Detailsà I could have
added more details concerning the rest of the Hokage team, to make it nice,
long and sweetà but
hey, this is a lemon! Let's get to the juicy bits! Who wants to read an epic?!
This is also dedicated to Snow, whoever you are. Because, oh my god. I was surprised someone mentioned the bridesmaids thingie. I really didn't think ANYone would find it or if they found it, if they would even bother to mention it. So you shocked me there, Snow , and I hope you like this short take. It's a lemon however. Hope you don't mind too much, but what you requested of Tokiya's reaction, it's there.
Soon to be Mrs. Gashakura sucked her stomach in as the dressmaker tucked pins around the waistline of her bridal gown. The gown reached past her ankles, the white color was the tint of a freshwater cultured pearl, and the sleeves and v-cut around the neck were anything but daring. Everything was going smoothly.
So why did she look so harassed? Her hair stuck out from the sides, her face was flushed, and her movements were jittery.
" PLEASE stop moving, ma'm. I assure you, your butt doesn't look fat, the gown WILL be ready on time, and no, we are NOT poking you with the pins intentionally. Although it is VERY tempting, we are not ".
" I knowà it's just that Ià oh! Gashey! You're here! "
She immediately stepped down the dress stand and ran to her fiancTe.
" Tell me honestly, Gashey. Does this make me look-? "
" No ".
" How about this-? "
" It's fine ".
" The color is justà? "
" Yes. You look perfect, dear ". He smiled and patted her hand.
" Hi " went the voice behind Gashakura.
" I bumped into them going in here ".
" Oh! Fuuko ! You're with Yanagi and Ganko! Have you come to get your dresses fitted? Where are the guys? "
" Neh, we didn't bring `em. They'd get bored. "
" Ah! Yes! Kondo is ready? "
Ganko nodded " Uh-huh! You're really making him the ringbearer? "
" Of course! Please, follow me ". The bride-to-be ushered them into a dressing room nearby.
Yanagi loved the bridal shops. She would pass by it occasionally, and would take every opportunity to stay as long as possible, admiring the accessories and the mannequins displaying the latest gowns. She sighed dreamily, imaging herself, with Recca walking down the aisle into the happiest moment of their entire lives-
" Ey YaNaaaagiiii! Earth to Yanagi. Yanagi! "
" Huh? Yes? What is it, Fuuko? "
`Pop' went her daydream balloon.
" I was asking what time we should meet for the prom. We're meeting at the entrance, right? "
" Yes, around 7:00à "
" Okay. I've already got my dress, " she held up the large paper bag with the dressmaker's logo for Yanagi to see " And Ganko and Kondo are done. You ready to leave? "
" Yes, I'm ready ".
Fuuko carried the bag over her shoulder. " I kinda like the theme of the prom this year. Saves me on having to buy a separate dress. Although, some would argue that it's a pretty stupid theme ".
" I like it as well ", Yanagi blushed. " The idea of incorporating a wedding into a promà "
" Yeahà but I betcha a lot of guys are scared. "
Yanagi nodded her agreement.
The school's prom committee
had unanimously declared that the for the junior-senior prom, the theme
would be a wedding. Gashakura's bride was a highly respected and loved
teacher. Rather than let the couple spend money for it, the student council
had decided to use their funds for an elaborate wedding, since it had turned
the couple's appointed date was not so far away from the prom's. But the amount of people had to be controlled. Only people with invitations would be allowed inside. Both Gashakura and his fiancee did not have that many friends, or living family members, and the hotel's function room would be able to accommodate at least 200 people.
However, only one woman would be married on that day, and only one would wear a bride's gown.
" So I'll see you then ? " Yanagi proceeded to go the other direction, to her house, leaving Fuuko to drop Ganko at their home.
" Tell dad I'm at Tokiya's, okay Ganko? Eat dinner ahead if I'm not yet home on time, all right? "
" Yup! Buh-bye! " Ganko made Kondo wave bye-bye too. Fuuko waved back and began her pilgrimage to Mikagami's place.
Another year had gone. Just like that.
This year would be his first time at the prom, and his last. Although he could have brought along Fuuko last year, none of the others could have attended, since they were still only sophomores. His doorbell rang, and he got up to open it.
