wait! That’s my line! What’re you doing going in my house!”
            Rangiku bowed forward but trod backward on her socked feet. “Me? Well, I need to set out my clothes and decide what I’m gonna keep, don’t I?”
            “What you’re gonna keep?” Ichigo repeated, dumbfounded. And in that lapse, Rangiku wheeled for the staircase and bolted for his room. “Dammit! No, you don’t!” He rushed after her, also haphazard in kicking off his shoes at the door. But he could hardly make it to the first step before his little sister called out to him.
            “Onii-chan,” she complained, and while he was still poised to run up the stairs, he had to halt for her. She needn’t give chase and find him brawling with a woman hidden in his bedroom. Yuzu stood there in an apron, frowning with her hands on her hips and ladle in hand. “You were supposed to get groceries for dinner. We’ve been waiting for hours!” She stuck out her bottom lip to show her displeasure.
            “Oh, right.” Nervously, he extended the bag that had taken all of ten minutes to fill. Yuzu took it from him, still upset. “There-there was an incident. I had to help out some people.”
            “And did you bring one of them home?” Karin was present, but she was across the kitchen, sitting on the couch watching tv; currently, she had turned and leaned over the back of the couch with a dull expression. “I saw a woman run upstairs before you came in.”
            Ichigo jerked and froze. Busted! He had hoped his luck was good enough – as it had been in the past when keeping Shinigami secrets – that Rangiku would have just been another ghost in the house that Karin ignored. But she could tell the living from the dead, unlike him in his younger years. “That’s just a friend,” he blabbed out, feigning a laugh that wouldn’t fool anyone. “She just needed to grab something in my room, and then she’ll go.”
            Karin’s smirk appeared; mocking him. “Sure.”
            But Yuzu was of another impression. She blanched first at the prospect of a woman not Tatsuki-chan going up to Onii-chan’s room, and then reddened and expressly forbid such raucous behavior. She waved her ladle in front of her up and down. “No! No! No~! Onii-chan, how could you!!”
            “Eh…” He drew away from the swinging spoon.
            “Out! Send her out!” Yuzu began to snivel and sob. “Onii-chan can’t…! Onii-chan…! Sniff! Hic!”
            “Calm down, Yuzu,” droned Karin, who found the noise even more disturbing than their brother sneaking girls up to his room. She turned around and raised the volume on the television. “It’s not the worst thing.”
            Yuzu disagreed and shoved the ladle at Ichigo. “You can’t have girls over…hic… unless Dad is here to supervise!”
            “It’s best to have company over when that old geezer’s not around,” contended Karin from the couch.
            But Ichigo, not wanting to distress his more vulnerable sister, reassured her regardless, though unsure of his own capabilities to do so. “I’ll send her home right away.”
            As he ascended the stairs mechanically, like one of Orihime’s imagined robots that had never been oiled, it was up to Karin to console her twin and temper this odd, overly-protective outburst.
            In his room, Rangiku-san had certainly made herself at home. Unlike Rukia, though, she took advantage of the whole room rather than just the closet. She laid out her clothes and jewelry and was already sorting out what she liked, what she loved, and what was just bought because it was in front of her. The latter pile was already growing, and she promised to donate them herself.
            Throwing away my money like that. Ichigo understood the pint-sized Captain’s frustrations with her. “Why are you laying it all over my room, anyway?” he asked, noticing that there wasn’t even a place for him to sit down.
            “Because I’m staying here for a while,” she said as if it were obvious. She clutched a dress to her bosom. “That’s why I needed to go shopping: to have clothes for my stay.”
            “What are you talking about?! You said you were gonna stay over at Inoue’s!”
            “I was,” Rangiku said, and then she sounded like she was about to cry, “but then Captain kicked me out because he wanted to do boring work. It was horrible.”
            Ichigo slumped. “You’re supposed to be doing work. You’re not on vacation here.”
            She went on as if she hadn’t heard him – which was true – “So now I’m staying here until Captain says I can go back~!”
            “That’s not for you to decide,” Ichigo countered only to be met with finger pointing at his face, behind which there was a suggestive smile.
            “It’s every boy’s fantasy, isn’t it, Ichigo?” She flexed, turning her fingers into her hair, tilting her head with a sensuous look on her face, pronouncing her huge bust to the effect of a nearly-bloody nose on Ichigo’s part. Those poor buttons looked to be on the verge of bursting under the strain! Rangiku-san had perfected the arch of her back! “A helpless, busty woman, needy in your room.” She dropped the act of sensuality to revert to teasing again, circling a finger accusingly at him. “And you’re bored in here all the time. Think of all the things you can do to me.”
            The fantastical images appeared unbidden in his head; him walking heedlessly in on her as she was changing – “Oh no~” she uncharacteristically wailed in the fantasy – him also walking in on her heedlessly as she was showering – “Get out~” she begged him helplessly – him rolling over in bed and finding her asleep next to him, unaware that she slept obnoxiously with snoring (which could be cute) and drooling and splayed limbs stealing the span on the bed.
            But he was strong enough to resist those lies. He knew, in reality, such mishaps would end painfully and put labels on him that he did not need. No, he shook away those thoughts and confronted Rangiku, who seemed shocked and defeated that her suggestions hadn’t been his undoing.
            “No way! I’m not that kind of guy!”—Though the staining blush and small trickle of blood from his left nostril were evidence to the contrary—“You can’t stay here! I told you that before! And now…!”
            “Oh, you’re being so mean,” she pouted, and then smirked. “I know what you would want, though.” The buttons were loosed, and as expected, she hadn’t passed the first one before his willpower was straining.
            “No!” He fought valiantly, fortifying his gaze… partially… behind his open hands. “I told you that I don’t give into temptation like that! Even if you undo one or two buttons!”
            “One or two?” Rangiku looked up innocently. “But I was going to undo them all.”
            “Yaah!!” That buckled Ichigo hard, resorting to desperately putting her to his back. He was dry-heaving and hoping he could refrain from looking. Whether or not it was a bluff, he couldn’t take that risk.
            Rangiku cocked her head. “How else am I supposed to model for you?” She waved a skimpy number; a bathing suit, even though it was out of season. He hadn’t taken into account the items of her purchases, not when he was floored just seeing the cheapest prices in the shops. Her breasts were likely too big to be supported by such flimsy cloth. The only thing it would be good for was effect for when it snapped under the weight.
            Vehemently, Ichigo shook his head to shake that cloudy and lewd image! If he just planted his feet and kept facing the door, he wouldn’t be tempted.
            But the foolproof plan had a flaw: he wasn’t prepared for her touching him, her hands sliding up from his shoulder blades, over his shoulders, and down his chest so that her could rest her chin on his shoulder. He gasped when he felt her fleshy pillows flatten on his back. Her breath was hot against his ear as she whispered, “Are you going to leave me all alone~”
            The nosebleed didn’t come. Such direct contact caused a direct reaction. His legs twitched inward, the sudden stiffness between them stressing the tightness of his slacks. No! A nosebleed was bad on its own! A hard-on?! Rangiku-san wouldn’t overlook it.
