Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of being in the Saddle ❯ Pool Duel: Battle to a draw. ( Chapter 28 )
Ranma slowly came to with a quiet groan and a wince. Her temples throbbed with her pulse.
She felt very strange. Where was she?
Without moving, without opening her eyes, in a single stilled breath she took in her surroundings.
There was the sound of water, of waves. A beach?
It was warm. Very warm. She was laying down.
Something was on top of her.
There was more, but the rest could wait.
The action: In one motion she sat up and punched. As she did her eyes opened, and she turned to bring her other arm up to deflect the inevitable counterattack.
The result: Her fist hit heavy cloth, punched a hole through it with a sound not unlike ripping the skin off of a rabbit, and the cloth clung to her fist. Her eyes took in far more light than she could currently handle, she flinched, and her arm to block went up to cover her eyes while still turning. Her heavy breasts, which she still had issues with when waking up, messed with her balance, and with a crash, she fell off of her chair, face down and ass up, arm stuck in the heavy beach towel she had punched through.
Then the consequence of her actions that day hit her, and she found herself clutching at her guts, trying not to heave. Luckily, eating Akane's cooking had gotten her very skilled at keeping things down.
Behind her there was the sound of a door sliding open.
"Awake I see." A man, with a slightly harsh voice, sounding approximately three inches taller than him.
Wait, her, currently a girl, so that was closer to fifteen then.
Blearily, she heard him approach.
A limp, leaning to the left. Carrying something, will have to evade until threat is assessed.
Footwork sounds odd though, almost like it's... missing?
"Nemo-san?" Even speaking hurt.
"Indeed." There was humor flicking across his voice. "And I bring gifts."
As she slowly sorted herself into a rough sitting position she heard him circle around her and set something down on a table, likely glass, followed by what sounded like tiny hard things clattering when they were put down.
She carefully, carefully, cracked an eye, just one, and focused.
A glass of water, and three white pills.
"Water, and some aspirin." His voice was still amused. "For your first real hangover, Girl."
Hangover? Why would she have one of those? Wait... Girl?
She shifted her head slightly and even in her misery should could faintly feel it.
Damp velvet around her neck.
Things slowly started coming back to her.
As her jumbled thoughts started to shuffle into place, she found hands gripping her.
Combat instincts warred with soft ones, weak girlish ones, ones she felt and despised from time to time, freezing her in place.
Elbow the opponent's teeth in or...
Marvel at how warm his hands were, and how safe they made a tiny part of her, deep inside, feel.
The elbow was winning, but by the time she had shifted from aiming for his teeth -angle wasn't good with her height- to his kidneys, she found herself being placed back on her beach chair, and the headrest ratcheted up three notches. The towel was carefully plucked off of her wrist. The hole was examined with an amused grunt and she found it draped over her once more, like a blanket.
The hands withdrew and once again she was uncertain at what to do.
The only thing that came to mind was lie still and wait, either for a counterattack, or until she felt better.
With her eyes closed, she heard him circle her, head to his little table, and then return to his own beach chair.
Her wrist was gently grabbed -she barely resisted the urge to reverse the grab into an elbow lock- and first the pills, then the tall cool glass of water were given to her.
What to do? Admit weakness?
"They'll help." He said, before adding. "It's me remember, you don't have to hide anything from me."
After a quiet painful moment, she slowly put the pills in her mouth, before taking a long pull of the glass. Pills swallowed, she finished the glass of water with a small sigh of relief. Amazing how the littlest things like a glass of water can help so much.
"I won't ask how you are feeling, I can tell you feel like hammered crap." Nemo went on before hesitating briefly, "Though I am surprised that this is your first real hangover, didn't you bathe in a hot spring filled with sake a while back?"
Yes she had, but then she'd-
Right... he didn't know about that, the trick. The one and only good thing to come from her curse. Cold then Hot then Cold. Fixes damn near everything save for lack of sleep and hunger and sickness. At least what she'd tested discretely thus far. Hard to do any real experiments out of everyone's prying eyes, and Nabiki's camera.