She came inside.
" Looks like you're almost done packing. We'll probably be finished by tomorrow ".
" Yes". he answered.
" I brought dinner. You already packed your kitchen wares, right? " she went into the kitchen, setting the table with paper plates, and paper cups. Everything was disposable.
They sat down to eat, opposite each other. When they finished, they cleaned up.
" Is the scholarship you got, really big, Tokiya? "
" Only about 20% of applicants ever make ità "
" Show me the brochures again! " He obliged her by bringing out the pamphlets of the university's campus he was to enter into. He showed her the dormitory where he would stay. He pointed out the courses he was to take, and of the available facilities.
The place was 3,000 miles away from her.
She put the pamphlets away.
"Your flight is two days from now. "
He echoed her words. " Two days ".
" So I guess for next year's prom, you won't be here."
" No, I won't. "
" Well it looks like I'll have to go find another date for next year! "
He bristled at the remark.
" Kidding! Only kidding! I'll go stag! " She smiled and placed her arms around his neck in an assurance that she had meant it.
For the past week, Fuuko had spent most of her time with Tokiya- mostly because he had announced his departure that would take place soon after school ended, and partly because she had to copy his walking.
She didn't really know how to walk right. In pantsà even in her school uniformed skirt, she had always walked more or less like a boy. She asked Yanagi for advice, and Yanagi had thought for awhile, and said " You've seen how Tokiya walks. Copy it! " . So Fuuko did.
Whenever Mikagami entered a room, to walk in was unspeakable. He SAUNTERED in, with a confidence that made every girl swoon and every guy pout at him. His hips would move in a lazy swagger, and his legs would propel him forward in a sashay.
She wanted to walk like that. For one day,- night,whatever,- she would get rid of her usual tomboy walk, and try to look she could actually get away with wearing something formal. In her high heeled shoes, she practiced, tripping every so often, and cursing the effort she had to go through.
A wedding at a prom. All the males with girlfriends would go ` erm, ah, uh? `, using their wide knowledge in eloquence to change the subject as their girlfriends sighed and made not- so-subtle hints. Fuuko didn't even want to think about getting hitched. She considered herself too young and too practical.
Tonight was the night of
this occasionà she hoped all her hard work would pay off. Her father
had already left early with Ganko, leaving her alone in the house to wait
for her escort. At exactly 6:30 p.m. she opened the door, not waiting for
the ringing bell, because knowing Tokiya for almost two years, he would
be on time but would
hesitate shortly at the door, because he would usually calculate every action he did.
She saw him standing outside, about to ring the doorbell.
" Hey. Punctual as ever! " She couldn't help but beam widely, and her heart hammered in eager anticipation of his reaction.
She was to be disappointed. His eyes had narrowed almost immediately and he frowned sourly at seeing her in the outfit.
The bridesmaid's dress was a one-piece miniskirt made of expensive lavender satin. Already long legs were accented by the heels, but her arms were covered by a matching, short jacket. The slope of her breasts had been emphasized by the low, straight cut across her more than ample cleavage, and the material was skintight and stretched around her body, showing off every damn one of her curves. The thick straps of her ensemble tied around the back of her neck in a seductive suggestion of where a man's arms were supposed to go. When she had moved to greet him, the skirt rode up full hips. Every time she breathed, he could see her chest bounce.
He did not like it. Not one bit.
Her face fell, just as her self esteem dropped, and she bit her lip to keep from showing a break in her voice.
" You don't like it."
" I happen to love it, " was the quick and rather dour reply " But so will others. And THAT I will not like ".
She blushed at his underhanded compliment, and blushed an even darker shade of pink when he had pinned the corsage on her jacket, and stepped back to admire the view. The colors he saw could only be said of to be radiant. Her healthy peach skin glowed; The lavender dress, dark purple-red hair, pink blush and wild orchid corsage- all were, to his eyes, a picturesque fixation. It was a long time before he spoke again.
" Do you see how beautiful you can be? "
The blush had spread from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Beautiful?! No one ever referred to that word, in even a vague ssociation with her name. Her father had never said it, and Recca and Domon well, they were who they were. To actually hear him.