            And she had an affinity to know the workings of men. “Oh!” He knew right away that she had spotted his affliction. He should go for the exit, make an escape to the bathroom and… and…! And take a cold shower, he hastily corrected the path. But too late for any of that. When Rangiku saw a chance to have some fun and mischief, she seized it outright.
            She seized the front of Ichigo’s pants outright, having discerned the ridge running along their inner seam. “It’s there! I didn’t think it’d show up so fast!”
            “Wha-what?!” Ichigo threw himself out of her arms and up against the wall; a smart way to keep her from coming from behind, but it left his indecency exposed. He clutched behind him at nothing. “Rangiku-san! What are you saying?”
            “It’s obvious, right? A thank you for letting me stay here”—Still unconfirmed by him, but she’d already made up her mind—“and I’m sure you’ve been fantasizing about it.” She ended with a shrewd smirk, as if she had opened his head and saw it filled with lewd images of her.
            “No way! Not at all!” he refuted, though he had recounted the undone buttons and lifted skirt more than he wished. But just the insinuation of it…! His eyes plunged to her valley, and strength was sapped to his groin. His knees buckled. He felt lightheaded all of a sudden. He braced a hand on the wall and tried not to fall. “Dammit, I’m not gonna let this affect me,” he swore to himself, though it was evident that he was being bested by the merest of provocations.
            Rangiku whined immaturely. “Are you saying I’m not your type~? How cruel, Ichigo.” She feigned crying, pretending to brush at a tear with the back of her hand.
            “No,” Ichigo rushed to say, too muddled to actually recognize and avoid such an obvious trap. Rukia would rebuke him and say he was always this thickheaded. “It’s just that…!”
            “Good!” she interrupted, dropping her act and ready to commence. “As long as there is no issue”—She caught his wrist, which was held out as he stupidly tried to console her—“let’s get started~!”
            “Yah!” Ichigo was hurled onto his bed; Rangiku was accurate enough to make him miss her mass of garments. He scrambled and sat up straight at the edge of his bed, forcing a frantic look to his uninvited guest. “Rangiku-san, just listen a moment…!”
            “Aw~ you sound just like Captain.” She pressed at the tip of his nose and playfully said in sung out tones, “Be~have your~self…” Her tone dropped to smoldering seductiveness. “… and we’ll have fun.”
            So smoldering, Ichigo felt like he could melt. His eyes rolled up dreamily. To his great shame, as he swooned, he wore a very Kon-like expression before his reserves kicked in and snapped him back to fighting off her advances. But his strength depleted. Her weapons were greater than his; he was at least glad he was sitting. At the same time, it made him vulnerable. He was ill-prepared and uncharacteristically lax for reaction when Rangiku situated herself between his knees, crowding herself close so that her tits were resting on his lap. They were so amazingly heavy; Ichigo tried not to cloud up and give in.
            “That wasn’t so bad, right?” She was smiling so nonchalantly while he seemed on the verge of a heart attack. And since his brain seemed to have shut down all function but hiccupping stammers and involuntary response, she made for his pants with a casual “Let’s see now.”
            She turned open his belt and was making for his button when his hands finally went to action and held her wrists back. She whined in disappointment – “And I was so close to seeing it~” – and Ichigo charged her with a determined albeit flushed and timid glower. “P-pack it all up,” he commanded, referring to her bags. “And, and…!” He let go of her hands; they fell on his lap.
            He jumped up to make for the door and open it for her. It proved fatal. Rangiku-san’s hands were deft and had made quick work of both button and fly in the span of the second he needed to stand up. He meant to be imposing and firm in his decision, but it was impossible to be taken serious when his pants sagged to midthigh – orange and red vertical striped boxers – and the firmest thing about him was the incessant ridge jabbing out against them. He hollered and clutched for his failed trousers, and much like Yoruichi-san, Rangiku-san jubilated in his humiliation.
            All those years, being the tough and stoic type…! This woman was breaking the façade effortlessly! Doubling over as his pants hitched, he tried again to tell her to leave, though it only made her laugh more, waving him off and telling him to stop being so silly. “Dammit, I’m serious!”
            Rangiku-san stood up suddenly. The bubbly laughter was gone. She actually looked resolute, serious. Her entire countenance darkened. It perked Ichigo up, taking it as meaningful when she strode briskly toward him. With a face as somber as that, what life lesson was she planning to impart on him?
            She grabbed his unguarded crotch – a perfect latch around his stem – and jeered as he shrieked, “Loosen up~”
            The argument was just about to ensue when the door began to open. Ichigo at least had the reaction time for this. This was important! This was something that would change everything in his family, and he couldn’t have that! He intercepted the door opening with his body. His hands gave up on guarding to maintain the small breadth of the doorway, keeping the crack slim enough that Yuzu’s head could not poke in. She was no match for his weight, no matter how badly she wanted to see in her brother’s room and confirm that no funny business was going on and that he was still pure.
            “Yuzu!” he panicked, trying on an easy smile that just came off as creepy. “Heheh, what do you want?”
            Yuzu, of course, frowned. She did not like scolding her Onii-chan, but he was in need of it. “You can’t lock guests in your room,” she lied, knowing that it was safer to turn the latch in the Kurosaki household when their dad was lurking.
            “I’m not,” he argued.
            And then Rangiku popped out from behind him, bubbly again and happy to address Yuzu’s concerns. She at least was wise enough not to show off her mostly-unbuttoned blouse to the trepidatious girl. “I’m perfectly fine!” She pressed in closer, coming against Ichigo’s back.
            Behind the door, she reached for and grabbed his cock through his boxers. His jumping response was forced down for Yuzu’s benefit, and she was at least entranced now that she could behold the one in her brother’s room. She flushed and was dazzled by Rangiku’s beauty; on a whole other level than Rukia-chan, who was more cute than beautiful and less threatening, more like an appropriate sister than this gorgeous woman.
            “So you are Ichigo’s little sister,” said Rangiku, leaning toward her affectionately while secretly pumping Ichigo’s shaft behind the door. He was all tension, from the tips of his curling toes to the hair that stood up straight on his head. There was no way to confront her strokes without Yuzu finding out what was going on. “My! You’re so cute. Like a doll!”
            Yuzu stammered at the compliment. It was kind and she enjoyed it, but the woman herself made her too wary. Onii-chan might fall for her just because she was a pretty face! Boys were stupid for pretty women, and pretty women couldn’t be trusted! Yuzu, after all, was not as lax as Karin, being stingy and able to put her foot down where her siblings were concerned.
            She tucked her chin though, and said rather meekly, “Onii-chan shouldn’t have… strangers in his rooms close to bedtime.” Bedtime was a few hours off; dinner hadn’t even been served yet.
            “Sorry, sorry,” sang Rangiku, waving at the little girl as if to calm flames. “It was supposed to be a short visit”—Her hand rubbed up the fullness of Ichigo’s length, grinding her thumb at his tip—“but it turned out longer than I thought. Please excuse me this one time.” A one-handed gesture of prayer… “Please, Yuzu-chan~♥”
            Yuzu knew she should forbid it and point the buxom woman do the stairs and exit. At the same time, she couldn’t be cruel. Onii-chan had a big heart, willing to open his family’s home to homeless orphans like Rukia-chan. Despite her instincts – and the lack of a sappy sob story – she chose to nod. Onii-chan already looked stressed, flushed and sweating profusely, a far-off look in his cloudy gaze. She could at least tell the woman “Just… don’t stay too long”, and Rangiku nodded obligingly several times with “Yes, yes~” while slowly closing the door in front of her face.