Should she tell Nemo?
She weighed her odds for a moment, but before making her decision, Nemo spoke.
"Probably something to do with that pressure point, no doubt." She could practically hear him cross his arms and nod. "I'd advise against using it here in the future and simply drink a little less next time."
Next time, would there be a next time?
Then the hidden implication of his words crept out and bit her.
"I matched you glass for glass." She had to. "So how come you ain't-"
"Reeling?" He finished for her, "Falling on you like a sack of rice? Girl, it's simple; Bodyweight. Pound for pound, a larger person can handle more, and that's before personal tolerance, drinking habits, and types of drinks come in."
Stupid girly body, so small, so weak, but...
"Types of drinks?"
"You had rum Girl, and that starts typically at 151 proof and goes up from there." He admonished. "Mine was just vodka and lemon. And I've been drinking longer than you, I can tolerate more."
Hers was also a cocktail, while his was a full glass, but she saw it for what it was, an excuse, a justification.
An olive branch to her pride.
She took it.
"Yeah, that's probably it."
With that she lay still and waited, hoping the aspirin would kick in soon. She heard him lay down on his chair, mirroring her, though without the towel.
"Moving on," He said quietly, and she turned and cracked an eye slightly to see him facing the ceiling, pointedly not looking at her. "What do you... remember?"
Why had he phrased it like that? All she'd done was-
Oh. Right. That.
Maybe he'd buy that she'd gone to sleep. Yeah, that'll work!
She pulled her towel up to cover her face -her madly blushing face- and whimpered quietly into the cloth.
At the quiet whimper I froze. It was always the littlest sounds that made my paranoia spike.
Nothing, I was free to continue.
And I draped her spread legs onto my shoulders.
Getting Ranma to her chair was quite the endeavor, but oh so worth it. No more risk of dunking her, or getting water up your nose, and it let me much more room to try things.
Leaning her over the edge of the tub, getting out, hopping awkwardly towards my chair, falling once in the five steps to it, getting my leg, hauling her out, putting her on her chair, gently drying her off with the beach towel, drying myself off and tossing my soggy Hawaiian shirt on my chair to dry, setting her chair but one notch from flat, tilting her head in case she puked to mitigate choking, and finally setting in between her legs.
The clock was ticking in my head. Three big things to focus on:
I had no idea how long I had, only a rough estimate from the time she had masturbated and passed out.
And I'd spent a few minutes of it already in the bath with her.
And finally, I'd come, and unlike the pornos, there was no pause and scene shift for me, nor was I crazy enough to inject anything into my dick.
So, all said, I had to get us both going.
But where to begin?
Being this close to her, feeling the warmth of her, I was nearly paralyzed by the choices.
After a long minute, I decided.
First, I wanted a taste. That tiny dried drop on the mirror had sparked something within me. A hunger, rather, a thirst.
I smiled as I settled her soft thighs onto my shoulders. Those fucking brats had taken several of those firsts from me, but I had a checklist of my own to work on.
I gently tugged her swimsuit bottom to the side, as toweling her off had slid it back in place.
That beautiful, hairless, magically tight pussy was inches away, no glass between us now, no camera.
"Itadakimasu." I whispered solemnly to whatever god or devil was watching over me.
And I dove in.
[Ranma's first cunnilingus] Check.
"Well?" He wasn't buying it. Crap.
Slowly she brought the towel down, hoping against hope that her efforts with the Soul of Ice was working, that her face wasn't a goddamn tomato.
As the towel came down, she squirmed in her seat.
"Um- I remember most of it. I remember..."
Oiling her tits up, tweaking her nipples to make them pokey, before doing the entire top of the swimsuit to make is see through.
Strutting in, like a ca-ca-feline in heat.
Doing that heel toe trick she'd figured out a while back, which made them jiggle more than they already did.
Posing in front of him, kneeling over him. Showing him half of everything...
