Ranma knocked and looked nervously at the name on the apartment door. He took a quick glance off the balcony; nobody in sight, thankfully. He didn't think anybody would've tracked him down this quickly, but his life seemed to thrive upon unlikely events. Hell, this latest thing was just -
"Ah! You're here! I mean, come in, come in!"
Ranma started at Makoto's voice - he hadn't heard the door open. He took one last quick look around and then ducked inside, giving the brown-haired young woman a sheepish smile.
She had changed outfits since they had parted ways earlier that day. The beige turtleneck and dark green slacks outlined her form only vaguely, but his mind's eye filled in the hidden details. The long brown hair was only loosely bound in a ponytail; it occurred to him that he'd never actually seen it unbound. She shut the door and looked at him.
The silence was awkward, but Ranma didn't really know what to say. 'I'm here to screw your brains out', while accurate, didn't seem appropriate. Nor did 'I'm sorry for ruining your life' seem polite either, although it'd be equally accurate.
What do you say to someone whom you not only had a massively intimate encounter with, but whose friends were also involved in said encounter? And, as if that wasn't awkward enough, someone you came to meet for the explicit purpose of another intimate encounter, which would be necessary if said someone was to be able to perform as a schoolgirl demon-hunting vigilante?
He desperately tried to think of something to say, and all he could come up with was...
"This is kind of awkward, isn't it?"
He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head.
Makoto closed and locked the door, then looked at the young man in front of her. She'd given him her apartment number, but hadn't expected him to show up this evening. Heck, she was still in the 'What happened yesterday/today?' phase. She hadn't yet adjusted to being in a massive six-way orgy with her closest friends and a handsome stud their age, and here he was for a more personal 'round two'.
She blushed. Not that she was against it or anything - she'd never felt that good in her life - but it seemed kind of... rushed. What if he was just here out of a sense of responsibility to take care of her transformed self? What if he thought she was a lousy lay?
They exchanged greetings and then... nothing. She felt like he was examining her inch by inch, and she felt shy, as well as a bit arouse. Was there something wrong? Why didn't he say anything? Maybe he was waiting for her to say something?
What do you say, anyway, to someone whom you knew, body and soul, in the most intimate of manners, but whom you didn't know anything about? She knew his name (Ranma) and... that was it.
She opened her mouth to say something — she didn't know what — when he beat her to it.
"This is kind of awkward, isn't it?"
She looked up at him and couldn't help but laugh at his expression. He looked endearingly cute like that.
"Yeah, I guess it is."
She looked around quickly at the apartment. Luckily she kept it fairly clean, so she wouldn't be embarrassed by a dirty floor or trash lying around.
"I was just cooking some dinner -- join me?"
His eyes lit up and he nodded.
Makoto watched with a smile as Ranma finished up his (large) portion. This was something she'd always dreamed of. Her most treasured memories of her parents were of her parents; her mother loved to cook, and her father always complimented the meal with kind words and a passionate kiss. In the lonely years that followed their deaths, she'd taken up cooking on her own. At first it was to keep something of her mother alive, but later she cooked because she wanted someone like her father; someone to keep the loneliness at bay, someone who would love her.
She looked at Ranma. Ranma looked at her.
Makoto took a breath and held up her transformation pen.
"JUPITER - mmph!"
Ranma pulled her back down and took the pen out of her hand before releasing her mouth.
"Wait on that, okay? When the others... well, it was like they were driven to do it, you know? And I kind of thought... well, I kind of thought it'd be better if we did it normally first."
He looked straight at her for a long moment.
"I'm not the best guy around, and I'm pretty sure I don't deserve any one of you or your friends. But let me try and make things up to you a little, okay?"
She mutely nodded, and he smiled that devastatingly vulnerable-yet-handsome smile before bending down and kissing her tenderly. His smile turned mischievous and he bobbed his head to plant a small kiss on the side of her neck, making her squeak.
As Makoto turned away to pull the futon out from the closet, Ranma took a deep breath and glared down at his hands, which were trembling slightly. He shouldn't be nervous — he'd done this before, right?
But before it was all need and action and little thought involved. This time there was nothing like that — he felt... scared. He didn't want to screw things up — he NEEDED to prove that he wasn't just using her for sex, to prove that he DID care about her, about her feelings.
He could tell by the way she moved that she was feeling just as nervous, and he took another deep breath, letting his mind relax. Oddly enough, seeing that she was just like he was made him feel calmer.
He knelt and watched quietly as she set up the futon and then moved quietly, circling his arms around her waist. She tensed before relaxing back into his embrace, bending her neck so she could see him out of the corner of her eye.