            Yuzu regretted her leniency the moment she heard the lock turn on the other side.
            “Are you crazy?” Ichigo seethed over his shoulder, bearing Rangiku’s weight as she grabbed more audaciously at his length. He braced on the wall and hung his head, watching her smooth hand glide against the front of his boxers.
            “Where’s your sense of fun?” Rangiku teased and pinched at his tip. Before he could admonish her, she took his chin in her hand and tilted him to her; his face lost its ferocity when their eyes locked inches from each other. “Won’t you have some fun with me, I~chi~go~?”
            His lips locked easily with hers, though he couldn’t determine if it was by his volition. Rangiku-san was leaving him muddled and cloudy and foolish. He swayed into her, wrapped his arms about her hourglass figure, and – unintentionally – shoving his erection into the apex of her thighs.
            “Ooo!” She glanced down, leaving Ichigo’s breathless lips to acknowledge the offense to her skirt. He, of course, knew he’d be taxed for the affront of his loins. “You’ve become so excited, Ichigo! Will you sit down obediently for me this time?” She stroked his chin as if he were a pet.
            Ichigo choked on his will to resist. For a moment, there was a stalemate between the urge to keep his pride as a man… or bow and bark and rush excitedly around her heels like a good little dog. It was a fierce, internal struggle… but also a short one. Rangiku-san was the most irresistible woman in Soul Society – and maybe further than that. Ichigo would have had to had been the most devout of saints to refuse her. At least he could act like he was against it.
            The most he could manage was the stereotypical tough guy guise, looking off to the side and stuffily saying, “Whatever you want…”
            “Good~!” She rushed him over to the bed; he shouted out again and again was thrown to his seat.
            He glowered at her above flushed cheeks. “Stop throwing me everywhere!”
            “Lotion~ Lotion~♪” Rangiku ignored him, grinning as she swung left to right in mild surveillance of the room. When she could not find whatever it was she was looking for, she started mor intrusive means: looking in the closet, under his bed, under his mattress, under him. The latter brought him to question her search. She replied, “Where do you keep your lotion?”
            “Lotion? I don’t have any here.” Lotion was in the toiletries cabinet in the restroom, used primarily by his sisters… or their dad when he wanted to act like he was hip and wanted soft hands for pretty patients (though he insisted on his faithfulness to his late wife).
            Rangiku looked genuinely troubled by this revelation. “Wha~?” She leaned with her hands clapping on her naked knees. Her cleavage plumped up between her arms; it was a miracle they hadn’t overflowed from the outfit after it’d been so very unbuttoned. Ichigo’s boxers tightened. “But I thought all boys had a bottle of lotion next to their bed.” She righted herself and put her cheek in a hand, lamenting her disappointment.
            “Just who’s been telling you this stuff?” growled Ichigo, an image of Rukia appearing in his mind with a thumbs-up.
            Regardless, Rangiku went on woefully, “We need lotion for a proper paizuri.”
            “P-paizuri?!” Ichigo steamed, the heat rising like a thermometer dipped in lava until it burst at the tip! He clapped a hand over the lower half of his face.
            “You need to be more prepared, Ichigo,” she scolded him in the same pouty voice. “You’ll chafe Orihime’s tender, soft skin if you go raw all the time.”
            The verbal jab of insinuation nearly knocked him out cold. “Inoue and I…!” He doubled over, again choking on his mortification. “We…! We’ve never…!” Again, he tried to defend from a nosebleed.
            “Oh, you don’t need to be shy,” said Rangiku, getting over her disappointment in his unpreparedness to return to the matter of her half-undone blouse. There was enough already exposed to reveal that she oftentimes didn’t wear a bra; probably difficult to find a size to match her bodacious bust. Or did she like taunting men with a hefty view of her cleavage? She winked as she slid her top back. Not entirely done nor untucked from her skirt, she eased her large and supple breasts out for him to witness. They were enormous! And more than that, Ichigo discovered as he mindlessly committed to sight-seeing the ample mountains of flesh, they defied gravity; sloping in their weight, yet so round and full, with puffed pink peaks hardened at just a slight, up-tilted angle. His reservations were justified; if he had only resisted, he would never know their splendor and would not lose his mind to them. For that miraculous moment, he and Kon were kindred spirits, though he did not fling himself drooling at her.
            “Much better,” sighed the lieutenant, furthering the exposure of her breasts and shoulders. “Clothes in this world look so cute, but they can be so stifling. It’s good to be able to let them breathe.” She bounced her tits in her hands. They moved like gelatin; the chain hanging around her neck jostled amongst the rippling flesh. She looked intently at Ichigo, frozen in place, understandably hypnotized. All the same, she asked with a slight lean that fully presented her hefty attributes, “Do you like them?”
            What kind of question was that?! Who would not be in awe at such twin splendors, dangling while still retaining tight vitality to her sternum?! He admitted his resolve was bested by her body’s own loud arguments. Realizing that he was dumbly drooling, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to switch his gaze to meet hers. She was stunningly beautiful; more than that in this moment, sexy. She oozed that sensual factor, and her quickly and – at times – infuriating personality heightened the urge to take her, to put her in her place in the most basic of ways. Ichigo could fight that compunction to the best of his capabilities, but the truth was: he was sexually frustrated and weak, and she was mighty.
            He gasped when she resumed the slot between his knees, now with her tits out and shoved toward his crotch. He stammered for an explanation; he was still so very new to this, and stupid from so much blood loss. “I promised you, didn’t I?” she answered playfully, and then stuffed her giant tits against his boxers. They were the next matter to attend to. He’d already given his word to cooperate – and aside from some jitters, he seemed to keep it – so getting through his underwear was unlikely to be any chore. Maybe, by reflex, he’d stop her from going too far, but she’d bypass it with a wink or maybe the pouty face again. Instead, he forced his hands to his sides and allowed her permission. A bit boring, she decided; she liked him making a fuss. However, she delved through his boxers to find his object, and she half-believed there had been something else shoved in his drawers until she drew it out.
            It was this big?! And he wasn’t using it?! It was a shame! Not that Rangiku would be floored, having seen so many shapes and sizes on her drunken trips to the male hot springs – not for sex, but just to tease the intimidated men – but it was objectively large, and it impressed her. Not overly long, but strong in girth; swollen, bulging muscle that refused to yield to the grip of her hand.
            Orihime would surely be happy with it. For now, Rangiku figured there would be no harm in breaking him in first. So, giving him a soothing stroke – an indirect promise of delights in store – she praised him. “What an impressive thing you have, Ichigo.” She did not take her beaming eyes off of it. “It’s no wonder you have so many beautiful women around you.”
            Ichigo tensed, looking off embarrassed to the side. “It’s not like that…” As far as he knew… There hadn’t been any women – aside from Yoruichi-san – who had seen him down there to make such a judgment.