"Testing me?" His voice was calm despite the harsh rasp he added, and she snapped her gaze from her breasts to his face. "Do you remember doing that?"
She found herself squirming again.
She was squirming a bit, that was good. Nice to see that I can keep my cunnilingue membership card.
But I wasn't tasting anything.
One of the good -or bad in my case- things about pool-sex and bath-sex is, well, water washes a lot of things away, outside and inside. Not so much with a shower, unless they scrubbed it or angled the shower head up their pussy.
Hmm, Ranma and a showerhead, that'd make a fine tape. Something to see about setting up later.
Regardless, it was popular with the male stars who didn't like to taste their women, which to be fair, can vary wildly in both taste, health, and cleanliness.
If simple licking wasn't going to cut it, I'd have to go a bit deeper.
My hands left her thighs, letting them dangle down my shoulders, I brought my thumbs up and gently pried her open slightly. It took more effort than I thought it would for a girl her size. Damn martial artists, even their pussy's were strong stuff.
I saw the pink behind the folds, and I breathed out in a dreamy sigh on her flesh, making her shift in her sleep.
"Mine." I rasped, and forced my tongue in.
[Ranma's first Tongue Fuck] Check.
It'd be so easy to say she hadn't, but lying to him, after all he'd done for her, at the trust he offered, his home, his food, his money, his help with dealing with everything...
No. He was a friend, an ally, and maybe something more, she didn't have the words to describe it.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I do."
"I understand why you did it."
Really? He did? That'd make one of them.
"The Shower." How those two little words still hurt, even now.
She flinched, good.
Fuck, my tongue was getting a workout, as Ranma's tightness was beyond compare.
And still nothing on the taste end after two minutes.
It happened more often than you'd think. Much time behind the camera of both legitimate and shall we say 'less so' scenes had taught me a lot. Women that were drunk, drugged, or simply unconscious often didn't get wet easily, or at all. A lot of sex was mental after all, and if one partner had checked out...
Still, there were ways.
Gently, my hands went to her thighs and I let her spread open naturally, though her tight pussy closed right back up. I patted it fondly.
This was a large beach chair, and it bore our weight easily. It didn't even creak as I climbed atop of Ranma.
I stopped at her tits, pausing to admire them. I had to pull her straps back up to get her out of the furo, and with her mostly submerged the cloth was opaque once more.
I reached for her straps and once again pulled them down almost to her elbows. Ah, that bounce.
A pity, that I wasn't the first here. Those brats, and possibly Happosai, and who knows who else had played with these. A smaller pool had sucked on them though, I'd be the third, perhaps fourth, hard to tell with the Grandmaster of Anything Goes. Ranma had told me stories.
But I remembered our time together in the tree, way back, and how she moaned quietly when her damp tits felt the breeze.
Time to put what I learned into practice.
I could feel the leer on my face. It makes the skin by my ears stretch slightly thanks to the scars on the back of my neck.
I leaned in.
She started to sit up then paused. The thick towel had been brushing against her breasts gently, calling her attention to them.
Out of sight of Nemo, her left hand quested under the towel.
The suit felt dry. Probably no longer see through.
Discretely the hand went up to check her tits.
Dry there too, though her nipples were pretty hard, kind of tingly. Probably from drying off.
As she slowly turned and sat up, she peeked under the towel. Pointy, but not showing through.
She sat up fully, turned, and lowered the towel slightly, checking his reaction as she did.
Testing him even now.
He kept his gaze firmly on her face.
A pity that wasn't much of test now. It's a lot easier to do that without her oiling them up and giving him a show.
"So, what's the last thing you do remember Girl?" He asked.
The towel around her waist helped her hide her squirming.
She squirmed under me slightly, but I didn't stop.
These fucking tits, I could do this all day.
As I sucked on one, I fondled the other.
Kneading, tweaking, fondling, and most importantly learning.
Where did Ranma like it best?
If only all education was this fun.
