Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of being in the Saddle ❯ Pool Duel: Feints and Openings ( Chapter 27 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]



She'd done every bit of the white of the swimsuit in oil, from the straps down to her navel.

Thanks to that, the suit clung to her like it was painted on. 


And oh it was. 

Kumo's loose top seams made it easy to press the suit into her cleavage. 

And oh she had.


As she walked towards me, steps heavy on the heel, grace absent, her oily tits jiggled like mad despite being covered.

Just like a Kumo special was supposed to when both oily and wet. 


At the time I enjoyed it like anyone should. Afterward, upon reflection I realized just how far she had gone and what it meant. 

Ranma had seen what the oil could do, and instead of being suspicious of it -and of me- she'd taken it as a way around my rules, and my restrictions on her.

Anything Goes.


And it was a calculated maneuver. She didn't just impulsively slather a handful onto her chest, oh no, she pulled the suit down, oiled up those magnificent breasts, and then carefully did the suit as well. 

Call it experience with this getup in action.


All to show me her tits, no, all to win.


Only it was my victory. I had convinced Ranma that this was what she wanted to do.


All I had to do, now, was make her admit it.


She stepped closer and closer, hips swaying, chest jiggling with each heel hitting the ground a bit harder than she needed to.

Each step had a brief pause, literally until her tits stopped moving under the swimsuit.


It took a while for her to get close to me, somehow I didn't mind.

She got within a few feet of me, just out of reach, before I finally dragged my gaze up.

Her face was flushed red with several things; alcohol, yes, but also embarrassment, arousal, and something else.



Her face was filled with the intoxication of the power she had over me. 

Intoxication in the hands of someone not prepared for it, in a body despised by its wielder.


Our eyes finally met.


"I'm wearing everything ya told me to." There was something in her voice, not smugness, something... huskier. 


She shrugged, hard.

Her eyes watched mine as they struggled to stay focused on her face.


"It's all right," she cooed. "Look all you want. I won't get mad."


She posed, arms behind her head, hips cocked slightly, Kumo's suit mapping every contour. 

God she was hot. Pure sex. 


I bought precious seconds of control by looking looking down in the bath water to feel for the glass and the slice of lemon. I was very glad that my erection, while very there, was prevented from tenting up thanks to a quick shift and pinch of the trunks.


I heard her chuckle, low and feminine, as I kept my gaze on the glass and not on her. It was a decisive blow for her. My peripheral vision and ears tracked her as she stepped into her side of the pool. At the sound of her settling into the water I looked up.


Only it was a trick, and again I found my voice failing me.


Ranma hadn't sat down, she had knelt instead. The water in the furo had not gone up to her neck, only her waist.

I saw her nipples crinkle and harden through the suit from the cold water lapping at her sides.


"Y'know what?" She asked rhetorically, "I think I like this. You lookin' at em'."


She finally broke eye contact long enough to reach for her drink. Disdaining the glass, she grabbed the jug and took a long pull from it. 

Drunk as she was, there was some spilling of the creamy white drink. Off her lips, down her chin, into the valley of her cleavage...


I was staring again, and she reveled in it.


After wiping her chin with the back of her hand, she put the jug down and started shuffling forward on her knees, water sluicing past her waist, breasts swaying in an almost hypnotic counter-motion.


"When there'sa fight, I forget about them, they don't matter." She shrugged again, her eyes watching mine follow the jiggle. "I've fought and whole crowds have gotten a good look at em' while I did, but it doesn't matter, I'm winning."


Not 'I was winning', but I am winning. Right now.

This was victory now, and Ranma Saotome never loses.


Her knees touched my feet. Foot rather. She glanced down, seeing even in the rippling water my unevenness, the stump. In response she shuffled forward again, her knee just touching the stump, her other knee just outside my own.


"So why not let ya look?" She gripped the side of the furo and leaned forward, breasts almost hitting my slightly drawn up knees. "After all, I owe ya."


After a minute, a long minute, with her breathing deliberately deeply, I managed to look her in the eyes. "Ranma, I-"


"Shhh..." she corrected with a finger wag. "I'm Girl, remember." Her gaze turning coy for a moment before venturing downwards. "Maybe these aren't enough?" 


Her wagging finger didn't quite touch her nipple through the translucent suit, her hand didn't actually heft one large breast, but she implied -and offered- so much with a single descending motion of her hand that a part of me, the professional who was normally nearly immune to anything in front of the camera, was impressed.