            “Well, don’t worry,” said Rangiku-san, tilting his rigid cock with playful pokes. “I’ll take care of you, little Ichigo~♥” She leaned in and he yipped when she pressed a small, innocent kiss to his tip. Not a wet, lingering kiss, but something did catch on her bottom lip when she pulled back. Realizing what it was, Rangiku grinned and ran her tongue out to taste it. “You’re more excited than you act. Do my boobs get you that excited?”
            Ichigo only gulped and let his expression speak for him.
            Rangiku didn’t press the issue. If she did, he might really pass out! Innocent boys were so cute. She kissed again, though kept her mouth involved unlike before. She pecked, pecked again with more persistence, and then folded her lips around him. She didn’t take a plunging inhale of his cock, but just sliding past the enflamed rim of his head had him jolt upright, gasping “Wow!” before he could help himself. Not the wildest reaction she could invoke from a man, but she would restrain herself out of respect of the Kurosaki Clinic’s tranquility. He still had his sisters downstairs, and they (or Yuzu, at least) were intrusive to their brother’s activities.
            Rangiku knew she could end him in her mouth if she was not careful. Still, she couldn’t pass up a chance to show off her technique, giving Ichigo a preview of what could be when he was more experienced. She tightened her lips around him and bobbed; just focusing on his head, drenching it with flowing saliva while at the same time vacuuming it with strong suckling. Ichigo’s hands committed themselves to the bedsheets, regardless of how instinct wanted to grab the back of her head and draw her onto his lap to test the resilience of her throat. She had such acumen for men in need. She dove down fully and proved that, while his cock impressed her, her mouth was talented enough to take him in until he could make it into her gullet. Not even a flinch! The passageway bulged with his insertion, but Rangiku continued in stride.
            Then, when near his base, her lips unsealed and a torrent of gooey saliva cascaded down his length with a choked exhaled; her throat throbbed around him to get that air out. Then all at once, she pulled back, breathing in sharply as soon as she could, leaving a spit-sloppy schlong and a wheezing Ichigo in front of her. How was he breathless when she was doing all the work? “I wouldn’t have to do this if you just had your lotion ready,” she scolded lightly.
            “I—huff—I didn’t say anything,” he rebutted. If he had the nerve, he might’ve said that he was actually impressed by her skills, even with nothing to compare her with.
            Never minding it, Rangiku’s eyes were on the prize now. A wet, slippery cock was just what a good titfuck needed. Hands tucking under and guiding her mountainous melons, she heaved them forward and sandwiched the long member in between them. Ichigo could not get away with a mere “Wow” this time. He might have taken a direct hit to the gut from an El Directo from the way he surged with a choked gasp.
            “It is big,” Rangiku mused in wonder, squeezing up her tits around him. “I can barely cover it. It might be hard for Orihime, won’t it?”
            “Stop mentioning her,” Ichigo implored, not wanting the seeds of perversion to take root in his imagination. It was too late for that…
            “But what a problem that’d be,” Rangiku mourned her less-endowed friend’s dilemma, as if it had any bearing in reality. She looked up at Ichigo determinedly then. “Don’t worry, Ichigo! I can teach her!”
            “Teach her what?!”
            Rangiku-san wasted no time in showing him what she could teach the buxom schoolgirl. She rocked her chest against him, dragging her plump and flushed flesh against him, pulling him through the constricted fission. It was only a sample of what she could do for him. “How’s that, Ichigo?” she asked, expecting it when he couldn’t conjure more than a garbled reply. She wasn’t holding her breasts. Now that he was locked in between them, she just leaned forward and back, letting gravity keep him sunken in her cleavage. Her nipples rolled against him; though it was hard to concentrate on anything but the tits encasing his throbbing dick, he could vaguely acknowledge it when those two points pressed into his skin. Lifting herself, gleaming at the spectacle of her magnificent, round tits squished up against Ichigo’s thick dick, she shimmied her shoulders so that her dangling breasts could knock at him. More visual appeal, but it was also a nice fluffing the encouraged his throbbing to produce precum, making the insides of her breasts glisten anew now that the spit was drying. And the precum was much more effective at lubricating skin.
            She switched technique then, locking her arms around her tits, compressing them and using her knees to bounce; back-and-forth turned to up-and-down. “And this? Maybe you prefer this more?” Again, Ichigo was rattled and could not give any reply that was coherent; nothing beyond a heated and heavy “Please” escaped his lips. His cock was drowning in pleasure, breaching just every so often to make a gasp for air before plunging back into the sea of amassed tits.
            Like this, Rangiku could feel him against her: the strong pulsations, the warmth of his overflowing precum. He was getting so excited that the pre-ejaculate was starting to burst with a bit more oomph than before. Experimentally, she slid down until his head poked into view, held it there, and waited until she saw one of the translucent drops jolt from his little slit. “Oh my~ You’re getting so excited, Ichigo.” A hand came up from maintaining her tits to tap a finger on his leaking tit, stretching out the gooey substance, testing its consistency.
            “Rangiku-san,” Ichigo rasped out, though he didn’t commit to any warning or beseeching. He grit his teeth, his face screwing up in a grimace of anxiety. In desperation, he thrust against her bosoms, pushing the head of his shiny cock toward her face.
            “You are~” Rangiku teased, drawing back so that he could not make it to her grinning lips. She tapped several times with her fingertip, plodding the pool of his mounting precum. In response, his dick pulsated, bulging defiantly against the hug of her tits. She tilted her head just enough so that her warm breath tickled his tip. He had the overwhelming sense that she was going to lick him, her smile hovering so accurately above him. It wouldn’t take much more than parting her teeth and lulling out her tongue.
            It was all his imagination and wishful thinking. As if sensing his anticipation and reading his mind, she instead pulled back and managed her breasts again, cupping underneath their weight – they overflowed in her hands – and sliding them up his length again. It was more than enough to keep Ichigo invigorated, even if he had expected the weeping slit to be cleaned by her tongue. He wouldn’t – or couldn’t – ask it of her; too presumptuous even now, and he’d probably hear about it for the rest of his life, how he begged her to lick his penis. She got him to exhaust his wallet in one trip to the market. Imagine what she could get out of him with actual leverage!
            It didn’t turn into simple up-and-down – even if it was just fine – when Rangiku began to clap her jugs against his cock. The opposing tides of rippling tit smooshed him between them. “How’s that?” she purred, pausing momentarily to mash the globes together to constrict him. Ichigo just continued to wince and seethe and try to keep his exclamations of ecstasy in check. “Aw~ won’t you answer me?” Squashing her mounds together, she bobbed them just a little. She intended to tease and bait him until he broke.
            He reached out on impulse, catching her by the shoulders. She felt the restraint in his fingers, or else he would be squeezing her painfully. She could pity him if it wasn’t so funny watching him try not to blubber and beg. “Rangiku-san,” he hissed as though her name had become the full extent of his vocabulary, but he went on, “It’s… too much!”
            “How honest.” She felt him palpitate, more warmth spilling out over to shimmer on her slopes. “Would you want me to continue? Or”—She smirked darkly—“do you want me to stop?”