At first I held my body weight mostly off of her with one arm, but as time went on I found myself gradually leaning more on her, until at the end of the third minute I draped myself on her fully.
She bore my weight like it was nothing, and I am not a small man. Not fat per see, aside of my little gut, but more for my size in general. I had heard the odd snide remark behind my back as I grew, wondering if I was some sort of Army baby that just looked Japanese.
Nope, Dad was big too. His whole side of the family was taller than average.
But back to what was important, Ranma's tits.
I gently bit down and tugged on it, before sucking hard, trying to get both nipples as rosy and erect as when she had in front of the mirror.
I felt it stiffen and swell further against my tongue.
As I did I was listening, and her breathing had changed.
A little faster, a little more rhythmic.
She focused on her breathing, keeping the rhythm steady, keeping control.
The words were slow in coming out.
"I remember..." Oiling up, she didn't say. "Coming out." And on display...
By the fourth minute I knew I was onto something, well, aside of Ranma I mean.
It was painfully obvious when Ranma's hips started to sway, my weight meant nothing to her.
As I tongued a nipple I felt us begin to shift as she began to move against me. Moving like she wanted something.
Her unconscious breathing had gone from hitching, to gasping, and finally to quiet whimpering.
I paused and gently cupped her groin.
I pulled myself away from her tits and looked down at her.
Her nipples were rosy and fully erect, a step just beyond what Ranma had done to herself.
How much further could they be teased?
Her face was flushed and not just from the alcohol in her blood, her parted lips complete with a trickle of drool from the corner of her mouth. Her breathing was intermixed with her whimpers.
And her hips were still rocking, ever so gently, even after I stopped sucking on her.
I pressed against her, reveling in the sensation of Ranma writhing against me.
Finally they stopped.
I crawled back down her body and gazed between her legs, at her arousal, her dripping wetness. As I did, an idle thought quickly became intriguing, then intoxicating in its potential.
Could it work?
"I remember..." Jiggling on purpose. Watching you look, feeling the power it gave as she crept closer, "Testing you." And liking how it felt.
I placed her legs back around my shoulders once more, but I didn't dive in. Not yet.
My lips hovered just out of reach of her, and my breath tickled her pussy, just enough to draw a near silent whimper.
With my long arms and her small body, I easily reached around, up her legs, up her hips, past her waist.
And latched onto her heavy breasts.
And with my newfound knowledge of Ranma's sensitive spots, I began to mercilessly tease them.
Her hips began to move slowly once more.
"I remember climbing into the furo." And going far beyond a simple test, a tease, a tactic. Even going topless against Ryoga was a strategy, his shyness ensured that his eyes never lingered on her.
Would she have liked it if his had?
The silence drove her to add, "And drinking some more."
There it was. The hitches in her breathing.
I gently squeezed and hefted her breasts, letting their weight aid me as I felt her hips sway harder and closer.
"I remember..." Going further with him than she had with any other guy, for any reason, ever.
"...Falling on you." No martial technique would place you in your opponents hands like that, no strategy would consider it sound, and thanks to that pressure point, she didn't even have the excuse of being all that drunk during those moments.
But she had to know.
Soft, inarticulate little sounds poured like syrup from Ranma's lips as I gently tweaked and tugged at her nipples.
I pinched them firmly and slowly pulled, lifting her heavy breasts with my remaining fingers, marveling at how something that should have been painful to many girls seemed to only drive her higher.
One finger at a time, I let go, until only my thumb and forefinger remained and her nipples held the entire weight of her breasts up.
“Hh…ahhh…” Her hips rolled... she pressed her lips to mine.
And I tasted her pussy.
[Ranma's first face ride] Check.
"And you endured it all." There was a blush on her face, she could feel it along with the throbbing of her temples. She felt a tingle in her chest, and somewhere else, somewhere deeper. "Even though I knew you were..." She trailed off, uncertain how to say it.
