Bleach fanfic-Free Fly Zone IchiHime rated NC18
Title: Free Fly Zone
Author: StarbearerTM
Pairing: IchigoxOrihime
Genre: PWP
Rating: NC17
Word count: 4805
A/N: written for my friend Fuji Masaki who loves this pairing.
Summary: On hot summer afternoons, Ichigo tries to take care of a faulty clothing fastener. Can Orihime give him a hand?
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo created bleach and it is licensed by Shonen Jump, not me. I make no money from the writing of this story.
Being caught out was something that Ichigo had some experience with, but being stuck behind the bike shed in the rim of trees would be one of the more embarrassing places. Perhaps that was why Ichigo leaned against the wall of the storage shed in the shade that afternoon. It was nearly summer and already he felt the heat gathering in his clothes. Sneaking a glimpse of Orihime’s bouncing breasts as she pulled off her vest sometimes when it was too hot in the class wasn’t helpful either.
Filled with the urges of a horny teenager, Ichigo often found isolated places to pleasure himself. The object of his fantasies was always her. Though he kept the appearance of a chaste hero, he had his needs he relieved in private. Unfortunately he saw sating these needs as a shameful but necessary secret instead of something natural like his idiot father seemed to insist.
Bent over sitting Indian style behind that bike shed in the cool shade the substitute shingami sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead. Carefully he unzipped his straining paints and reached inside to pull his member out into the slight breeze. The contrast between hot and cool inside and out was a blissful release.
“Ahhh… man,” he sighed in relief, wrapping his hand around the engorged flesh jutting up proudly.
She would call out “Kurosaki-kun.” He could hear her voice in his mind as he ran his thumb down the vein in front, stifling the groan.
“Kurosaki-kun!” called out a voice in the distance. Tensing, Ichigo snapped his head up. That sounded close. Damn his lack of ability to sense reiatsu.
“Crap. Crap, Crap,” Ichigo gritted, fumbling to zip up his pants.
“Are you over here Kurosaki-kun? Tatsuki chan wondered if you had heat stroke you rushed off so quickly!” called the healer’s voice. The substitute shingami cursed as he felt his zipper sticking in a fold of his underwear as he struggled to do it up. Standing up with his back braced to the wall, he bent over in an attempt to unzip and put his hand in the front of his pants to stop it from getting caught on his member.
“Fricking zipper,” he cursed, but heard her footsteps pounding on the pavement leading to the back of the bike shed. So much for keeping quiet.
The heat of her body seemed to radiate toward him as did the sound of her panting hearing her next call of, “Kurosaki-kun, is that you?”
“I… Inoue,” he stammered, spinning around. Shakily he jerked at the stubborn zipper. He tugged out his shirt to try and pull it down.
“Are you ok? Are you sick? What’s wrong?” she gasped, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. Ichigo’s muscles tensed.
“It… it’s nothing. My zipper… is stuck,” Ichigo lamely mumbled. At least it was true.
“Your zipper? Oh, that’s ok I can fix it! Let me see,” Orihime chirped brightly, ducking around him. The substitute shingami cupped his hands over the area, mortified. His silent please of ‘don’t look’ went unnoticed. Of all the blasted luck.
“It’s ok!” Ichigo insisted, holding up one of his hands and waving it.
When his fingers brushed something soft he opened his eyes to see Orihime standing with her hands braced on her knees covered in those white socks. Only a small piece of her flesh was revealed on her upper thighs. The perfect ratio known as the zetta retai was exemplified on her shapely body to his delight and mixed shame. How soft those thighs would feel on either side of his hips crossed his mind before Ichigo mentally chided himself to stop thinking like a pervert.
“Don’t be shy Kurosaki-kun. Where’s the zipper? I’m really good at getting them unstuck,” Orihime said gently. “You… you don’t look so good. Why are you so flushed… oh my goodness you’re getting heat stroke!”
“Inoue… I’m FINE!” Ichigo blurted out. Seeing that face crumple in hurt as well as her backing away snapped Ichigo out of his funk and he stood up, forgetting his zipper and his predicament.
“I... I’m sorry… Kurosaki-kun. It’s just that I don’t want you to get sick and pass out and crack your head open on the pavement! I know I can heal you but you SHOULD really be careful!” Orihime said as she wrung her hands.