" You really know how to butter up a girl, don't you, Tokiya? "
With a small, reassured laugh that he had insinuated his approval, she locked the door before they made their way to meet the others.
At around 8:30 p.m., the reception began. The wedding vows had been exchanged, and the groom kissing the bride had been photographed. Now, grub is gonna be served and soon the wedding cake would be sliced.
The past hour had truly been unforgettable. The prom is where pretty girls look prettier, but they were still not as impressive as the usually plain looking girls from school that had been transformed into a rare beauty.
Kanojo wore a long spaghetti
strapped dress of powder blue, and her above shoulder length blue hair
was pulled neatly to the side by a flowered barrette. Yanagi wore a pink
and grey gown, of an elegant simplicity. There were sequined designs at
the sides. Her own hair was tied up into the latest trend in prom hairstyles.
One wore a pink
carnation corsage around the wrist, while the other had a yellow one.
Recca and Domon in tuxedos! Recca didn't look like his scruffy self and Domon had actually looked like he possessed half a brain. She was pretty sure they had been surprised to see her. The minute she came into the hallway to meet them, their eyes widened, they pointed at her, and would have rolled on the floor, doubling over in laughter.
" You're wearing your fuujin! "
Recca tapped the bulge on her right arm.
" So? You're wearing your bracer, " she tapped his own arm " Tokiya's probably got his ensui somewhere, and Domon has his nose ring in his pocket. We all have the same fashion statement ".
The three childhood friends exchanged a grin. There is no description to the feeling a person gets, at seeing a childhood friend suddenly grown up and somehow different, and somehow still the same.
" You actually look like a girl! " Fuuko punched Recca's face in.
" I AM a girl, stupid ! "
" I'm sorry we have to leave so soon ".
After dessert, before the throwing of the bouquet, they had left. Tokiya had a flight to catch at noon tomorrow. He would need to get up early in order to ensure all his belongings would be transported correctly. They had congratulated the couple, said goodbyes to their friends for the night. The Hokage Team would see him off tomorrow.
" No biggie. We at least got to eat! This thing is getting pretty uncomfortable, anyway ".
" Too bad. " he stated his opinion with genuine grief.
" Hm. `course, I could be persuaded to endure this for a longer period- "
She stopped in mid-walk, and searched frantically inside her small purse again.
" Something the matter? "
She turned to him, embarrassed.
" I I left my key inside the house! What am I going to do??? Ganko and dad are still there, and I'm going to have to make them come home early. "
" You can stay over at my place. Call your house so they won't be worried. "
" Yeah I'm real sorry for this, Tokiya! I must have forgotten it before leaving!
" It's fine ".
Other couples soon joined the dancing initiated by Gashakura and his wife. Ganko tugged at Kaoru's arm.
" C'mon brother Kaoru! Let's dance! "
" I don't want to! It's bad enough I had to come here, and now you want me to dance?? "
" But I'm all dressed for it! "
" Go with Kondo! I'm not your doll! "
Ganko's lower lip quivered violently, and her eyes watered.
" One dance! After that, no more! "
" Yay !! Kondo, brother Kaoru's going to dance with us! "
" WHAT?! "
" So nice of you to let me join! " Kondo suavely halted conversation with some teenagers who found him ` so kawaii ` and straightened his specially made tuxedo.
They danced in a circle to the music, like little kids do to a nursery rhyme. Kaoru counted the agonizing seconds that ticked by; grumbling. His tuxedo was too stiff and the soles of the rubber shoes he insisted on wearing, made squeaky noises.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
" Mind if we cut in? "
Yanagi smiled, taking the younger boy's hand to lead him further onto the dance floor, and Recca picked Ganko up, to carry her and twirl her around.
" See how I have my key? See how I am able to open my door with it? "
" Yeah, yeah ". Fuuko stuck her tongue out at him.
He came in first, and she left her shoes respectfully, near the door once inside. He did the same. He hung his black tuxedo on the wall, and offered to hang her jacket.
" You don't want to take it off? It's quite hot. "
" No, thanks ".