"Hard?" Nemo's voice wasn't accusing pitch, wasn't condemning in tone. It was calm, understanding.
"Yeah." The blush was never gonna go away, was it?
I will never describe what Ranma's pussy tastes like.
It is mine, alone, to know.
As are the quiet sounds she made as I did.
I will tell you that I loved it, and given a chance, I would eat her out for hours, until my tongue was numb.
But I didn't have hours, and at that moment I was harder than I had ever been in my life.
"Because Ranma," Nemo repeated to her quietly as she hung her head down and away. "I decided that being your friend was worth more than you being in my hands."
Something deep inside her fluttered as he said it.
My cock was dribbling -actually dribbling- from the tip.
Now I've been hard, but never like this.
With a final flick of my tongue and a gentle kiss on her clit, I pulled away from Ranma's pussy and let go of her breasts.
It was time to fuck her.
I shuffled forward and pressed the tip of my dick against her, feeling her hips gently rock against me, smearing her arousal and mine together.
[Ranma's first cock kiss] Check.
I pushed forward slightly, feeling her lips slowly spread on the tip, only to freeze.
A whimper of discomfort from Ranma, and her hips had stopped moving.
Paranoia spiked briefly, only to fade into sheepish realization.
Ranma was tight, really really tight.
"Not that I are made it easy for you." Ranma said, a tiny smile on your lips.
Nemo chuckled, and she decided that she liked the sound of it.
"No you did not."
[Ranma's first fingering] Check.
God she was tight.
Even with her copious wetness, getting a finger in was harder than it should be. Martial Artists were tough everywhere.
But once in, it was amazing, the way her pussy was trying to milk my finger tip only promised what it would be like elsewhere.
Slowly I rocked my finger tip back and forth, gradually getting deeper, and I swear that every clench and squeeze she gave my middle finger was being transmitted to my dick...
And then I froze, not from another whimper, but from an obstacle.
"You gotta be shitting me." The words tumbled from my lips.
Ranma had a hymen.
"But," Nemo reminded her,"Some of the best things are not easy to obtain."
Thanks to my skill with a camera and my side job, I knew quite a bit about hymens.
Most weren't that big, the normal ones anyways, but there were odd ones, and naturally, they often drove up the price for the new girls.
Fuck that sounds sinister when I say it like that.
Allow me to clarify.
First times always paid more to the girls, and having a large visible hymen was a bonus.
There, that's better.
Defloration was a big deal for both video and photo work. There were whole scenes changed, edited, or outright removed because of them, and others dedicated to just that moment, that first time.
Special angles, special performances. The microphone had to pick up her whimpers, and catching that flinch with a camera was very tricky, even for me.
I knew hymens, and once again, Ranma's was an impossibility.
There was no way she could kick like she did without it tearing, no way in hell.
Yet here it was.
My face probably looked extra flummoxed as I gently traced it, looking for a tear, any tear.
Please be an anularis, I could ease one of those open...nope.
How about a microperforatus, I'd even settle for that...nope.
A Hymen imperforatus, and those had two real trademarks; they were tough, and they hurt like a bitch when punched through.
Even drunk as she was, it might wake Ranma up.
I couldn't fuck her.
"Since you seem to remember right up to when the pressure point failed, allow me to fill in what you missed." His voice was still harsher than normal, his 'Sir' voice, the one he only used when she was Girl, another line in the sand he provided for her to use.
"But before I do Girl," He went on, "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Oh hell, that was what was written on her face, oh hell.
She could say that yes, she did mind, and end this by laying down and draping an arm across her eyes.
He wouldn't press her, of this she was fairly certain.
But... she owed him.
Nothing is ever easy in Nerima, even fucking a drunk girl.
And when that drunk girl was a Martial Artist, it was even harder.
And when Magical Chinese Cursed Springs were added to that, with a possible regenerating hymen, it was quite the challenge.
But it wouldn't stop me, no it would not.
I might not fuck her today but...I could still learn.