“Inoue, it’s ok. I’m sorry to snap. I just… shit…” The substitute shingami said quickly, closing the gap between them as he put his hand on her shoulder, the least offensive place. She raised a cool hand to his head and wiped at the sweat worriedly.
“You ARE hot… I’ll get you some wa… water…” she suggested, but her face was filled with a cute pink blush.
“What’s wrong Inoue? I said I didn’t mean to upset you,” Ichigo said as he saw her slightly embarrassed look.
“Your… your barn door… is open,” she whispered pointing down.
“Oh crap my fly,” Ichigo complained, slapping his hand down over it. Orihime’s stunned look continued to weird him out because she reached out her hand only to pull it back.
“A… I ah… hahaha…” she laughed awkwardly sticking her tongue out. “I… no… wonder you were worried about THAT zipper. If you want I can still… try and fix it.”
The substitute shingami bit his lip, caught between saying hell yes and telling her that it wasn’t a problem so he wouldn’t further embarrass himself. He was sure he was as red as his namesake by this point but Orihime’s head bobbing down brought his eyes down to where she peered at it, lifting the flap of cloth. He breathed deeply, words caught in his throat as he muttered, “You… you don’t have to… I…”
“I want to help fix it, Kurosaki-kun,” she said in a breathless voice, her hand reaching to pull aside the cloth. Ichigo bit his lip, shivering at her hand barely brushing over his straining lump.
“That’s not… the only problem,” Ichigo hissed through clenched teeth.
“You’re not stuck in it are you?” Orihime asked, kneeling down in front of him as she grabbed the tab of the zipper and the cloth.
“No,” The substitute shingami muttered, closing his eyes and trying to relax. He couldn’t stop her now even if he wanted to. But that hand tracing over the seam of his bulge almost made him cry out.
“Oh thank goodness,” The healer whispered, her hands making small movements that he could feel each jerk and tug. “It’s just caught in the cloth right here.”
How she failed to comment on his erection was beyond him. Was she just being polite or was she that oblivious. Ichigo caught hold of her hand and rasped, “Be careful.”
His hand lightly caressed her wrist attached to the hand cupping over his bulge. Not to pull it away, but hold it in place before he lost his nerve.
“I… I’m glad you weren’t caught in it…” she muttered in relief. “But you could if you’re not careful.”
“Inoue… stand up,” Ichigo whispered hoarsely.
“Kurosaki-kun?” she asked, eyes growing wide as he tugged her to her feet. “Is that… part of you?”
The substitute shingami nodded slowly, swallowing. His lips felt dry and chapped in the heat not just of her body but of the summer day. Suddenly he wanted to tear off his confining clothes but he wasn’t sure if it was the hollow or his own perversion finally slipping through. Orihime slipped her hand down there again, lightly palming his erection through the cloth. “You… you don’t have to do that.”
“But you need my help with THAT too, or it could get worse,” she said wide eyed. “Please let me, unless you’d prefer someone else to…”
Waving his hands frantically Ichigo grunted, “No it’s okay. it’s just… that if it’s you I don’t mind, but if it was anyone else I’d tell them to buzz off.”
“I’m glad,” she murmured, slipping her hand into his pants while her other tried to tug at the zipper.
“If you keep doing that I’m gonna lose it,” Ichigo warned, a growl erupting in his throat. Of their own accord his arms wrapped around her and crushed her to his body so her breasts squashed against his hard chest. Ohh did that feel good.
“I don’t mind if it’s you, either,” she panted, glancing up at him. “So… I’ll help.”
“With the zipper or my other problem?” he trailed off, running his hand over the small of her back. That pink tongue licking her lips was all it took for him to bend down and claim those lips then and there.
“Finally King,” whispered his hollow.
“Shut up,” Ichigo thought back, but barely processed the thought before his tongue brushed her lips. Against him he felt the healer leaning hard, the sound of a soft sigh muffled against his mouth. Without thinking he curved his hand over her backside and yanked it into his pelvis so her hands were pressed tightly against his crotch. Damn did that feel SO much better.