He wondered at her sudden discomfort. She was never one to be particularly modest. It began to occur to him, that for the entire evening, she had never taken it off. He shrugged. He was probably making a big deal out of nothing.
While he busily prepared her beddings and his room where she was to sleep, Fuuko entered.
" Dad and Ganko aren't home yet. I left a message on the answering machine ".
" All right ".
" Right now, dad's probably dancing boogieing to , I duuno, Mambo Number 5? "
" I'm sure that he is."
" And Kondo's probably hamming it up, liking all the attention ! "
" Yes. "
" Hope they're having fun! "
He expressed his conformity with a fond smile, and clicked open the lamp.
The university's acceptance letter was under the light where they could stare at it. An abrupt change in the cheerful atmosphere came.
She fluffed a pillow, to keep herself from looking at it, and swallowed, to clear her suddenly dry throat. The crashing force of reality setting in, and of the fleeing optimism had made her look away.
" What's wrong? "
She had caught him staring at the pillow, and after a pause, he admitted his thoughts.
" First kiss during winter "
She hugged the pillow that held his distinct smell of elderberry musk, while he continued to whisper. The stillness and silence would be enhanced by his words. His eyes gestured his musings in a saddened fascination.
" In this room on this bed."
She could not look up at him, even when he had discontinued to speak momentarily.
" I only have a t-shirt you can use for sleeping. Will that be big enough? "
" Should be! ", she said, regaining her good humor. " I'll go with you to the airport. We should leave about two hours before your flight. "
He nodded. " I'll be on the couch if you need anything ".
Fuuko sighed, frustrated at her own absent-mindedness.
" Geez, I'm so sorry. It's your last night here, and you can't even sleep in your own Bed, one last night.
She still held the pillow, and clutched at it little nervously.
" No good night kiss? "
Her smile was forced. He walked back, and gripped her upper arms to kiss her better, lingering on the contact he knew he would long for, at the times he would feel all alone in a strange new life.
She disregarded the physical
pain in her chest caused by the thought that this would have to end, and
focused on remembering the other sensation instead- Her flesh prickling
at the rising temperature of her blood, triggered by the quick heat, and
of the doubled rate in the palpitation of her heart. The comforting hold
on her upper arm
" Good night, Fuuko ".
"'Night, thanks for letting me crash here."
The door was quietly shut, and the pillow was put back in place. Her legs mechanically walked to the bedside table.
The letter remained under the lamp's light.
Slowly, the letter was crisply
refolded, and neatly placed back inside the envelope. She flattened the
creases. The white shirt she was to use for sleeping, was put at a nearby
chair. Her fingers took off her dangling earrings, one by one. She removed
the ring, the chained necklace hanging closely by her throat. Her bracelet
taken off. The pile of jewelry was placed near the envelope.
For several minutes, she stared.
No sound reached her ears, and her vision only saw the white packet containing the separator between herself and him.
All logic indicated that there WERE such things as holidays when he could visit but the adjustment would be so hard.
She closed her eyes, tried to calm down her breathing. The envelope was still there. She looked at it, balefully; it did not go away. She averted her gaze, and stared up at the ceiling.
At the back of her mind, every memory had flashed with a vivid clarity-all intimate remembrances of light-hearted instances shared embarrassing scenes the short time spent at their first prom the good night kiss that made her head spin, and made every fiber of her being, pulsate.
After tonight, she would never feel his lips again, and he would never be able touch her.
Her heart had begun to pick up in pace again.
She needed to shut her eyes, to regain some sort of thinking.
Her chest heaved so rapidly and she opened her mouth to take in more oxygen.
She divulged in the feeling. Once the blood had simmered down a little, once she took a deep breath; in steadfast strides filled with a resolution, she walked to the front of the door.
She had come to a decision. There would have no turning back.
She had gripped the door handle, just as she heard a single, faint, weak knock.
The moment she had opened
the door and seen him standing before her the moment she had appeared so
promptly at his knock; the moment he too, had come into the decision they
had reached an unspoken
But as the gentleman, he would have to ask.