With my finger still inside her, my free hand grabbed one of her ankles, and slowly began to spread her legs wide.
Ranma had done the splits, horizontal splits, directly in front of the camera without a flinch.
If she simply tore it and it regenerated, the first kick or stretch might tear it, and she'd be sore for a bit, but good for the rest of the day.
A good theory... but she'd also turned into a girl right in front of the camera moments before she did that. No discomfort. No flinch. Not even a hint of blood.
Was her pain threshold simply that high and she hadn't noticed? If so, I could perhaps get away with this; Not today, but the next time...
Or, another possibility, that like the rest of Ranma, the hymen was unique.
And so I swept her legs apart, further and further, until she was almost doing the splits once more. I rolled her hips back, letting my one arm spread both legs ever so slightly past the horizontal splits, all while my finger inside her swept back and forth.
This spread and it would tear the hymen of any normal woman.
Should have, I ought to say, for it didn't.
And instead I found a thin line. A tiny gap had appeared.
Was this a really thin hymen labialis? No, I would have felt it. This was just... two.
Something new then, and, if my U of T Latin class hadn't gone completely to mush, I had just the name for it.
Hymen Geminae. The Twin hymen. Each connected to one side and overlapped, allowing her to kick without any discomfort.
The perfect hymen for a Martial Artist.
Satisfied, I pulled my finger slightly back and swept it up.
One mystery down. Now, where was Ranma's G-Spot?
Being able to hit that in a single confident motion would do wonders for future events.
While Ranma had been trained by the best in their field of expertise, so had I, in a way.
Some ladies on set needed the female equivalent of a fluffer and I was, for lack of better term, handy. And naturally that lead to the G-spot, both in action and in discussion.
It may sound silly, but whether or not it actually existed was a serious topic of debate in the industry.
Most of the veteran girls on the sets swore up and down on it's existence, and, often showed me where to find theirs. I think they were taking pity on me, but in the end it really helped with my nearly non-existent dating life for a while there.
I knew all sorts of tricks.
And in my search for Ranma's I found the second great secret of her pussy.
But this one I had no idea what I was dealing with.
"Do you feel safe with me?"
That certainly wasn't what she expected him to ask. She found her eyes sweeping up to look at him. "What do you mean?"
At her perplexed gaze, Nemo found himself expanding on his chain of thought. "The Shower. The Pool. A chance to see if you were safe with me, faking being drunk to confirm it without actually being in risk. It makes sense."
It did indeed make sense, especially from his perspective.
"That is why you did that, correct?" His voice was still raspy, and harsh, but also curious. "Seeing if I was safe? Testing the lines?"
It was a line?
As I ran my finger across it, her hips lurched and she clamped down hard.
Almost like a widow's peak, the two sides meeting in a gentle sweep in the middle, forming a strangely soft and bumpy line.
I have fingered a few gymnasts and, once, a rare example of a muscular female bodybuilder. None of them had these.
Was this one of those Martial Artists only thing?
Who can say? I haven't fingered any others.
But it certainly was sensitive, whatever it was.
A single stroke along it and Ranma was clenching so hard that, when I withdrew my finger, she was still clenching for a bit after.
Very very good to know.
But time was running out.
Was that why she had done it?
A good theory, and it made sense, but, wrong. Rather, incomplete.
She wasn't just testing him, now was she?
If I couldn't fuck her just yet, not without additional preparation, I still had to deal with myself somehow.
And with her pussy and ass (No way was that going to be a zero prep hole!) off the scorecard, there was always plan C.
I leaned over and grabbed the lube.
Not for oiling up her tits, which would be a delight to do, except that the clock was ticking and I wouldn't have the time to clean them all off. Rather, for my dick.
I stood and looked down at her as I gently oiled my dick, taking care not to set myself off, I was still very close to the edge.
Even lying nearly flat on her back her breasts didn't diminish. That only happened with two types of Japanese women.
Either she had implants, and the silicone bags couldn't spread fully flat.
