Well-Hung by Moonlight – Chapter 01 – Jupiter’s Great Wet Spot, Part One
Started: March 2, 2003
Latest Revision: July 29, 2003
A Story By Warpwizard
A Ranma/Sailor Moon Fanfiction
Big-time Lemon Warning! This is self-indulgent X-rated fantasy piece. Read at your own risk.
* * *
Pretext for this flimsy excuse to get Ranma to bed a sailor Senshi or two:
The/A Senshi is/are hit with a spell from a bad guy: if they don’t get it on with a guy verrrry shortly, they’ll rip themselves to pieces in a paroxysm of lust. The catch is that, (as the villain laughingly informs them), if they try to do it with a regular guy, their frenzied super strength will kill him, even as they orgasm. Sailor Moon is not present, as her magic would be able to dispel the bad guys enchantment. The villain is a new one, who goes in for psychological warfare.
Seriousness Level: 0
* * *
We fade into the scene already in progress, as the Senshi of Wood and Lightning stares disbelievingly at the shadowy figure who has just informed her of her sordid fate, with her already feeling a driving hunger for – something – clawing at her guts…
* * *
“And what are the odds of a super-tough non-scumbag being in this part of town at this time of night? NIL! BWA-HA-HA-HAAAA!! You’ll have to soil yourself with some dirtbag, killing him in the process, thus ruining your sex-life forever! Or even worse, kill an innocent, not great choices, eh? How do you feel? Are you angry? Huh? Call me the Heir Kenshiro, call me the Heirrrrrr…*BA-BLONCH*” (A.N. Sorry, got carried away with FOTNS dialogue there…)
Cue Ranma… J Our hapless hero happens to be walking home after being knocked way far by Akane. He is pissed, thus the walk as opposed to roof hopping. He just regained consciousness a little while ago, thus the lateness of the evening.
Spying a male figure, Makoto, the Senshi of Jupiter, ran like her life depended on it, which it did. Grabbing him by the arms, she felt him up frantically, ‘He seems fit enough…maybe…’
Makoto didn’t slow down in her inspection as she spoke, “P-Pardon me sir, do you happen to be incredibly strong and tough?” Grope, grope. Fondle. ‘Hard arms, nice chest, great abs –’
Ranma was taken aback. His usual suitors were pretty forward, but this tall, oddly dressed (considering the time and place) girl was taking the violation of personal space to a whole new level. “Hey! Lay off with the hands lady!”
Makoto took up a posture that, if it had been invented by someone with the turn of phrase of his no-good father, would have been called “Posture of the Beseeching Maiden”. Makoto clasped her hands together in front of her impressive bosom, and looked at Ranma with huge, wet eyes.
Ranma was ready. He wasn’t the fastest on the interpersonal front, but he had been asked for odd things at odd times by *cough* odd girls enough to know that a strange request was about to be brought forth. From the tall, pretty, brown-haired girl’s look of desperation it was sure to be a doozy.
From Jupiter’s quivering lips came, “Make love to me – right here, right now! Please, I’ll DIE if you don’t!”
“EH?! Now, just a second…”
“No! No time! Now!” With these words Makoto pulled open the front of her outfit, sending buttons flying, simultaneously dissolving her magically created underwear with a flex of her will. Her enormous, though remarkably perky, breasts sprang into view, practically under Ranma’s astonished nose.
Wasting no time, Makoto seized Ranma’s head and pressed it into the awesome expanse of her cleavage. She then proceeded to firmly rub his face back and forth across her screamingly sensitive nipples, trying to kill two birds with one stone: subduing her “target” and getting some relief at the same time.
“Ahhhhhhh…” Makoto was in bliss.
Ranma’s hands came up and seized Makoto’s, prying them off his face with remarkable strength. “Whuuuughhh…” Ranma pulled his face out of the “valley” and uncrossed his eyes. His various encounters with amorous fiancées had given him a remarkable resistance to blatant displays of feminine pulchritude and even physical contact with same and thus he wasn’t reduced to Ryoga-like helplessness by the desperate girl’s “boob stun” attack.
Makoto was impressed by his ability to break her magically strengthened grip. He was looking better and better as her savior. Ranma was inadvertently holding her hands and she took advantage of that fact to twine her fingers with his and try reasoning with him.
She wet her lips and implored, “Please, I know it sounds crazy, but I’m a Sailor Senshi and a bad guy hit me with some sort of compulsion spell…if I don’t uummm…have s-sex really really soon then I’ll die!”
Ranma tried to say something, but Makoto overrode him, “You’re the only one who can help me!” She eyed him for a moment, “You’re really super-strong aren’t you? I can tell. I – I need a guy like that to help me, ‘cause I’m super-strong too, and I think I’d accidentally hurt a regular guy, if we – you know, did it!”