He leaned against the doorway,
kept his distance away from her, made no attempt to touch her. He did not
want her to be pressured or caught in the passion of it all. Only his shadow
disobeyed him, stretching on top her face, surrounding her. Solemn eyes
of ice blue captured those of dark cobalt mist. His words were chosen carefully,
enunciated so slowly it could easily have been mistaken for a plea.
" Let me make love to you. "
She lowered her eyes to the floor, at his candor, gathering the jacket around her. " You might not like what you see "
" Then I thank you for the warning ". He did not advance, did not step back either, but waited. It was apparent that he did not believe her.
Her want was just as powerful as his, but she had to express the apprehension, in all honesty of their relationship. Fear had gripped her heart. The lump in the pit of her stomach had become heavier. She closed her eyes, reopened them to meet his gaze unflinchingly.
" I'm scared "
He remained somber, finally lowering his face in level with her own. " Shall I let you in on a little secret? "
He smiled at her then. " So am I. "
The boy that always looked so precariously adult, had looked his age when he smiled.
A relieved smile. An amused smile, because what she had said had taken so much courage, he had felt a swell of pride of seeing her overcome the obstacle with unwavering defiance.
She could see the strength in his own confession. She could see the innocence as well.
They were old enough to know the basics. In this day and age, mostly everyone else had done it already anyway. But details and experience were out of their league.
They would be two adventurers
this night, embarking on an extraordinary journey. They would be two awkward
students, trying to learn lessons from one another, using practice and
common sense, to fully understand the correct skills that would be gotten
to, with time. But, they possessed certain advantages unlike others- quick
learning abilities for the clumsiness to soon give way to a refined art, an endurance from being constantly in shape, and the knowledge of pressure points, being competent hand-to-hand fighters.
She let him in.
She had let him in a long time ago.
He walked past her, to put his ensui beside her jewelry. The tie around his ponytail was taken and shaken loose, but he had already decided to let down more than just his hair. She locked the door, and flicked the lights off, letting the bedside lamp suffice as the only source of lighting. The blanket was drawn away, like a curtain is to reveal the bright rays of the sun.
He turned around to face her, a smirk fast forming.
" Are you to take your clothes off? Or should I? "
" I'm supposed to be the funny one here, remember, Tokiya? "
Fuuko moved to stand in front of him, as he removed the clasp of his black bow tie, dropping it at the table. She rolled her right jacket sleeves up, to deposit her Fuujin, before rolling it back in place.
During last year's math tutorials A similar closeness in proximity to this had been felt the first time. He supposed they would have to persist in their education. But at a completely different aspect. His tongue would be brought into the equation, his touch as the fractional numerator; clothing would be subtracted in a one to one ratio, and he would sample every square inch of her body. Anything otherwise, would have to be deemed as an extracurricular activity.
He followed the outline of her cheek to her jaw languorously,before tilting her chin upwards on a crooked finger. Their initial kiss was no more than a light convergence, a wimpy linkage of their lips.
Their second was an improvement. She had opened his mouth with her own, and he tasted the sanctity of virgin breath.
The third burned hotter than
Recca's flame. It was this that would be
his fierce obsession.
Two hands were placed, at each side of her cheek, to keep her near. He would catch her mouth, again and again, and make the next kiss longer, stronger, bolder, he would try to outdo the previous contender. He would not allow her time to catch her breath, not allow her to gather her wits; for every vital retreat for air had made him ache. Even the fleeting loss of her lips was too bitter.
Nimble fingers artlessly popped the first button then two he caught her wrists with a hand, to prevent her from going any further. The other free hand trembled between her jacket and passed the smooth skin of her breasts, finding nothing less than perfect. She moved backwards, away from his reach, and he found it all so unfair.
She began taking the satin garment off herself.
The speed was much to slow for his preference. It seemed an eternity for her to progress. In three steps, he would have ripped the clothing off her shoulders, slithered a hand under her skirt to raise it above her hips and pulled down the sheer stockings to take her.
The impatient carnal desire had surprised him; horrified him. To have those thoughts of her!
He kept his emotions in check. There should be no rush. They had one night. One full night, and he was to enjoy her thoroughly. He would not permit himself to ruin their last chance together.