They were so big, that she didn't have enough chest for her tits to spread out on.
"Hmm, something else then?" His voice was shrewd at her silence. "Or something more?"
She couldn't say it, even if she trusted him with a lot, this ugly little secret was just too much.
She settled for turning away from him, clutching at her towel.
"Girl, I need an answer. Do you feel safe with me?"
Let's be honest here, the only reason why I didn't aim for a tit fuck was the fact that I wasn't certain I could control myself to stop.
Next time however, and I would be working hard to ensure there would be a next time, those would be my first target, right out the gates.
But no, I had a few more firsts to claim, and with the antics and magical crap that Ranma got into, I figured it was best to get them now, and ensure that they were genuine firsts.
Yes, those were really important to me.
So no, not her incredible breasts, but her hands.
A funny thing about those. Ranma as a male had the hands of a Martial Artist, and you'd have to feel a practitioner yourself to truly understand what that means. The bones were thicker from the endless impacts, the skin was thicker, the tendons, and on top of that there were callouses that gave away just how Ranma liked to use them.
I mean, if I was a Martial Artist, all it meant for me that his hands felt thicker and rougher than any laborer or craftsman I had shaken hands with.
And a female Martial Artist was the same. Shampoo had them, the Kuonji girl, Akane's were only partly there.
But not Ranma's. As a girl her hands were soft, uncalloused, unblemished, the knuckles dainty, the fingers small.
Another handicap for Ranma in a fight, it wasn't just her size and reach and tits that were a problem, but her hands as well.
It was as if they'd never been used for labor. As impeccable as her tits, and her pussy.
I hunched over her body, erection still rock hard, and guided her hands around my dick.
[Ranma's first handjob] Check.
Did she feel safe?
It was a strange question, and yet, not.
As a Martial Artist, the best, where wasn't she safe?
Even a building falling on her wasn't much of a problem, Pop's had been strangely thorough about that. It had come in handy being buried under the skating rink thanks to Ryoga.
But that wasn't the question.
Did she feel safe? And the Feeling part was the bit underlined here.
At the Tendos? Not since she faced Kuno and seen the photos, Nabiki and the camera, then Happosai.
At the School? Not with all those eyes, ever since her tits had been seen.
At the Nekohanten with Shampoo and Cologne? Hell no.
At Ucchans? Sadly, no.
What about here?
She had been cautious, first to ensure that nothing would be broken and naturally all her fault. But after that, she kept this place a secret, from everyone, even Pops.
Because she could relax here when it was empty.
She didn't have to pretend.
With Nemo, she had been cautious yes, wary of him being like everyone else. Of wanting something, be it a pound of flesh, vengeance, or marriage.
And yet, he hadn't ever peeked when she had been bathing, he hadn't leered with his gaze, hadn't tried to undress her with his eyes.
And she'd tested him, today, and pressed the issue harder and further than she had with anyone before.
Quite literally at the end.
She'd felt an erection, and that paradoxically gave her some relief. Sure he'd frozen up when she'd done the whole wet tanktop trick, but there was the quiet fear that he might be after... the guy side.
But no, she'd teased and tempted and jiggled and finally offered.
Yes she offered it, gone limp and unconscious right on top of him, oiled up and ready.
Ready to break away from him when he failed, like all the rest.
But he hadn't. He was different.
It was, in fact the last sober thought she had had.
"Yes." She said at last with a small smile.
"Yes..." I moaned, erupting all over her face.
[Ranma's first facial] Check.
Like the rest of her, Ranma's hands were great, like a courtesan who had never worked a day of labor in her life.
Like the highest class of prostitute.
After making sure she'd wrung everything out of me, I let go of her hands and gazed upon my work.
Her face... her lips... a trickle dripped into her mouth... Were I behind the camera, I would have called it a fine finish to any porno.
And to our time here.
Time to clean up.
"Good." His voice was harsh still, but she could hear the smile in it. It was gone when she'd turned to face him though. "Then we can keep going."