“You don’t want the death of a defender of love and justice on your conscience, do you?” she pleaded prettily.
Ranma considered. Not his forte, true, but it’s something that he had to do once in a while. His gut was telling him that she was telling the truth, and he trusted his gut. Trusting your gut was a Saotome tradition in fact, for all sorts of things, chiefly when to eat, but it was also good for quick, vital decisions.
Another thing influencing his decision was that he noticed that the girl in the abbreviated fuku was literally gushing down her legs with sexual lubricant. He wasn’t the most sexually experienced guy in the world either, but his nose told him that the girl was clearly desperate for sex, just like she said. At the same time she didn’t seem to be slutty or a hooker, so her story, crazy as it sounded, could very well be true. Crazier things had happened to HIM, that’s for sure! Nothing so sexual though, thank Kami.
Ranma nodded, face resolute, “All right, I believe you – mmmpphh!”
Makoto took this as the checkered flag – as in at the Indy 500. In a trice, her soft lips were locked with Ranma’s and her tongue was questing hungrily for his.
Makoto placed one of his hands on her left boob and the other she plunged into her soaked panties. Breaking the lip lock, she breathed, “See how wet I am? I need you...what’s your name?”
“Ranma – mmmmph,” supplied the martial artist, before being pulled back into lip-to-lip contact.
* * *
Ranma was finding the sensual contact with this tall, beautiful, well-built girl very pleasant. He’d always been forced to avoid any sort of physical displays of affection from the various girls that were interested in him, partly due to conflicting demands on his honor, and partly due to the desire to keep his freedom and not be enslaved/married.
He’d also noticed, on the few chances he had to observe other guys his age, that they seemed to be far more interested in girls than he was. It wasn’t something that he’d really thought much about, as he considered girls to be, largely, a distraction from the Art. An attitude which his Pop shared and one of the few things about Ranma that the worthless old panda seemed to openly approve of.
However, Ranma was, frankly, starved for any sort of affection (also due to his Pop) and was also affected by the built-in human desire for the comfort of physical contact with an affectionate partner. Actual sexual information he was amazingly ignorant of, for a boy his age. He knew more about Martial Arts than a half-dozen ordinary black-belts put together and enough about Ki, the human aura and the human body to shame an advanced esoteric medical practitioner (not Doc Tofu though), but any issue of Playboy or Penthouse would contain enough completely new information to boggle his mind for days.
At the moment, his mind was filled with the unfamiliar and very nice feeling of Mokoto’s warm body pressed tightly against his, while his mouth was locked with hers, their tongues sliding slippery-ly together. Ranma’s hard right hand gingerly explored the terrain of the enormous, soft-skinned but hard-tipped mound it had been placed on, while his left mapped the unknown lands of the sex-crazed girl’s slippery-wet crotch.
He knew a bit about the female body, obviously, since he turned into one on a regular basis, but he wasn’t sure how things varied from female to female, despite the abundant opportunities for “research” that he was offered virtually every day. His danger sense would scream every time that occurred and if there was one thing he knew he could trust in his mixed-up life, it was his sense for a situation that was going to bite him on the ass. The few times he’d ignored it (the Amazon village came to mind), he’d regretted it profoundly.
Meanwhile, the senshi of Jupiter was not idle. She was loving the passionate kiss (her first real one, actually) that she was sharing with her lucky find and crushing herself against her new male friend’s incredibly hard (and yummy) body was providing some relief, but she could still feel the “bomb” that magic-powered sicko had planted in her crotch (so to speak) rapidly approaching critical mass.
Moaning into Ranma’s mouth, Makoto aggressively slid one slender, long-fingered hand into Ranma’s loose silk pants and quested for the hard staff that she needed to put out her fire. The thought of how shocked the other senshi would be to see her blatantly fondling a guy in public occurred to her as she did so. For some reason, this excited her tremendously, causing her to shiver with a mini-climax. Pulling her mouth from her soon-to-be lover’s with a moist “pop!”, she panted shallowly, resting her chin on his broad shoulder as she shamelessly groped for his genitals.
* * *
It was with a sinking feeling that Makoto voiced the first words either of them had said in several minutes. “Oh my.”
“What is it?”
Makoto looked into Ranma’s concerned blue-gray eyes. “You’re still limp.”
“Limp?”
Urgency made the desperate Senshi not mince words. “Your penis – it should be hard by now!”
“Eh?” Ranma knew what a penis was, it was the thing in his pants that he used to pee. It getting hard was something he was unfamiliar with. Other than that problem he’s had when he was younger – an uneasy feeling filled his stomach at that moment. He strained his superb memory and managed to dredge up the relevant memory in seconds.