"Let's take it slow," he whispered in her ear before kissing his way down her jawline. "I'll be here all night for you."
It was, apparently, the right thing to say, as she turned in his arms and gave him a lingering kiss that sent sparks all the way down his spine. He shivered in reaction and slid his hands up under her shirt, tracing the shape of her back and pressing in slightly as he pulled her firmly against him.
Somehow he found himself on his back, his shirt half-off and a writhing brown-haired girl kissing her way down his chest as his hands massaged her breasts. She squeaked as he rolled them both over and pinned her to the futon, pulling her up to give her a hard yearning kiss. He bit down and tugged lightly on her lower lip as he ran he hands down her side. Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, he pulled it up and over her head and arms in a single motion, tossing it over to the side before sitting up to look down at her.
His green-eyed lover stared back up at him, and he decided that there was nothing so beautiful as that flushed face staring straight at him, telling him without words that she wanted him, needed him. He took a moment to admit that his face probably looked the same way, and then he dove back down.
Her gasps were almost musical as he played with her breasts, alternating between kissing and suckling, with his hands memorizing every inch of her exposed arms and torso. He ran his fingertips lightly over her stomach and sides and she giggled in surprise before reaching up and doing the same to him.
He released her breast as they briefly fought for supremacy; she managed to roll them back over, putting her on top, but he got both of her wrists together in one hand as his other raced over and over her ribs, reducing her to convulsive laughter.
"I give! I give! Enough!"
He stopped and released her wrists, only to find her hands darting again for his stomach. He grunted and grabbed both of them, bringing her arms out to the sides as he pulled her down for another lingering kiss.
Pants soon followed the shirts, and both took a moment to catch a breath and exchange a few more kisses and to enjoy the sensations of skin against skin.
Ranma grunted in surprise as Makoto reached into his boxers and gave him a quick squeeze before stripping him of his last article of clothing. She gave his member a quick kiss before sliding her way sensuously back up his body, and he inhaled sharply at the dreamy, almost wanton expression on her face.
Giving him another lingering kiss and a whispered "Just lie back and enjoy", Makoto slid back down and started kissing and licking his member. He arched his back slightly as she opened her mouth and slid him inside; it felt like a wet furnace, but in a good way. Her tongue traced random patterns over his penis, and her lips moved slowly up and down, up and down. The waves of pleasure came faster and faster, and he could feel his awareness narrowing down to a single point.
And then Makoto stopped. Ranma let out an involuntary groan, and she laughed; he could feel himself twitching for release. She moved back up to lie beside him and looked at him with a devilish smile.
Rolling over on top of her, Ranma decided turnout was indeed fair play. He started at her jaw, tracing lines of bone and muscle down her neck, over her collarbones, and to her ample chest. He detoured to the sides to trace each nipple slowly with a ring of kisses, then continued until he hit her underwear. Looking up to give her a smirk, he pulled her panties down and traced the neatly trimmed patch of hair that lay underneath.
Recalling scenes from yesterday, he gave Makoto's pussy a light lick, decided that the taste, while an acquired one, was rather pleasant, and bent industrious to the task. Holding her body still with his arms, he played her like a musical instrument; he gauged his progress by the sighs and moans she made, and he watched the involuntary movements of her athletically muscular legs and her abdomen as his fingers and tongue worked their way up and down, in and out.
He circled his tongue around the little nub of flesh at the top and was rewarded by a cry and an slight arch of the back. His finger drove deep in her, eliciting another, softer exclamation. His finger moved at a quickened pace as his tongue traced the mound of hair again, and he could feel the change in her breathing and the flexing of her legs. Driven by a sudden mischievous impulse, he looked back up at her and caught her eyes before baring his teeth in a smile and slowly - and lightly, ever so lightly - biting down on that tiny nub.
Makoto's back arched sharply and he could feel every muscle in her body tense and she cried out before collapsing back on the futon, panting hard.
He impishly kissed his way back up her body, ending with a tender press against her lips and a smile. Sitting up, Ranma looked down at the sweat-covered body of his lover, idly tracing lines of muscle along her stomach.
That had been fun, but he wanted more now. Coaxing Makoto into sitting up as well, he scooted over and pulled her into his lap. His member pressed against her entrance, and he rubbed himself against her.
He watched Makoto's face as he lifted her body up and then slowly dropped it back down. Her expression seemed to open itself up as he felt the warmth of her core enfold him. At first they moved awkwardly, but soon they found a rhythm, going faster and faster until there was nothing but flesh against flesh and the moist sounds of pleasure.
He cried out as his release came, and hers soon after, and they both fell back on the bedding, exhausted.
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(Posted Mon, 14 Aug 2006 04:26)
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