Dizzily Orihime reeled from the kiss, resting her hand against Ichigo’s chest. He saw the top of her head and felt her cheek smooshed against his shirt so the button dug into his flesh. His other hand slipped through her long light brown hair hungrily twisting it around his fingers. She murmured, “Kurosaki-kun… don’t let go… I want to…”
Unsure on his own shaky legs Ichigo backed away taking her with him. Seeing she was determined Ichigo couldn’t argue with her reasons. His back hit the wall and he leaned on it for support, slowly sliding down it. Lips close to her ear he whispered, “Let’s sit on the ground. I don’t think I can stand up.”
“I’m sorr…” she got out but he pulled her down to a crouching position. Sitting his bottom on the floor he then folded his legs. The healer settled on her knees right in front of him, her body thankfully blocking any view of his unzipped pants. The substitute shingami pulled her by the back of her neck into another kiss. This time his tongue pressed into the seam of her lips clumsily. Sharp puffs of air fanned his slightly open mouth when hers opened to catch more breath.
One handed he fumbled at his belt till she glanced down to help undo it. Ichigo at last slipped the button out of its straining hole. Between them the thick air was damp with humidity but cool from the shade. Her eyes were hypnotized to the motion of his hand reaching in to free himself from his pants and underwear. At once her soft fingers slipped over the engorged head just above his hand wrapped around the base.
“Don’t worry I know what to do!” she said brightly.
Hair fell around his member tickling it once Orihime bent over. Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut feeling her moist tongue tracing over the tip. At the last moment he choked out, “Stop, that’s enough.”
“O… okay Kurosaski kun,” she answered, voice wavering.
“Use your hand this time,” he whispered, pushing her up so their eyes met. His other hand pulled hers to join his.
In an equally tiny whisper she queried, “You aren’t in pain are you? I hate seeing you hurting, Kurosaki-kun.”
“Pain’s the last thing I’m feeling.” Lips parted he panted, “No… don’t be afraid to play with… you know…”
Intently she stared down at the slick hard object they both grasped. Her finger brushed along the bottom ridge at the same time her other hand moved over the tip. She watched Ichigo’s own hand squeezing and pulling. He let out a low moan at her fingers squeezing above his trying to mimic his movements. At last he removed his hand so hers replaced it tugging upwards at the same time clenching.
“Mm… ah… oh yes Inoue… just like that,” he groaned when her index finger traveled along the underside vein of his member. Again she wiggled her digit up and down before she heard the substitute shingami's strangled moan reminding her of the noise he made biting into a chocolate bar. Inoue giggled the slightest bit, entranced with her ministrations. Ichigo pulled her forwards to slip his tongue into her mouth and get a better taste. Her startled gasp was the first thing he swallowed before his tongue slid against hers to show her the way.
Her stunned tongue danced along with his once the healer processed the very fact her crush was content kissing her. At the same time she played his hands contoured her breasts. He couldn't resist squeezing them together and pushing them flat only to tug them up a bit. Atop her nipples he pinched using index and forefinger, after swallowing her muffled squeaks. Since she opened her mouth more he knew it was something she was enjoying as much as he was.
“Sit on my lap,” he whispered. Awkwardly the healer moved forward. The substitute shingami repositioned her with his large hands cradling her hips. He turned her around so her bottom sat on his toned abdomen. Both her legs stuck out leaving his member brushing right against the fabric of her skirt.
“Kurosaki-kun, are you upset?” she asked.
“Hell no. But you shouldn’t do all the work. Cause now I gotta help you out,” Ichigo grumbled, pulling up the fabric of her skirt. She yelped at the feel of the hardness just against the damp crotch of her panties. To position himself just so Ichigo leaned back and half lay with his head and shoulders braced on the wall and his hips thrust forwards. He pulled her legs to half straddle him and she almost tipped forwards, bracing her hands on the ground.
She fell back against his back with a tug of his hand that brushed over her uniformed front. He positioned her just right so her crotch wrapped around his member and her face rested in the hollow of his shoulder. In this position she could look down and clench him with one hand while steadying herself with the other pressed against the ground.
“It… tickles…” she whimpered, rocking her hips. Up and down, squeezing with both hands while palming him. Ichigo fell into the rhythm. His large hands slid over her clothed breasts in time to his upward thrusts.
“So good,” Ichigo got out, thrusting up so his shaft brushed her soft underwear. "I'm gonna... Come... So keep that up and squeeze it as tight as you can."