When he was several years younger and going through the first of a series of growth spurts, as well as odd feelings and bodily changes, like growing more body hair, he had woken up one day with a hard and swollen penis after a series of odd dreams. The dreams had involved some attractive girls in the small town he and his Pop had recently visited.
Naturally he’d been puzzled and had asked his Pop about the strange and rather uncomfortable condition. Pushing his memory to the limit, he could see a strange cloud pass through Genma’s eyes as he explained to his son that it was a minor medical condition that was common among boys his age.
His father had gone on to explain that a series of pressure point treatments, repeated periodically would take care of it. By this point in his life, Ranma had learned that a lot of what his Pop told him was 100 percent pure crap, but about Martial Art procedures and anything relating to his general health and well being (as long as it didn’t come into conflict with the aforementioned Martial Arts procedures that is – Neko-Ken anyone?), he could generally be trusted.
Therefore, Ranma allowed his father to treat his “problem” and sure enough, after that he wasn’t bothered by it again. The procedure was repeated once a year and the blissfully ignorant young Martial Artist thought nothing more about it.
* * *
Fire flashed in Ranma’s eyes as he locked gazes with the distressed Senshi of Jupiter. He stared into Makoto’s lovely green orbs and asked urgently, “I know this sounds stupid, but tell me how sex is supposed to work.”
Makoto didn’t waste time on wondering why we was asking this other than the rather uncharitable thoughts, that zipped through her mind in an instant, along the lines of, “Of all the hunks in Japan, I get the one with no idea what to do with a girl!” and the like.
Makoto blinked her big eyes and stammered cutely. “U-um, in a nutshell, a guy and a girl find each other attractive, they touch each other all over, and a-ahm, h-her vagina gets wet and his penis gets hard and they –“ Makoto blushed a deep, rosy red, “um, his penis get big and hard and long and he slides it into her vagina.”
Ranma gripped her by the shoulders and stared fiercely into her eyes. “Anything else?”
Makoto’s arousal was approaching the explosion point. She trembled in Ranma’s firm grip and stared back at him, her flush staying and even increasing, as her legs wobbled, made weak with unsatisfied desire. Being effectively *forced* to describe the details of “the deed” to this gorgeous hunk of manhood was turning her on something fierce. It was not something she had every imagined herself having to do.
“He slides it in and out of her pussy – I mean vagina! – over and over and *over* –” Makoto had to forcibly redirect her thoughts at this point – “Ahm, until they both cum – I mean climax, like *orgasm*, you know!”
No, evidently Ranma did NOT know, from the ignorance she saw swirling in the blue-gray orbs before her. As the lovely brown-haired defender of love and justice watched apprehensively, barely restraining her rapidly-becoming-uncontrollable arousal, she saw numerous emotions flash rapidly through those expressive eyes. Most were dark – anger, betrayal, despair, but she saw a bit of relief and understanding at the end of the few seconds she was lost in his powerful stare.
Ranma, despite what most people thought, was not stupid. He was ignorant – vastly so, in some cases – and proud, but he was NOT slow on the uptake. He had his flaws, a number of them, but being a dummy was not one of them. In a instant he had processed the information Makoto had given him, cross-correlated it (though he didn’t know that word) against a number of anomalous feeling/events in his life and things suddenly made a lot more sense to him.
“God DAMN you, Pop…” he growled, almost under Makoto’s threshold of hearing. The rage and spark of betrayal in his voice made Makoto shiver again and would have inspired a display of sympathy which Ranma would have profoundly enjoyed, but it didn’t happen, due to her being so goddamn HORNY.
“Ranma…” she whispered, tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry about your problem, but I’m going to *DIE* if you, if you –“
“I know. I’m sorry.” In an instant, Ranma had bottled up his negative feelings with an ease that made Mokoto suspect that he did it often.
The solemn faced martial artist continued, “There’s something wrong with my Ki, I know that now, but don’t worry, I can fix it.”
“You’re going to have to fix it *quick*!” she blurted.
“I can,” he interrupted, flashing her an infectious grin that said, without words, “Ranma Saotome never loses.”
“Come on.” With that, Ranma swooped Makoto’s leggy body into his arms and, as she shrieked in surprise, leaped onto a nearby rooftop and began bounding across the city.
“Where-“
“There’s an alley where a furniture warehouse puts its garbage. We should be able to find a bed, or at least a couch.”
“Oh.” Makoto relaxed in her savior’s arms, at least as much as she could with the blazing heat in her genitals making her want to thrash and scream. Her arousal was rapidly growing unbearable. ‘Please get us there soon, Ranma. Please…’ The strong-willed girl steeled herself and devoted her dwindling stores of resolve to clinging to her self-control. Dying this way would be a failure of her duty to her Princess, not to mention *really* embarrassing.
* * *
END – Well-Hung by Moonlight – Chapter 01 – Jupiter’s Great Wet Spot, Part One
* * *