Bleach fic: Good Clean Fun
Good Clean Fun
Ikkaku was in the shower. Keigo had divulged their guest’s whereabouts only as a result of her rather insistent poke to his arm with her pointiest finger, then gone off to sulk and rub his newest bruise.
Mizuho had been immediately assaulted by the mental image of her most persistent recent fantasy, that of Ikkaku leaning against the wet tiles, hand moving steadily over his cock as he masturbated and the water streamed over slick, hard muscles.
“That’s just wrong,” she breathed, eyes wide with horror. “There’s no reason whatsoever that he should have to take care of himself like that, not when I’m here.” If she thought about it like that, it was nearly a moral imperative for her to barge into the bathroom and help him out.
“Who’s that?” he demanded when she opened the door. The little room was hazy with steam from the hot water, and the glass shower door was fogged up, permitting only the barest outline of his form within, but it was enough to send Mizuho’s pulse soaring.
“It’s me,” she replied, hands on the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it off and dropping it into the sink. “I thought you might be lonely.”
He slid open the shower door and poked his head out, a fearsome glower on his face. “It’s a shower, not solitary confinement,” he said. “I think I’ll be okay.”
But his eyes were on the descent of her shorts down her legs, and they brightened when the shorts hit the floor and revealed the panties still confined within.
“But, uh, maybe it is a little boring in here by myself,” he allowed after her bra was tossed into the sink on top of the t-shirt and her breasts were revealed in all their petite but perky glory.
Mizuho flashed him a grin. “I had a feeling you might come to see it that way.”
She took a step toward him and leaned against the jamb of the shower door, wanting to tease him a little. “But it’s pretty small in there,” she pretended to hedge even as she reached out to run a finger along the wing of a collarbone, up the long, wet tendon of his neck. “I don’t know if we’ll both fit.”
He quivered at the touch, and his eyes narrowed. “We’ll fit,” he told her, and yanked her inside.
She went easily, eagerly, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him with fervor as the water pelted down, soaking her until she was as drenched as he. She thought she heard the shower door slam shut, but Ikkaku was pressing her against the cold tile and grinding his hardening cock against her belly and she really didn’t care if the floor got wet.
Mizuho pulled out of the kiss to draw in a breath. Panting, her head fell back at the feel of his prick sliding insistently between her thighs, rubbing against her enough to tease but not satisfy.
“Oh, god, I want you,” she moaned, and wrapped a leg around his hip, trying to press as closely as possible. The next, most logical action would be for him to guide himself into her, but he did nothing. In fact, his motions slowed nearly to a stop, and Mizuho opened her eyes to find out why.
He was staring at her, brows drawn together in a frown. His cheeks were flushed from excitement, and his dark eyes were blazing with lust.
“What?” she demanded, undulating her hips at him in a wordless admonition to get on with it, already. “Why’d you stop?”
He speared his fingers into the soaked hair on either side of her face and held her head immobile, then kissed her ferociously. His tongue- Mizuho searched her mind for the proper word- ravaged her mouth, insistently probing, demanding a response. She gladly gave it, kissing him back, her own tongue advancing to lap at his teeth and rub alongside his.
“If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to die,” she gasped at last. Her chest felt tightly wound, like a spring coiled within was desperate to burst free. She was almost shaking with arousal, and it was fantastic and hot but she was tired of waiting.
Ikkaku groaned and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. One hand skimmed the length of her leg to her ankle, propping it higher and more securely around his waist while the other guided his cock. He rubbed himself between her folds, drenching himself and making her cry out, softly and then louder, with each pass over her swollen, aching clitoris.
“Now,” she commanded, nipping at his earlobe and pressing her fingertips into the cords of his neck, urging him to hurry.
With another groan, he gave up trying to hold out and slid in to the hilt. The transition from empty to full was so quick, so complete, that Mizuho jerked in surprise, her hands scrabbling over the wet skin of his thick shoulders and digging in for purchase.
“Yessss,” she hissed, fiercely delighted. Then Ikkaku started to move, and she melted against him, rolling her pelvis to match each thrust. “Oh, god, so good, so good, so-oh, yes, like that, harder.” Her hands dropped to his ass and clamped around his buttocks, the flex and release of the muscles there arousing her even more (if that were possible, which Mizuho found hard to believe). She wondered, dimly, if he liked being spanked, and if he’d ever let her play with his butt, and the idea pushed her further along, turning her on even more.
“Ungh,” he replied, pumping into her steadily, his breathing quick. He felt tense against her, like he was restraining himself tightly, and Mizuho realized he was holding off from coming because she hadn’t yet.
Holy shit, she thought, touched. The knowledge- and a particularly skillful thrust that ground his pubic bone against her clit- sent her flying headlong into orgasm, and her entire world spun away as her body wracked in a rhythm of clench and release.
That was all he needed to let go, himself; with a harsh exhale against her neck, Ikkaku convulsed in the embrace of her arms and legs. “Oh… shit… god… crap…” he gasped, pouring himself out, hips snapping in shallow, searing thrusts.
Waves of bliss coursed over her, slowly ebbing, leaving her wrapped in euphoria. Mizuho’s limbs felt like rubber; she loved coming hard, but she always felt like she was melting, afterward.
“You’re awesome at this,” she murmured happily, a misty smile on her lips as she rested her head against the tile. The water was still running hot, to her satisfaction, and enjoyed the feel of it washing over whatever part of her wasn’t pressed against Ikkaku.
Slumped against her, his body holding her up against the shower wall, he grinned against her neck. “Had decades to practice,” he muttered.
She snorted. “What, did you start when you were five?” she countered. “You’re only a few years older than me.”
“I’m a lot older than you think,” he informed her, pulling back so he could look at her. “A lot older.”
Mizuho rolled her eyes. “Keh,” she said. She wasn’t fooled- he didn’t look a day over twenty-five. “If you say so.”
“I do say so.” His tone brooked no argument, and the forcefulness of it sent a thrill through her. Maybe next time, they could play a few little games where he was all pushy and bossy and she had to submit to his whims.
But thoughts of “next time” gave way to thoughts of “how long will he be around?” because she knew he wasn’t going to be shacking up with her and Keigo forever. When would he go? And where?
Thinking about where he’d go led, logically, to thinking about from where he’d come. Mizuho had been wondering what Ikkaku’s story was, why he and his fruity friend needed a place to crash, and how Keigo had come to offer up their apartment (not that she was complaining).
Still, she figured, he’d tell her when he wanted her to know. She wasn’t one to pry, and all told, she was mostly concerned with the present rather than the past. Slightly concerned about the future, perhaps…
“I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone.” She clamped her Kegels around his softening length, still embedded inside her, and smiled wider to feel it reawaken. “How can I go back to my vibrator after this?”
His eyes widened and glazed at the idea. “You have one of those?”
Mizuho nodded, giving him a crafty grin. “And if you’re lucky, I’ll even let you watch me use it.”
Then grinned wider when he groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder once more, hips moving to pulse his renewed erection into her.
Really, men were so easy.