At her glance towards the empty glass, he nodded and got up, and limped towards the faucet.
Ironically she liked that he didn't try to hide his limp in front of her. He didn't need to, he trusted her.
A fresh glass was passed to her.
Good, as her mouth still tasted funny.
[Ranma's first mouthful of cum] Check.
I had collected what I could and fed it to her. Gently of course, I didn't want her to heave. Her tongue danced slightly between her lips, tasting, and seemingly not finding it unpleasant.
After that, with gentle dabs of my towel, I wiped her down. Her face, her breasts, the sticky mess between her legs. I'd take it with me and wash it.
The straps went back up her shoulders, her breasts carefully tucked in, though I couldn't resist giving her nipples one last tweak as I did.
All that was left was her bottom, and my clothes. I'd need a new shirt, as soaking in one and letting it dry often made it feel itchy.
As my shorts were retrieved and pulled back up they stopped right before my cock. It was still semi-hard, even cleaning Ranma was a pleasant experience.
I really shouldn't, but what was one more first?
I straddled Ranma's face and carefully brought my cock to her lips.
[Ranma's first cock kiss from both sets of lips] Check.
She shifted, murmured, and her lips actually did give it a little kiss by accident, just to the tip.
I thought I'd got it all out of me, but a little bit dribbled out of my tip.
God, I wanted to fuck her face so badly...
"Now to catch you up. First, if you are wondering why I'm wearing a new shirt and why the furo is empty, it's because as I was hauling you out, you threw up a little on me."
Ah, that explained the taste in her mouth.
Also, embarrassing. Her face was becoming red again.
"Don't worry about it," Nemo was quick to reassure. "You wouldn't believe what's gotten on me at work when booze was involved."
Television studios must have some strange parties indeed.
"Next, the hot water is reconnected but the furo will have to be cleaned before I refill it, so use the shower to rinse off."
Good to know.
"Dinner has been ordered, it'll be here in an hour or so." He went on, "And we should have time for a movie. Dress as you wish."
Also good, plenty of time to 'sober up', and more importantly, collect her thoughts.
She nodded, and he turned to leave after collecting the glass.
She didn't fail to notice the semi he still had.
Nor did she fail to notice how that made her feel.
But I couldn't. Pity.
But that didn't mean I'd let this final bit of our time together go to waste.
After he left, she squirmed ever so slightly where she sat, legs rubbing together.
Remembering the dreams.
The incredibly intense, pleasant dreams.
She shivered, then got up to shower.
She felt a little sticky still.
I collected the last dribble from my tip and smiled, feeling the skin stretch along my jawline as I did.
"Mine." I promised, and I gently pushed my finger back into Ranma's pussy.
Risky, I know, but I wasn't too worried about it.
Ranma had, after all, only had a period after a solid month being female thanks to Cologne.
And, while I didn't know it at the time, when the Musk arrived, they would answer another facet of the Jusenkyo curse.
Plus I knew Ranma was going to use the hot and cold water trick to sober up.
I wouldn't call it a first, not from a fingertip full.
And with that, I gently tugged the bottom of her suit back into place.
I left to go change.
She wore the white dress again. It was clean, on top of the pile, and it covered her from neck to toes.
And it felt pleasant to be in, not that she'd ever admit it.
Rather, she already had, indirectly, so she didn't need to any more.
And Nemo wouldn't judge, this she knew now. Knew, not guessed, implied, or hoped.
That fact made her feel strangely good. It was...comforting.
This time she didn't fight the feeling, or try to shy away from it, she simply accepted it as a Girl thing.
A Girl Feeling.
Nothing to be afraid of.
Speaking of Nemo, he deserved something for all the teasing she'd done.
No, testing, not teasing. It was testing.
She'd remember how he had looked at her each time in the dress, in the various types of underwear... and when she wore none.
Just this once.
He earned it.
And she owed him.
He would certainly notice, and she would enjoy it.