He would have to satisfy himself for the meantime, with watching the short trimmed jacket expose the shoulders he would be tending to, and the arms he would be inclined to kiss. In a hypnotic daze, he watched her; mesmerized by the way the colors seemed to come out, of more of her skin being uncovered.
His patience had paid off.
The jacket fell to the floor in an expectant heap. He inwardly reveled
in the fact that the
discontentment of merely watching would no longer be a concern. This sight was what many had missed a few hours ago, and he was the only one who had the exclusive privilege to see it.
Her fears had been completely unfounded. There was no fault in her body, nothing that could have possibly repulsed himàuntil she turned her back to him, and he could see the reason why she had been so inhibited.
The thin criss-cross straps of the dress at her back would have left horizontal scars to be seen.
" Yanagi was too tired already it would have taken at least overnight for it to heal completely. As soon as the wound closed, I told her to go to sleep. She would have spent more energy than actually necessary"
The scars were made, by an electrical fence.
He followed the scars with two fingers, airily glided the horizontals. She twitched further, but another hand would firmly hold her. A gentle grip was enforced, to prevent her from lurching forward and destroying his eager campaign. He brought his head down to kiss the back of her neck, while she tilted her head for him, and he could feel the resonance of her pulse race beneath his lips. He brought her closer to his chest to embrace her, kissing behind the soft cartilage of her ear.
What words could he have used to ease away her silly notions? His mind would delve into all the possibilities, even as he would grope blindly for the zipper located at the side of her body. She would guide his hand; together they tugged it down.
She remained like the good little soldier, standing still long enough for him to reach under her skirt, and run a hand along a smooth thigh, to help her strip off the stockings. No inspiration came for him on how to tell her to relax, even if, by the goodwill of the open zipper, she had let him do the honor of undressing her.
Save for one. One coherent word in a jumble of anxiety.
" Bed "
He repeated it again, when she did not move, murmuring it against the rich taste of her glazed caramel skin.
His wish was complied. He seated her in front of him, not yet done with his exploits. In at least her underwear, he would be able to feel the battle scars better, convince her it was of very little consequence to him. If it was a consequence at all...This had made him love her all the more.
During the fight with Gashakura only now he realized the depth of unwillingly wanting her back then. He had seen her fight, had seen her give all, and he had seen it to be a lost cause. But she had not backed downà His respect for her had risen, seeing the determination and bravery the flurry of thoughts had tumbled involuntarily into his head, tried as he might to stop it-- My god, what pride. What stubborn pride worthy of any man's affection!
The past thoughts faded away into a tiny recess of his mind. He dedicated himself presently to applying different pressures of kisses on the lines. He could not have done anything to help her then, but now.
An idle kiss was placed here, an insistent one there. She would straighten her back, to guarantee he would get the maximum amount of her skin. He traced the scars with his fingers, traced with his mouth proceeded to be brash, and traced with his tongue. Her inhalation of shock at the wet touch of his tongue had pleased him to a high degree. She swore she'd have to return the favor.
His parted lips wandered off the path of the scars - bored at having to follow only one direction - and trailed upwards her backbone. He would take the time to sniff the strawberries, pausing briefly to do so, nudging the delicate skin of her vertebrae.
At every cherished pause,
at every rare smile against the skin of her back, she could feel the mild
intake of his breath. He nibbled on her shoulders, tried sucking on her
flesh, but whatever done, was not enough. The hold around her waist was
restored, to lasciviously skim the slender surface of her belly. The same
hand would creep up. She made him squeeze the nipple that protruded from
her flimsy bra, before it moved on its own accord and reached under the
lock onto her breast. The twin of this hand would be just as insatiable. Already it had taken its cue, to excitedly reach down inside her underwear, and clutch the area between her thighs in frantic attempts to relieve her of the offending item.
He was frustrated at both failed efforts. He did not understand why she had blocked his whim, to turn to accuse him of being greedy. The heightened stimulation of blood taxed his waning restraint.
She undid his remaining buttons, ever so slowly; tucked his shirt out from black pants. With a hand underneath the cloth, extensively sweeping the muscles along his slim arms, the material was slid off his shoulders. Her pointer finger glided in a lethargic S- from the flat upper body that had procured him the title of `sexy boy', to stop just above his hips and tap a request.