            The most honest he had been, he shook his head no. He would be reduced to begging if she unseated his cock now. The sheath of her chest was too snug and warm and comfortable to be abandoned, least of all when he was in those last, jerky thumps of circulations when pleasure became more of a chore, when the body committed all efforts to see to the climax. His veins bulged, his head swelled, and the flow of precum stalled.
            Rangiku giggled, knowing full well what all of his motions indicated. His whole body tensed like he was holding his breath before the plunge. She wouldn’t let him go unabated. Bustling her hand beneath her bust, she snagged the base of his cock. She felt the heat of their meshed bodies as she grabbed him and began to stroke him furiously beneath her tits, making them flutter around him.
            “Gk!” Ichigo’s hips jumped slightly and remained suspended, his body tightening and his joints locking. The head of his cock poked out from the fissured sea of flesh. She totally expected it, meeting the jetting premier shot with a welcoming smile. It streaked her face with white; she closed her left eye when it came close. After a shot cleared into her hair, the rest of his sticky semen did arching leaps that mostly came down on her puffed-up breasts to ooze down in thick, white and clear rivulets. And she continued to help his release, not with speedy, jerky motions, but slow and firm pumps.
            Ichigo had not released so forcefully and so much before. He grunted deep and strained and ejected every bit he could onto the buxom lieutenant until he was drained of just about every pearly drop possible. And Rangiku-san was truly impressed. “What a big load that was,” she exclaimed, looking down at the wet webbings stringing from her chin and neck to her breasts, coursing down their roundness and across her nipples. But her jubilance turned into mocking pity; beneath her bosoms, he felt her fluffing his balls. “You must have had it stored up for some time. They must be so sore.”
            To be honest, they were; from the protracted arousal to the mighty ejaculation that drained them. They throbbed, but it didn’t outmatch the relief of release nor the sensation of seeing the gorgeous Shinigami wearing a string of cum across her neck along the chain and pendant.
            “Here,” she chimed brightly, and began to mash and mold her generous tits against his erection. They were slicker than before now that they were drenched so heavily in semen. She folded them against one another, rolling against his hard cock, beating it pleasantly this way and that. But then she stopped with a rather incredulous look down her cum-covered cleavage. “Wow,” she wondrously mused. “They weren’t kidding; the reports about your stamina. I’m almost insulted.” She pouted up at the confused and panting Ichigo before heaving her boobs into attention. “I thought this would be enough for you.”
            Ichigo started stammering again, not meaning to affront her, but not knowing how to ease her obvious tease. “They are!” he insisted, blood still in delayed transit to the brain. Best as he could to detract attention from his stubborn erection, he assured her, “It-it was amazing!” And then it set in that he shouldn’t be encouraging and instead should be fighting further temptations. He made a halfway grab for his pants to pull them up. Surely what was just done was the highlight and conclusion to their evening, right? She was satisfied that she usurped his resolve and could go home to Inoue with a sense of pride. He looked across the room for his tissue box on his desk. “We should clean up”—She should; she was the one wearing the outcome on her face and body—“or Yuzu might notice…”
            “Don’t be like that!” Rangiku pressed firmly at his chest. Just that one dainty finger could almost topple him, and she wasn’t even using a Spell. “You don’t think we’re done, do you?” That same finger rose in front of his nose while she grinned behind it. “Orihime’s a nice girl, but even she wouldn’t appreciate a selfish lover.”
            Again, bringing up Inoue! What was the point of it?! Ichigo receded with a feeble snarl that quickly died away when Rangiku cupped his chin and lifted herself up between his legs to kiss his full on the mouth. Passionately, she inserted her tongue past his parted lips and let him taste the bitterness he had haphazardly splashed across her face. His tongue recoiled from the flavor, but she gave chase and ensured that he share in the result.
            No doubt she was aware of the erection probing eagerly at her navel now that she was leaning over him. Even with the salty sting she was forcing into her mouth – though beneath the taste of his cum was sweet and minty – his cock was yearning for more of her. The embrace of her tits may have left him, but her hand stayed attached, holding his base firmly; not that he needed the help to keep him erect.
            She didn’t break the lip lock smoothly; it was sudden and with the quiet hitch of moist flesh separating with a hot and heavy breath, lips laced with temporary strings of spit as they panted into each other’s mouth; Ichigo panting more than her, of course. Her agape mouth closed in a slight but wry grin. She pet his chin with a finger and made him shiver all over, sensitive to everything, even the clothes that were still on. “Wouldn’t you want to try it?” She leaned in closer. “The taste of a woman?”
            “What?!” he gasped.
            At once, she was standing up in presentation, and her breasts jumbled together in heavy rolls before settling; two plump and full orbs that commanded attention. But all of Matsumoto Rangiku was deserving of that! “Then it’s settled! Let me just get out of these clothes and we can start~”
            “Start?” jabbered Ichigo, who had thought they had just finished. “Start what? Hey, wait! Don’t-don’t take those off!” As desperate as he sounded, he wasn’t at all convincing. His eyes were already trained to where her skirt was lifted at the sides so that she could peel off her panties. No need for ultra-erotic underwear; they weren’t flashy, but in a line-up with models, she would still be the standout in her pure white cottons.
            Watching her boobs wobble and sway with any one of her insignificant motions, Ichigo had to show appreciation to the underneath of her skirt. She teasingly held out her panties on a crooked finger, grinning and turning halfway for the full effect of her luscious figure to blaze in his memory. In such a pose, it would be a TKO by nosebleed; fortunately, his blood flow and racing heartbeat kept the circulation contained to his groin. With less insecurity than before, he left his cock out to thump its approval of her beauty.
            “You too,” she encouraged him, turning her finger to let her underwear fall gently to the floor. “Don’t be shy. How can you expect to really enjoy it the first time if you still have clothes on.”
            Apprehensively, Ichigo clutched at his shirtfront, the internal debate visible by his eyes and fresh perspiration. He still had it in him to be a man and resist… But coming this far already… The conflict was a mess. “Yuzu and Karin are still downstairs,” he reminded her, though more for himself. It might’ve been to side with his failing ability to resist. Karin might have been fine as long as the television didn’t go out, but oftentimes, Yuzu would press an ear to his door whenever a visitor – particularly when a girl (Tatsuki) – came over. She’d have a heart attack if she eavesdropped and heard the indecent sounds of a rutting older brother and some strange woman in off the street.
            “Of course~”
            Ichigo was suddenly glomped before he could even attend to the matter of his shirt or finish kicking off his pants. Rangiku held him underneath her. “I just said we need to be quiet!” he snapped, ignoring the hypocrisy at his volume.
            The clothes she had so neatly and methodically became crumpled as the two bodies rustled and tumbled and stacked on top of each other. Ichigo, when the chaotic and noisy – his bed was rocking, thumping, and creaking – ended, gasped and pulled back against the red blouse beneath his head. He was staring up Rangiku-san’s legs and to the underside of her skirt. The fullness of her ass pushed up the hem of her skirt in her kneeling. He witnessed her two entrances: the one just peeking from between her luscious ass cheeks, and the blossomed, plumped lips salivating at the smoothed pubic mound where there had only been a strip of soft strawberry-blond hair above. The scent of her overwhelmed every inhale he took. It was obvious, but… what did she expect him to do?