Grabbing her chin he yanked her face over then devoured her lips. Under her she felt Ichigo tense after she pinched his shaft in both her hands. His knees lifted, tongue jammed into her mouth so she eagerly sucked on it. Reflexively her legs closed in around her hands constricting his penis further. Inside his brain white hot pleasure combusted along his spine preceding a warm wave. Inoue swallowed his snarl simultaneously to wondering what the fluid was suddenly spurting up over both hands. Both disengaged the kiss for huge gulps of air.
Between her hands and legs clamping Ichigo emitted an enormous sigh of pleasure. Gone were the cute wrinkles in his orange brows replaced by what the healer recognized as a blissful smile. Still his hands tickled her inner thighs before venturing along her crotch. Glowing with happiness for causing Ichigo’s happiness she crinkled into a giggling ball at those fingers pressing into her. One of his hands covered her mouth.
"Inoue... Shhh..." He hissed.
A second later his fingers tickled the cloth covering her womanhood. Grey eyes blinked up into his dilated brown ones. In a hoarse voice he murmured, "It's your turn now. Just let me take care of it."
"Kurosaki-kun... I'm fine... I'm just happy helping you. You don't have to go to such trouble..."
“It's only fair; now just let me do this before I lose my nerve," he whispered against her ear. Eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming tingles the healer bit off her cries. Ichigo’s strong firm fingers danced over places he read about in his dad's medical books. His other hand alternated tugging onto her right and left nipples till she doubled over, legs clamping his hand hard. The substitute shingami angled his mouth over hers firmly silencing her pleasured shout. Since she still held his member Ichigo felt it twitch against her hands.
"Wha.... Kurosaki... kun..." she panted, sprawled on his lap. Ichigo smirked and stole a kiss.
"I did it. You ok Inoue?" he asked in a gravelly tone, concern on his face. "Sorry for making a mess.”
“Kurosaki-kun, that felt better than red bean paste and honey mustard with cabbage on peaches!" she cooed happily. Orange hair plastered to his face with sweat the shinigami substitute wrapped possessive and protective arms around her so neither of them would run in worry they'd embarrassed the other.
But the loss of her hand made him yelp in protest.
“Inoue what are you doing?” he gasped seeing her kneel up and tug the crotch aside.
“I want to help you more Kurosaki-kun… you look so uncomfortable like that and I…” she stammered, moving herself just over his tip.
“Inoue stop, you don’t have to!” Ichigo protested, grabbing her hips to stop her but his tip brushed the outside of something moist and wet. Orihime grasped his base awkwardly before pushing it into herself. He heard her whimper of displeasure as a hot clasp surrounded him partly.
Her soft voice plaintively pleaded, “Kurosaki-kun… please…”
“Inoue stop it… if you’re going to do that we need… protection…” Ichigo stammered, pulling her off. He saw her eyes filling with tears.
“You don’t want me?” she swallowed, pulling back and crouching next to him. His hand squeezed hers tightly.
“No, It’s not that, I just… if we take this step we need one of those… a… a rubber ok?” Ichigo gritted. “I… I have one in my wallet.”
Faced with her confused look he said,” My stupid dad slipped it to me as a joke…”
That smile crossing her face undid the knot tied in his guts. Ichigo’s now bright red face looked up at her in concern. She extracted his wallet from his front pants pocket noting how it was secured with that long chain on his belt. Her white teeth bit down to help her tear open the yellow package, adding to the twitching sensation he felt below. Harder still his member jutted up to full mast. Once he slid it into place he saw her bottom briefly peeking under the cloth of her grey skirt as she spun around.
“You can face me you know…” he urged.
“I heard this was the best way for both,” The healer said as she scooted backwards on her hands and her knees towards him.
“Damn it, was that Rangiku san’s idea? I’m going to wring her neck!” snapped Ichigo.
“It was…” confessed Inoue, straddling him. He coughed hold of her hips but then spun her around to face him.
“I want to see you,” Ichigo griped, guiding her down. “Then we can try it that way.”
“Owww…” Orihime yelped.
“Do it slower… don’t hurt yourself!” Ichigo cautioned, slowly pulling her down. She saw the wrinkle between his brows and giggled awkwardly.
“It only hurts a little bit, Kurosaki-kun…” she insisted.