She rose, water pouring off her lower frame, then she spun around. "I know you enjoyed this bit." And she bent at the waist, pushing her ass towards my face. "You called attention to it."


The suit was very very snug, like it was painted on, and it was enough to take my breath away once more.

She started to shuffle towards me, legs splayed outside mine. Her ass almost close enough to grope. To breathe on.


And naturally with her being drunk, mistakes happened.


A slip, and leaning as she was, she tumbled onto my lap, water splashing everywhere. Her soft ass pressed into my groin, our two swimsuits the only thing from... things... touching.


After a moment, a long pressing moment, she looked over shoulder at my own startled face and burst out laughing, head thrown back and hand slapping the edge of the furo.


I know she could feel my erection, so why was she laughing? Why wasn't she freaking out?

In an effort to look at me, she shuffled over slightly, almost riding my thigh, and threw her arm around my neck. 


"Well," she chuckled. "At least now I know ya like what ya see." and wriggled a bit on my lap. "Was is good fer you too?" Then she continued laughing. Drunk and free.


Tension drained from me, the modest alcohol in my system expediting the process, and I couldn't help but join her in laughter. 


Finally, her chuckles died off and she went limp on top of me, arm still draped over my neck. I looked at her and found her eyes closed, her jaw slightly slack.

Had she passed out? 


My hands itched. Her oily tits were right there, all of her was. Victory was mine.




Or was it?


My paranoia gripped me. 

It always did when I went past the buzzed line with booze.


Why hadn't it hurt? 

Her falling on me, I barely felt it. 

The water didn't splash everywhere like it should, hell my books weren't even wet...

Her breathing, slow and even, but I'd taken footage of unconscious women before. Many times in fact, private shoots often had extreme fetishes to cover.

Was she breathing too evenly?


Was she faking it?


Paranoia wrestled with the urge grab and fondle, squeeze and knead, and it barely came out the winner.


And so I kept my hands still and waited. 

One minute became two, two became three, and I was just beginning to second guess myself for the ninth time (ninth guess?) when I felt her head slowly move, pigtail brushing my cheek.


"Why?" She whispered, voice sounding dreadfully sober. "I'm drunk, passed out, layin' right on top of ya, so why ain't ya copping a feel?"


Genma, you wily son of a bitch, Ranma was using your tactics. She even hinted at them with her boast about the pressure point she'd used. 

While I was trying to trick her, she was doing the same to me. 

Only sheer luck had my paranoia saved me.


"Happosai, Kuno, Hiroshi, Daisuke, they all grabbed a handful. The boys in my class, always tryin' ta see em' when we change for gym. Always the accidents, the water." Her voice sounded dull, resigned to this fact. "Even Mr. Tendo wants to, I see it in his eyes sometimes. And if I were to try this tactic with any of em', even Mr. Tendo, bet ya anything that their hands would be under my top in less n' a minute."


Not a bet I would ever take, I wanted to do just that this very instant.


"But not you, even though I know you are hard." The dullness was replaced with quiet yet intense curiosity. "So, tell me. Why?"


She really wanted to know. 

Why I wasn't like the rest of them. 

I had to be unique. 



"Because Ranma," I said quietly. "I decided that being your friend was worth more than you being in my hands." 

Unlike them all I didn't say. 

I didn't need to, those words floated in her mind without my help. 

"Not that you are making this easy for me." I felt compelled to add.


She rose, climbing off of me easily. Water streamed down her legs as she stood, her ass was eye level as she turned to face me, feet absolutely stable.


I made it a point to stare up at her face, or at least I tried to. Her tits were in the way from my prone position. She remedied that by squatting down on her toes, hovering above me. Her face, while slightly flushed, looked sober and alert as her eyes studied mine.


Thankfully, I have been told that I have an excellent stoic face.


Ranma studied my face intently, trying to pierce my lie.


Slowly she relaxed.


"You are." her eyes sparkled in wonder. "You really are." 


Her flush grew pronounced and I understood then and there how so many fell in love with the sometimes girl. 


Then her entire face turned red. Her pupils dilated rapidly. 


"Thas good." she slurred. "Cause I think the pressure point is wearing off..." 


This time she really did land on me like a sack of rice. 




This time I was damn thorough in making sure she really was unconscious this time. 