            Of course there was Rangiku now staring down his length. Her breasts bearing down on him like pillows beneath her, she idled the time with playing with it. “It probably looks intimidating at a distance,” she cooed and then curled her hands around it, a smile lifting her lips, “but up close, it’s pretty cute.” She kissed its head before engulfing it in her mouth. The size of her tits didn’t allow leisurely consumption, but she was content just suckling the tip of his cum-flavored cock; he was content with it too. However, his hesitations did wear a bit on her patience. Stroking him with her fist to compensate the temporary removal of her mouth, she jibed back at him, “C’mon~ What are you waiting for?” She wagged her posterior at him. “I know it’s pretty, but you can’t just stare~ That’s no fun~” As if to hint on what she expected of him, she swept her tongue against his cockhead, against the slit.
            Ichigo hadn’t done this or really pondered it. Keigo was the one who provoked his perversions with naughty magazines brought into school, but those were all stills of naked or near-naked women in provocative poses. The most-featured woman was a dark-skinned lady, always in a pair of dark boots regardless of what she was wearing or not wearing, with one pose being a picture from behind as she bent forward and spread the cheeks of her ass for a full-on view of every private crevice.
            Either way, cunnilingus was entirely new to him. Still, he had to adapt and had a general idea of how to proceed. Mustering his nerve, he drifted in close and darted his tongue against the outer lips first. There wasn’t much more of a response from Rangiku-san besides an affirming grunt vibrating around the head of his cock. So he started to thrash his tongue with more gusto, pushing her folds and honing in on the greatest source of her leaking essence. And the more enthused he was in lapping at her, the more noises she began to make around his dick, even disengaging once to gasp out her pleasure.
            The texture of a woman was so slick and smooth. His tongue ran against her with ease, though the experiment to press his tongue inside of her was trickier. For all the juices saturating her, he found it would take a stiffer object than his tongue to really press deep in her. He could with a bit of direct concentration; her walls would expand around his intrusion, and he’d flounder a bit inside, but then the walls would shudder and squeeze him out. Therefore, he explored the outside of her pussy more thoroughly. He had thought lapping at her hole – which he eventually became bold enough to expose by using his thumbs to pull her lips apart – would cause the best reactions, but when his tongue ran the full length of her slit, Rangiku-san’s body would lurch suddenly when he dragged just below the start of her strip of pubic hair. Analyzing this phenomenon, he concentrated on this point and found an engorged nub that was obviously the source of her reaction. He licked at her center from time to time to replenish his tastebuds with her slick, but he continued to prod her clit, bullying it with straight jabs or sweeping it back and forth under his tongue. The bite of her fingernails into his thighs caused a tingle to his groin that tightened his balls, all while his aching cock made sprints toward Rangiku’s gullet.
            KNOCK-KNOCK!! “Onii-chan!” Yuzu’s whine broke the heated interaction between lieutenant and substitute. Ichigo’s tongue seized in mid-roll while Rangiku turned toward the door with his cock halfway in her mouth. They paused in sweating silence. The doorknob turned, but only partially; Ichigo thanked his lucky stars for not only locking the door, but reinforcing the lock to keep out unwanted intruders (Kurosaki Isshin). The doorknob rattled more desperately. “Onii-chan!” Yuzu called from the other side, sounding like it was becoming more of an emergency. “The door’s locked!”
            With his frantic heart rambling in his ears, Ichigo pulled back from Rangiku’s tasty pussy to address his worrisome sister. “What is it?”
            She continued to attack the doorknob as if it’d open because she willed it. “It’s getting late! She said she wouldn’t be here long! She needs to leave!” The tears welling up in her eyes could practically be heard sloshing as she shook her head against her Onii-chan harboring such a bewitching beauty.
            “Aw~ Yuzu-chan is gonna make me cry,” pouted Rangiku over the cock. She preferred women being jealous of her than little girls being wary of her.
            Ichigo’s face flamed, and he said with a great amount of mortification, “W-we’re almost done.”
            “What are you doing?!” the sister cried.
            “I’m helping him arrange his wardrobe,” Rangiku sang out with a hand to her mouth for enunciation. “He has so many tacky clothes, he asked for my advice~”
            There was a pause, and then Yuzu asked, “But why is the door locked?”
            “You know Ichigo,” Rangiku chided easily. “He doesn’t want anyone to see his embarrassing stuff~”
            “Just give us five minutes!” Ichigo interrupted the dialogue before it could get out of hand. Rangiku taking jabs at his fashion while he was buried in her crotch and she was rubbing his dick…! He couldn’t stand it.
            Thankfully, Yuzu conceded, and her footsteps could be heard descending the stairs.
            “Just five minutes?” Rangiku sat up and folded her arms, thinking on this newly-appointed time limit. “That doesn’t give us very much time at all.” She was completely oblivious to the face that she was sitting full on Ichigo’s face, burying him in delightful pussy and ass. But he didn’t take a deep enough breath – he didn’t expect her to sit up so suddenly – to stay underneath her for long. Only when his hands clapped on her cheeks and his legs kicked did she realize his plight. “Oh! Sorry, sorry,” she laughed and propped herself on hands and knees to let Ichigo breathe.
            “Jeez, you really are trouble,” Ichigo griped after recovering his breath. She made room for him to sit up as well; he sat on the side of the bed to avoid another face-sitting – though how could he complain?
            “Don’t say that,” she teased, leaning up from his side and jabbing at his ribs with a finger. “You’re having lots of fun, aren’t you?”
            He flinched from her poking, but couldn’t even say no as a lie. From his open legs, his cock was still jutting needfully upward, vying for continued attention.
            “Well,” the busty Rangiku mused in consideration, sweeping a hand through her full, wavy hair with a flourish, “we’ll have to hurry if you only gave us five minutes.”
            Ichigo slumped a little, looking helplessly at her. “It was so we can get dressed.”
            “Don’t be silly. How can we go this far but skip the main event?!” She hiked a leg up on the bed, the other still dangling over the side, exposing her crotch; furthering the exposure when she slipped a hand down and spread her gash wide with two fingers so that he could gaze at her pink depths. She heard him gulp and saw how wide his eyes were in watching. He’d just been face-to-face (more accurately, mouth-to-mouth) there, yet her wiles kept him entirely captivated. “You’re not nervous about it, are you? Well, don’t think of this as your first time! This is practice!” She poked at her breast; her finger sunk into the malleable flesh. “This is a gigai, after all! Just think of it as having sex with a blow-up doll~”
            The reasoning wasn’t convincing at all, nor did it appease Ichigo to mount a fake body. Well, Urahara-san’s craftsmanship was superb; he’d give him that. Even so, Ichigo gestated hesitantly. It was a big step for him. All the years being seen as a thug and rebel while behaving – to the best of his abilities – to the contrary. Could he maintain that image after this…?