He could see what she meant. He could always be such a thoughtless person sometimes. He unzipped his pants, while she removed his belt, jerking it away with a lively gusto. The pants had been flung; who knows where? A marvelously easy task.
" Happy? " she asked him mockingly.
He gave her no answer. She already knew the answer anyway.
Her hand snapped off her bra, deftly, but in a last, self-conscious act of defense, she folded her arms around her breasts, not allowing them to fully be released. She made no resistance, when he pushed her down, arms still crossed. Her short hair splayed around her, her bangs were tenderly brushed away for his personal exhibition.
From her face, down to her neck, he placed tantalizing kisses. He kissed the arms that crossed, and took a mouthful of her trim belly. He caressed her silhouette with his slender fingers, starting from the soft skin of her calf, following the curve to her knee, before resting his affections on her outer thighs, and coming back to kiss the space atop her bosom. Slowly he peeled away her arms, for him to see the treasures he coveted so badly.
On his elegantly boned hands, she had conceded. He met her eyes; gratified for the opportunity. He found her breasts much more than simply satisfying. His hands fitted and cupped so perfectly, as if their size were made especially for his purpose. He manipulated the texture of her warm flesh, his fingertips amorously swirled nipples that emerged to his touch; his palms felt the hard spheres before his tongue flickered over the core, and sucked.
She arched her back like
a pliable toy, letting out a tiny moan. He wrapped his arms around her
lithe body, palms curving the familiar territory of her spine. The contact
of his bare flesh, the hot breath against her naked skin, made the blood
pump wildly in her veins, and erase every eligible thought. She grabbed
his head, tangled fingers in his hair, pressed his mouth deeper and he
would withdraw, only to come back and lick the taut pink buds like a starved
boy given a
strawberry lollipop. He devoted himself entirely to this mission, operating like a crazed fanatic. She wriggled under him, at the unprepared reaction of her body. He made no effort to keep her in place. Feeling her twist and writhe in the oblivious submission to her body's responseàwas poetry in motion.
His hand scrambled down to the garter of her underwear, past yet unfamiliar hips, to toss the garment away from her ankles. She did likewise for him.
He studied and examined every patch of her body, like a doctor, while she played the all too willing patient. He would test her, take mental notes on sensitive areas for future reference, and indulge on a complete hands-on experience. He probed with his eyes, and with his lips. At this experimentation stage, there was no such thing as a mistake, and she would not be permitted to get a second opinion. To her, he provided the only remedy.
His mouth trickled past her eyelids to her chin; his face disappeared down her throat in a frenzy of kisses. His own incensed thrill was mirrored in her short breaths of ecstasy. He sank teeth lightly on her slim shoulder blades, where a small utterance escaped along with a shudder of pure bliss, at the pleasure of him biting into her.
While he concentrated on
her every facet, she would improvise her procedures. When he was active
on her neck, she would massage his ear. When his tongue had strayed off
road, down the deep valley of her breasts, she would comb a hand through
his hair, following the flow. The strands of hair on her hands sprang to
life at her touch, curling around her fingers, and tickling her skin. She
would create soothing spirals on his back and along the gyration of his
sinewy muscles, while he held her tightly to gently assail her body. Wherever
their hands would travel, curious gazes flittered, and
Across the broad plane of his shoulder, her hand gingerly rolled him over, and made him descend to the pillows. She placed her lips over his eyebrow that was raised in an unsaid question. Surely, it didn't matter which one of them would be on top? His blood already throbbed with the overdue abstinence. The need was beginning to be too great to refuse.
But he supported her endeavors. By doing so, her personality began to exude itself and earned him the sweetest form of torture.
She crawled between his legs, the frequent mischievous smile on her face, and he felt her entire weight on top of him, holding him down. Her tongue began to play with his ear, and taste the lower lobe, to lick a part of his neck and flutter down his jaw-line. She challenged his mouth, and seized all the maintenance on his remaining control.
She alternated light kisses with teasing nips, used her lower lip to stroke and rotate his upper one. Even before a random finger was coiled around her tongue, to warm him inch by inch; even before he could feel the back of her teeth, and the sweltering roof of her mouth, his brain had long overloaded at every sensation. He whispered her name hoarsely in an entranced prayer. He groaned like a dying man seeking release in death.