I checked her pulse while listening to her breath, I even peeled an eyelid back. 

Either she was trying a double bluff and her acting skills were even better with the first being a feint within a feint, or... 


I had won, for real this time. 


Still, my paranoia demanded caution.

So, I started with safe motions; draping her arms around my neck, her head in the crook of my shoulder and out of the water, one arm on the small of her back. 


Pressing her body against mine. Sheerly by accident.

No reaction. Not a twitch.


Then, I utilized a technique that every man and boy learns when in swim trunks in a pool; that there are two ways to 'walk' backwards on one's butt, but only one way keeps the trunks on when you do it. 


With my trunks slid down to my thighs my dick popped out, and by sheer 'accident' I prodded her thigh with it. Then again.

No reaction, and my paranoia could no longer hold back the urges that had built up today. 


Do or die.


I leaned her back on my lap and grabbed her tits with my free hand. First one, then the other. They were gloriously heavy and soft. Gloriously oily and warm.

No reaction. 


My hand slid under the slippery fabric and fondled her directly, my palm pressed against her nipple, felt it harden slightly from my ministrations.

No reaction. 


With a grunt I tugged the straps of her top from both her shoulders down to her elbows, freeing her tits with a bounce. 


Her nipples shined invitingly from the lube. 

I pulled her back into my embrace, pressing their softness against my chest. 

Her slack lips were pressed to mine.


Not her first kiss I know, some ice skater got that, but kissing Ranma was still a fairly small club to be in and I wanted one as well. 

I took it, slipping my tongue in her open mouth, breathing in the her sweet breath of coconut, pineapple, and pure ethanol, making my head spin.


Thanks to the lube she slipped slightly in my grasp, and as I shifted her position in my lap her leg moved and I found my dick pressing directly against the crotch of her swimsuit. 


I felt it give slightly.


Reason left me and I mindlessly began to thrust, humping randomly against the wet fabric, her soft thighs, her abdomen, and I only wanted more. I needed more.


I pulled away from sucking on her face and dragged her more on top of me, pushing her tits into my face, smearing my lips with the lube she'd swept over them. It smelled -and tasted- like victory.


And yes, I'm paraphrasing Apocalypse Now, 1979, by Francis Ford Coppola. Damn good work that one. Watch it.


With her draped somewhat over me, my legs outside hers, I found myself thrusting in that gap, that lovely little two-finger gap of hers. 

It wasn't enough, I needed more, so I claimed another first, a first for both me and her, at least from this side of the camera for me.


I reached down and grabbed her soft ass, fondling it briefly, before tugging the bottom of her swimsuit aside. Though extremely snug, it was made to do so with little fuss.

My cock kissed her pussy, her tight lips rubbed against my glans, it was right there...

But the angle was wrong and I couldn't press it in.


Oh, what a dilemma I was in due to her short height; go for her incredible tits which had enticed me day one and started all of this, or, lean her back down and grip those Kin approved hips and line things up...


With a groan, my hands went under her armpits, I pushed her heavy breasts together with my forearms, guided both nipples to my face and noisily began to suck on them, alternating back and forth. 

Whether walking into a room or into my arms, when it came to Ranma, her tit's always came first.


My thrusts didn't stop though, and I found myself gliding against her slit and up against the bottom of her ass.

Good enough. Also the suit didn't slide back into place, that's how you know it's a Kumo Special.


"Mine." I found myself grunting, splashing water over the edge of the furo with every rhythmic thrust. "Mine!"

Not the most stirring of dialogues I know, and I blame the combination of alcohol, teasing, and my pent up lust, even if I'd rubbed one out an hour before she came, just in case.

Ranma just brings that out in people, even me.


I swapped from one supple breast to the other, rubbing my dick against her thighs and ass as hard as I could, reveling in my prize.


I felt like a teenager, drinking in my first fuck.

I lasted as long as one too.

In less than two frantic minutes I found myself on the edge, and I didn't even try to last longer, nothing mattered except her body against my own, the thrusts, and her proud jutting nipples in my face.


Ten seconds later I came, erupting all over her soft ass, breathing out a guttural groan of "Mine..."


And she was, if only for a little while.


I panted and gasped, reason slowly coming back to my mind, mostly as blood left my softening dick and traveled back up where it was needed.


What had I done?


I cradled her limp form and smiled.


A good start, that's what.

Chapter 26
Chapter 28

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