            “You take too long,” whined the shapely woman. And she had a point. While he fussed over his maintained image, she had already crawled on the bed, prostrated on hands and knees, and faced him with a tantalizing backend. He all but stiffened at the heavenly view; except for his pulsating cock. Her ass really was shaped like a big and full heart, and centered by the slit in full, dripping arousal. Beneath all his conservations and prudishness and inexperience, he felt some source of pride that a woman – especially of Rangiku-san’s caliber – was eagerly coaxing him. “C’mon~,” she called to him, “before Yuzu-chan comes back.”
            Well, Ichigo determined with a fake cough against his fist to try to seem casual in his decision, it wasn’t like anything he could say would deter her in time. And so, awkwardly and shakily, he got up and moved into position. “I’m waiting~” she sang, pushing her groin against his pelvis.
            “I’m doing it,” he seethed to try to ease her teasing. She was having way more fun than him, that was for sure. Hopefully by the end, he’d be relaxed and have a moment’s rest.
            Swallowing at that lump in his throat again, he lined his swollen head with her slot. A difference in size, like a python sizing up a mouse’s hole, but he at least knew that it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. Even so, he proceeded slowly and carefully, not appreciating Rangiku’s jump when he bulged up at her very entrance like he was already hurting her. She burst out in a fit of laughter – “You’re so nervous!” – and he simmered in red shame – “Shut up!”
            He was less cautious, acting more like he carried a vendetta now. He pressed against her supple folds and bore his way in. For at least that moment of him crossing over her threshold, pushing back her walls, Rangiku was limited to a hiccup, a gasp, or a moan. The beginning was quick, but then his anxiety reined in his haste so that they may both revel in the sensation of him crawling up her insides.
            “It’s in,” Rangiku gasped out, her head dropping, her hair falling to his bed as she looked underneath her – an effort to see beyond her blocking boobage – to see the big dick pushing through her gigai’s snatch. Every ridge of his was clamped onto and experienced as he climbed deeper and deeper until he came to a sudden stop. She gave a deep grunt while they both swayed from the abrupt snag
            “Uh…” Ichigo droned dumbly, momentarily senseless as Rangiku wrapped around his length. “What’s…?”
            “You—mm!—you must be bigger than I thought,” Rangiku praised with sweat rolling down her face. Murmuring and huffing, she swayed her hips to try to better accommodate his full length. Perhaps the gigai had its limitations; Ichigo would be more impressed with her capabilities if they were in the Soul Society. Looking at his face, though, there was already no disappointment.
            Like a cat, Rangiku arched her back, presenting him with the spread of her ass, heedlessly or intentionally showcasing her cute little asshole. So there were some setbacks with the use of gigai, but that was fine. “Go on now, Ichigo,” she purred, handing him control.
            “I… I’m gonna start now, Rangiku-san,” he notified her a bit too formally in his anxiety. He held onto her hourglass waist, more to support her and himself rather than enhance his thrusts. He pulled back a short way, but then had to stop and shudder. That felt good! He had pried her open, yet her inner muscles continued to swell and grip him. The normal scowl he maintained could not hold up (or down) to the vibrant elation. His breath trembling, he cast his gaze down to their union, watching his cock slowly emerge with a fresh sheen of Rangiku-san’s essence coating him.
            He was halfway out when Rangiku made a soft noise, and suddenly, he rammed back into her like a scared groundhog. Rangiku’s head snapped back at he slammed into her cervix. “Not so rough,” she wheezed at him; he could still feel her cushiony and slick walls fluttering around him. “This gigai doesn’t have the experience to take you that deep.”
            “Sorry” was all the breathless Ichigo could think to say. Really, he had responded on impulse to her previous gasp, thinking in some way that she was making a plea to stop. A ridiculous notion when he thought about it… She wasn’t about to end it now; he wouldn’t believe that.
            Therefore, he resumed the pace. Not bold or exciting, but he was learning the process. Very soon, he was learning the significance of rolling her hips into his thrusts and that the angle of his pushing cock did matter. He rode her over his dick, and she seemed to be enjoying it. She didn’t bother with instruction or anything; let boys learn as they played. She settled on groping her hanging watermelon-sized tits, twisting and pulling at her nipples until they were good and hard and aching and throbbing. But then she also collapsed, sacrificing the reliability of two hands maintaining her weight so that she could fuss about between her legs with her fingers. He felt her lithe digits creeping along the outside of his penetration, not interfering; simply testing the stretch of her pussy around him. But then her focus switched entirely on that nub that he had found so responsive to the flick of his tongue. She sensually stroked the small swath of her orange curls, igniting her excitement before touching upon the swollen pink pearl. He watched her bite down on her bottom lip in rapturous joy, fondling herself while he learned how to properly stretch out her pussy.
            “Uhn! Rangiku-san…!” Ichigo was bowing over her posterior with a look of effort and sweat running down his face to drip off of nose or chin to land on the flushed-pink landscapes of her ass.
            “You’re enjoying yourself,” Rangiku smiled over her shoulder, her own look of elation playing passionate colors on her face. She gyrated, throwing off his hips’ crescendo, stirring him inside of her and showing him what a woman was capable of even in the submissive doggie-position. “Don’t let up~”
            In an act of defiance and excitement, Ichigo swatted her rump, testing its resilience and watching it ripple and brighten from impact. And Rangiku-san, of course, cooed in delight. However, he couldn’t will himself to beat her ass red – he was far from that stage – and had other, passionate things in mind, like grabbing her wrist, disengaging – as he was far from that stage of technique – and turning Rangiku over onto her back with a yelp. Of course, the right attributes swayed and juggled before settling in outward slopes by their own weight. Rangiku blinked and looked up at him looming over her. The significance of his heavy gaze was fascinating as well as subduing. “Ichigo?” It was such an intense moment. She hadn’t felt this since…
            Ichigo kicked her knees apart with his own and slid in between them. With blind accuracy, he met her cleft again and slid up her channel. They both reacted with a prolonged moan that would surely risk Yuzu’s continued interference, but for the moment, Ichigo didn’t worry. It was all about easing between Rangiku-san’s folds. And to his surprise, he found that this position better suited his length. True, he still came against the blockade resisting entry to her womb, but he was deeper. Maybe it did not feel as dramatic as the way he could hit particular ridges and nooks when taking her from behind, but this felt more intimate.
            And it was when his hands went from gripping her wrists to interlocking their fingers. Boyish romanticism; Rangiku allowed it and even moaned into his mouth when he pressed a kiss on her. She was no longer idle and letting him put in all the work. While her breasts pressing into his chest, pillowing his incline against her, were helpful enough by themselves, Rangiku curled and turned her hips into his sloppy, hasty thrusts. And with her strong guidance, he learned and put himself in check.
            But he also couldn’t help himself. He let go on one of her hands to wedge between them to get a full latch on her big breast. He wheezed her name like touching them threatened to unload him again. Her necklace’s rattling was smothered between her compressed chest.
            And if he was going to get handsy, then so was she. Grinning mischievously amongst the grunts and groans and wet smacking between them, Rangiku sailed her free hand downward, around Ichigo’s side to avoid detection, and then reached between their legs. Not for her own fancy this time; she hooked her hand around and caught his tight sac in her hand. He inhaled all at once, pulling up from her body as she fingered his balls, caressing them carefully, pulling just enough to cause pleasure.