“Bull,” Ichigo snorted, holding her completely still on his lap so she couldn’t move. It was a pocket of heaven inside her, yet the desire to protect her overrode his own needs. But he let out a low groan all the same. “Ahhhhhh…”
“Kurosaki-kun,” she whimpered. Despite this Ichigo saw the discomfort on her face and gently pulled himself out once more. At once Orihime leapt off his lap, curling away from him. He saw the gleam of tears in her eyes.
“I… I’m fine… I… guess… I was too small for you,” The healer half laughed, but he heard her voice wavering. The young healer swallowed hard, feeling flushed and embarrassed, as well as rejected. Before she could stand up and dust herself off she felt his hand clamping on her arm.
“Inoue, wait damn it, I don’t want you to leave,” Ichigo blurted out, tugging her towards him. She crashed across his lap clumsily, pressing his hard member between them. He hissed, positioning it between her legs.
“Inoue I don’t want it to be painful for you. I want us BOTH to enjoy it,” Ichigo said gently as he pulled her towards him. “C’mere, just sit down ok?”
“But we didn’t fit,” Orihime murmured, not looking up as she forced a smile to her face. The substitute shingami sighed and turned her around so she straddled his lap, placing his member between them in that delicious pocket of her thighs.
"It feels just fine here," he tried to reassure her.
"Isn't there a way you could put it in and I'll get used to it?" the healer asked. The substitute shingami swooned in further embarrassment, despite the fact that they had already been intimate pleasuring each other.
“I… uh… well we could um… stretch. It’s made of muscle down there,” Ichigo said in a tiny voice, his face beet red.
“You mean like a pair of socks? You’re so SMART Kurosaki-kun,” The healer gasped in surprise. Cupping her chin, Ichigo pulled her into a clumsy kiss. His fingers slid gently into her core, feeling the moist wetness. Mentally he cursed himself for crushing her feelings like this. Her small hands wrapped around him, rubbing, squeezing and pulling just like before.
Breaking the kiss Ichigo gasped,” Yeah… lets’… just… Ahhh… play…”
Orihime’s small fingers pumped up and down. “Kurosaki-kun, ” she whispered, lips near his.
He caught her in another frantic kiss, thrusting and scissoring his fingers. She whimpering into his mouth at the same time he groaned into hers. Thrusting up he couldn’t stop the muscles from tensing and then the explosion of white hot heat. No, not now! It was too soon!
Determined to at least please her again Ichigo twisted, tweaked and brushed his fingers over that small place he could feel, tingling inside as his blood rushed and his breath hissed through his nostrils. He devoured her mouth till he heard a muffled squeal and her muscles clenching hard on his middle and index finger. Her teeth bit down HARD on his tongue and he jolted with pain, the iron taste of blood mingling with her flavor.
“Owww!” Ichigo yelped as they parted for breath.
“Oh no, Kurosaki-kun I’m so sorry!” she stammered.
“It… it’s ok, forget it,” Ichigo mumbled, his arms tightening around her. Orange locks of hair hid his eyes in shade. How could he have come so soon? At least she had reached a climax he figured. Not to mention he felt the stains on his pants were only going to make things worse.
“Kurosaki-kun, I’m sorry I didn’t’ fix your zipper,” she whispered as Ichigo pulled her overtop his lap.
“S’ok,” Ichigo murmured, catching his breath and enjoying how good she felt there. Again he felt himself twitching. Damn it, of all the times. Just then the bell for classes rang, startling the two out of their awkward yet satisfied first experience.
“Oh no, lunch is over!” yelped Orihime leaping off his lap. She saw Ichigo trying to get up, and cursing under his breath huddled over. His belt clicked into place but his hands covered his groin.
“Uh… Inoue… could I ask you another favor?” Ichigo asked, groaning as he pointed to the stains on his pants and the zipper that he still couldn’t get all the way up. “Could you uh… walk in front of me till I can get a change of pants?”
“Oh, I know,” The healer said brightly as she pulled off her sweater. Ichigo’s eyes widened to see her huge breasts bouncing a bit once they were loose from the tight sweater, encased in that shirt buttoned tightly over them.
“Watch it!” Ichigo yelped, dancing around to hide anyone’s view in case those buttons popped off.
She then tied it around his waist in front. “Here!"
Grumbling the substitute shinigami took her hand and walked her back to class with a hard on yet again. His fingers interlaced with Orihime’s possessively, casting dirty looks at the envious guys and girls. When it came to the gentle healer catching him out, he didn’t mind at all.