Inui, my Inui
It's still June 3 here, so Happy Birthday, Inui!
eta: It was hard to decide whether "Inui" should scan as two or three syllables in English, but I fixed on two in the end.
Inui the Spy: A Story in Rhyme (and Dubious Taste)
Inui was a data man. He liked to write things down.
He peered and peeped and spied on people all around the town.
One day as he was rushing home, his notebook for to mark,
He came on Kaidoh Kaoru who was training in the park.
Inui stopped behind a tree and settled in to stare
At Kaidoh doing racquet swings. And lo! his chest was bare.
There were data here to take, statistics to record.
But Inui jotted not a word; his notebook fell, ignored.
The graceful arm, the perfect form, the rhythm of each pass,
The healthy glow of sun-warmed skin, the hot tight little ass--
Evicting facts and figures, these enchantments did intrude.
Now Inui thought in poetry, and some of it was lewd.
His face was hot, his palms were damp, his ribcage rose and fell.
And certain other bits of him were acting up as well.
To run into the open, to take Kaidoh in his arms,
To kiss and stroke and fondle him, to drink up all his charms,
To have him there upon the grass was Inui's great desire.
So long as Kaidoh's ravishment did not somehow backfire...
So Inui stayed to calculate the chances of success
Instead of rushing boldly in, his loved one to caress.
And while he worked percentages inside his fevered brain,
Into the pretty training scene, there came another swain.
'Twas Momoshiro Takeshi, whom Kaidoh did despise.
And Inui sighed about the fight that surely must arise.
Now Kaidoh dropped his racquet, hissing Momoshiro's name.
He grappled him about the chest and Momo did the same.
Then Inui's heart imploded and his brain came all unstrung.
The two of them were kissing! (Inui thought he saw some tongue.)
They groped and clutched and rolled around and sucked each other's face.
While Inui thought he'd cry at Momoshiro in his place.
But as he stared the longer, Inui's grief began to fade.
Instead, appreciation of the spectacle they made
Brought back those warm sensations that first Kaidoh had inspired.
And Inui's blood began to heat, his appetite was fired.
They touched, they moaned, and Inui bit his lip as things progressed.
Then Kaidoh pulled up Momo's shirt and sucked on Momo's chest.
Momo rolled him over and they bucked and humped with vim.
Inui's heart was pounding and his head began to swim.
Momo lost it first, with flailing arms and noise to spare.
Then Kaidoh's face got twisted up, he jerked and sucked in air.
They lay there for a moment, loose and limp and breathing fast.
With Inui almost dizzy from the show that had just passed.
Quick strokes relieved the pressure that was straining at his crotch.
And Inui learned his lesson: it was just as good to watch.
(And when he'd got back home again, the sunset growing dim,
Inui rang up Tezuka and told it all to him.)
eta: It was hard to decide whether "Inui" should scan as two or three syllables in English, but I fixed on two in the end.
Inui the Spy: A Story in Rhyme (and Dubious Taste)
Inui was a data man. He liked to write things down.
He peered and peeped and spied on people all around the town.
One day as he was rushing home, his notebook for to mark,
He came on Kaidoh Kaoru who was training in the park.
Inui stopped behind a tree and settled in to stare
At Kaidoh doing racquet swings. And lo! his chest was bare.
There were data here to take, statistics to record.
But Inui jotted not a word; his notebook fell, ignored.
The graceful arm, the perfect form, the rhythm of each pass,
The healthy glow of sun-warmed skin, the hot tight little ass--
Evicting facts and figures, these enchantments did intrude.
Now Inui thought in poetry, and some of it was lewd.
His face was hot, his palms were damp, his ribcage rose and fell.
And certain other bits of him were acting up as well.
To run into the open, to take Kaidoh in his arms,
To kiss and stroke and fondle him, to drink up all his charms,
To have him there upon the grass was Inui's great desire.
So long as Kaidoh's ravishment did not somehow backfire...
So Inui stayed to calculate the chances of success
Instead of rushing boldly in, his loved one to caress.
And while he worked percentages inside his fevered brain,
Into the pretty training scene, there came another swain.
'Twas Momoshiro Takeshi, whom Kaidoh did despise.
And Inui sighed about the fight that surely must arise.
Now Kaidoh dropped his racquet, hissing Momoshiro's name.
He grappled him about the chest and Momo did the same.
Then Inui's heart imploded and his brain came all unstrung.
The two of them were kissing! (Inui thought he saw some tongue.)
They groped and clutched and rolled around and sucked each other's face.
While Inui thought he'd cry at Momoshiro in his place.
But as he stared the longer, Inui's grief began to fade.
Instead, appreciation of the spectacle they made
Brought back those warm sensations that first Kaidoh had inspired.
And Inui's blood began to heat, his appetite was fired.
They touched, they moaned, and Inui bit his lip as things progressed.
Then Kaidoh pulled up Momo's shirt and sucked on Momo's chest.
Momo rolled him over and they bucked and humped with vim.
Inui's heart was pounding and his head began to swim.
Momo lost it first, with flailing arms and noise to spare.
Then Kaidoh's face got twisted up, he jerked and sucked in air.
They lay there for a moment, loose and limp and breathing fast.
With Inui almost dizzy from the show that had just passed.
Quick strokes relieved the pressure that was straining at his crotch.
And Inui learned his lesson: it was just as good to watch.
(And when he'd got back home again, the sunset growing dim,
Inui rang up Tezuka and told it all to him.)