            “How’s that?” she asked breathlessly. Her fist closed around them, harboring them until Ichigo struck deep inside of her; deep enough to make her lose her smirk with a wailing moan. She pulled again at his testicles and asked, less confidently, more desperate, “Do you like when I do that?”
            He nodded frantically, his teeth gritting and the cords of his neck flaring. Rangiku’s muscles were convulsing tighter than before, threatening to choke him if he did not surrender what she wanted.
            She arched off the bed and pressed her nude body into him. “Do it!”
            KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCk!! “Onii-chan,” came Yuzu’s frantic cry to the ruckus of a creaking bed and hushed words and random, suspect noises. She was just about ready to cry as she faced the door. “It’s been more than five minutes!
            “Ahh~!!” was the seemingly outraged answer of her brother. He had become so cold to her lately.
            At once, Yuzu swung away from the door, the tears now freely flowing, and she rushed down the stairs in a girlish fit. “Wah~ Onii-chan has such a short temper!”
            From the couch, Karin rolled her eyes to her sister’s troubles and turned up the tv volume.
            “Ahh~!!” Ignoring the knock at the door, Ichigo doubled over Rangiku-san’s body, claimed her hips to steel them against his rigid cock, and began to pour his load into her. The moment the first burst shocked against her cervix, Rangiku tightened up with a cry of her own. Arms and legs clutched to his body, holding him tightly, knees clamping at his waist while her arms pulled him down to her in a hug. He kept spurting and spurting the hot stuff, filling her gigai’s womb with his fertile abundance. Knowing just how to drain him, she rocked her hips and supped out the very last dregs of his sperm while also brushing her clit against his short, prickly bush.
            For the tense moment of shared climax, they didn’t move and just seemed to hold their breath. And then… all that tension came undone. Ichigo fell onto her with his full weight, and she grunted in response. It took him a moment to realize her plight, and lazily pushed himself over to catch his breath and gaze intently at the ceiling. He already felt his cock losing its stature, though it was slow in shrinking, as if it was waiting for a reason to remain hard.
            Rangiku was a natural for it, even when she didn’t mean to be. All she did was sit up after a moment – of course her sexual endurance was higher than Ichigo’s! – lace her fingers, and stretch her arms high overhead with a pleasured sigh. After her after-sex stretch, she beamed down at Ichigo and said, “That wasn’t bad!” She patted his head and added, “Good job, Ichigo! I feel refreshed!”
            “Huh?”
            She leapt up then, all wobbles and sexiness. She lost her balance once or twice, turning to him and laughing that he did more of a number on her than she thought. And of course she addressed the white leakage coming out from between her thighs. Indecently, she thrust her pelvis forward and opened her raw folds to encourage the flow; Ichigo said nothing to the thick spatters that fell on the floorboards that he would need to clean up.
            But Rangiku just looked up from the spectacle with a smile and winked at him. “Congratulations on your first creampie, Ichigo~ Even if it was with a fake body.”
            Ichigo bristled, even though his strength didn’t allow him the will to argue. “Don’t phrase it like that!” He was ashamed enough as it was, losing his will so easily and fucking Rangiku like a pervert.
            “Well, I should be getting back.”
            He blinked when she shrugged her blouse back on and began to button it up. Her cum-filled pussy, she tended to with one of her new garments, mopping up Ichigo’s essence like it was an ordinary rag rather than something that he was forced to pay for. “Not all of it is going to come out right away,” she said, shimmying her way back into her panties and fixing her skirt. “I’ll take care of it at Inoue’s.”
            Ichigo was dumbly following her lead, though he was dressing more clumsily and his hands were much shakier. “Y-you’re leaving?” Not that he was complaining; he just thought she’d made up her mind to stay at his home somehow.
            “Yeah, Captain would worry if I stayed out all night.” She ducked her head and hunched her shoulders. “Don’t tell me your upset.”
            Ichigo turned away immediately. “Not at all.”
            So they dressed and went downstairs. Rangiku said goodbye and apologized for the inconvenience; Karin waved her off while Yuzu continued to sulk and brood in the corner.
            Ichigo walked Rangiku to the fence before they prepared to say goodnight or whatever. He scratched his head and avoided eye contact as best as he could. But Rangiku broke the tension by lifting her breasts and saying, “You can look. You’ve already seen them naked.”
            “It’s not that!” he snapped and wondered how Toshiro had any patience with her.
            Before their awkward parting could conclude, they were interrupted by another interloper. “Lieutenant Matsumoto?” Rukia wasn’t so sure she was seeing right from a distance. But lo and behold, it was the lieutenant of the Tenth Squad at the Kurosaki Clinic (Rukia’s home away from home). Looking back and forth between the two of them – Ichigo seeming strangely awkward – she asked, “What are you doing here?”
            “Oh, Ichigo was just volunteering to take in my wardrobe for a while,” Rangiku answered pleasantly, waving off the question and the entire topic. She turned down the street and excused herself, “I gotta get back now. I can feel it all leaking out now.” She winked again at Ichigo as he flinched dramatically at her statement. She then addressed Rukia before departing, “Take good care of him, Kuchiki~!”
            In confused silence, Rukia watched her take off. It took a while before she asked the obvious question: “What’s leaking out?” She turned mechanically to Ichigo and faced him with an incredulous gaze.
            “How would I know?” he fumbled out, trying to laugh off the question. He was not as good at this role as Rangiku was. But then something else struck him about what Rangiku-san had said in parting. Snarling, he turned to her and roared, “Who said you could use my room as storage?!!”
            When they inevitably ascended the stairs – after Rukia was swamped by a sobbing Yuzu about their brother’s newfound predilections for big-breasted babes – Rukia walked in on a room messed with women’s clothes. Ichigo could easily play that off as Rangiku being a messy person; no debate about that, for her slobby nature was infamous in the Gotei Thirteen. Less easy to explain was the lingering and thick scent of obvious sex… and no bit of evidence was more damning than the globs of cum that Rukia unwittingly stepped in.
            Glaring at Ichigo – who put on a weak, defensive smile – she admonished him. “You perverted fool!”
            Ichigo was subjected to hours-long, edging handjobs, bondage, humiliations, and unresolved sexual tension for the remainder of Rukia’s stay in his closet.
ccc Meanwhile, Orihime’s apartment ccc
            In Toshiro’s absence – there was a call to action for a Hollow – King had taken over his gigai, and with plentiful – and nonsensical – percentages that made perfect sense to her, he had gotten Orihime to undress and let him ease up into her auburn-haired snatch with his engorged cock. They fucked vigorously in the middle of the main room – which the Shinigami had repurposed as a command center – under the pretense that this exercise would increase her desirability to Ichigo by twenty-three percent!
            But she needed to be sure as the pint-sized Mod soul kept pushing into her hole. “Will this—Oh!—will this really impress Kurosaki-kun?!”
            But King had his own thoughts to consider. “If I cum inside her,” he muttered to himself, watching her tits swing in front of his face, “there’s a fifty-nine percent chance that she’ll get pregnant.”
ccc
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A Place to Stay	By : c0p13r Category: Bleach > General Views: 37 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I dont own BLEACH and make no monies off this.

A Place to Stay