She took no heed of his cravings, and frolicked in her attentions on his body. Her lips darted across his finely toned torso dipped into the pool of his navel. Her breasts pressed and rubbed hard against the bare skin of his chest while she covered his face with rhythmic kisses. Frisky hands roamed up his inner thighs, deliberately missing the mark.
It was too maddeningly cruel of her!
He could not let her finish. The full length of his desire grazed into her stomach, and dug into her abdomen. His pelvis jumped toward her slender hips instinctively as he tried to spread her legs apart in desperation.
She realized his urgency; kissed him, a final time- a docile goodnight kiss.
And she laid down for him.
The first time he had seen her body, less than two years ago...
Was just a body.
àBut what he held in his hands this night.
What he catalogued and ingrained into memory, what he set his eyes upon.
What he entered was an exquisite gem.
Beneath the blankets, they
shivered with delight. He fused into her body, melted into her mold completely,
shaking out a
suppressed sigh. The smell and texture of her body close was addictively invigorating; his lean frame was sweaty with
Continually, he would lower himself on top of her and plunge deeply into the luxury of her hips as gently as he could. His shallow, ragged breathing ruffled her dampening hair. There was no need to hurt her, no need for a hurried valediction. He regretted it slightly that there was no other less painful way for them to consummate love, for she blinked at the uncommon wetness found in the corner of her eyes, and could not stifle a feeble whimper. He kissed every tear that fell down her cheeks, whether it be from happiness or otherwise.
She would ignore the pain, explore all possible pleasure at each repeated thrust. She would try to draw her knees to her chest, entwine her legs around his waist, to differ the angle and feel him within the walls of her womb. Various encouragements reached his ear, even though he could see she clung to the bed sheets so unyieldingly her knuckles turned white.
Her adamant hold was swiftly removed. He had unfurled her fingers out like a fan to press their palms together, interlocked their hands for the entire duration their bodies rejoiced in unity. His intent gaze stayed all the while with her eyes as the bed rocked quietly to their gradual motions.
Only until loathsome exhaustion had taken over, did he let go.
It was the most magnificent sight to wake up to.
A naked Fuuko Kirisawa beside him, peaceful and safe. Her arm draped around his shoulders, her scent lingered on the sheets, on the pillows, in his nostrils, and his eyes leaped across her splendid form.
It was a glorious existence.
His lips found her hair, as his hand caressed the strands. He observed the rise and fall of her chest by breathing, viewed the subtly long eyelashes that rested on her cheek while she slept.
If there had to be a name for their little love affair, was it to be called a whirlwind romance? If there were a movie ever to be made of this encounter, was it to be called ` Gone With the Wind `?
It was probably last night'sà eventà that had made him think the strangest things this morning.
He'd been a very bad boy.
" What time is it? "
He spoke his answer into her hair, breath commingling with her scent. His words were muffled.
" Much too soon for you to get up ".
" Don't you have a plane to catch?"
" What if I told you that it was all just an elaborate trick to get your sympathy, in order to get you in bed? "
" Hm. I'd say it worked then. " she smiled. Her face upturned to meet his. " And I'd say that you were a lousy liar ".
Only the sound of his hand
stroking the small of her back and squeezing her tighter to his chest to
take her closer in for
warmth. It had suddenly turned cold. He removed the strands of dark hair from her face, as she nestled close to her blue-eyed lover, nuzzling his neck. He planted a kiss upon her forehead, and watched her blossom and flourish at his touch.
" I do not wish to leave ".
" I know. But you should. "
The flight was still at noon.
There was still plenty of timeà to prepare a quick breakfast, to pack the remaining necessities, to shower together where they loved for a second round under the steaming gloss of his natural element.
And to say goodbye...
At the airport, the Hokage team stated their farewells. Handshakes, pats on the back, an almost group hug by Ganko, Kondo and Domon. a teary speech that had to be cut short.
A final brush of lips on his, a final sorrowful glance and an encouraging smile
Before he stepped forward into the fate, that had changed the last night of their lives.
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