_debbiechan_ (_debbiechan_) wrote in bleachness,
_debbiechan_
_debbiechan_
bleachness

The Topping on the Cake, PWP, NC17 IshiHime


Just a little porn.

Note--I always think of guys, young or old, refined or not, Quincy or Shinigami, using the word "fucking" in their minds to describe the same act that girls would call "making love."

Topping on the Cake
by debbiechan

   
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite created Bleach. I don’t own Ishida and Orihime anymore than they own one another.

Description: NC17, P (some) P, a sexual experience sometime after the first kiss but before the wedding. Continues from “The Risky Art of Listening” story. IshiHime.

Warnings: Sex, cuteness, comedy about dominance and submission.



---
Thanks go to Jasse from Bleach Forums for reminding me of the following Ishida quotes from the Hueco Mundo arc:

"Sorry I win; the difference in reach does determine the winner."


“I am dominating this.”

And everyone’s fave:

"The maximum continuous firing range of Gneri Kojaku is....1,200 shots"

---





No wisdom but in submission to the gods. ~ Sophocles



Ishida didn’t want to be straddled.

No way, no how, not ever.

He understood that if Orihime were on top of him, her glorious breasts would be in full view and their beauty enhanced by gravity, but the first time she’d attempted to ride him, he panicked. The external manifestations of a panic attack aren’t easy to distinguish from the usual panting and flushing of sexual arousal, but Ishida’s mind had been shouting Get off, get off, if you don’t get off, I don’t know what will become of my Quincy pride!

Luckily, Orihime--being Orihime--fell off of him somehow, and Ishida felt manly again.

From that night onward, he’d flip her over as soon as she made any attempt to mount him. He wasn’t missing out on much, he thought. A supine position spread Orihime’s bosom into creamy puddles of easy-to-fondle flesh and her pretty face was there to gaze upon.

That was the way that he liked it. He thought his attitude was gallant too--because pleasuring her topped his list of priorities, and he wasn’t going to lie around and let the girl do all the work.

He was seventeen years old and someone who had helped save the universe. Being on top did not define certain aspects of maleness for Ishida, but the position reinforced them. He was the proud protector, the fiancé spelled with one e, the Quincy of the relationship.
 
Not that Ishida didn’t have the utmost respect for Orihime’s role in their partnership. He was fine with her being the gentle voice of wisdom to his sometimes narrow logic. He was fine if she paid for lunch or if in a terrible battle, Shun Shun Rikka happened to shield him and all his weaponry from harm. It was just that her enthusiasm for sex, while enthralling, was … a little intimidating. If Ishida so much as gave her an affectionate glance, she was ready for action. She’d leap onto his back, tackle him around the waist, or start removing her clothing where she stood. She initiated the sex so often that Ishida wanted to feel in charge of the rest.

Orihime is amazing. 
He would tell himself that every day. Orihime is the goddess of Karakura. Every morning at school, he’d marvel at her generous figure in her school uniform. His beautiful Orihime. A guileless and sweet girl with large hazel eyes. A complete innocent.

A complete innocent who was a total sex maniac.

Their first time happened only because Orihime insisted; Ishida had wanted to hold off actual intercourse until after the wedding. But a naked girl going “Uuuuuuuuryu, please, I want to see what it feels like” can be pretty persuasive, so they did it.

Even though he had been scared of hurting her and then having those damn fairies appear to heal her hymen, he’d pushed through her vagina as bravely as he’d pushed into Soul Society and Hueco Mundo. One “OUCH!” and she was fine, squirming sexily beneath him even though she said it stung and felt crowded down there. Then she’d brought Ishida’s hand to her clit and forced him to rub her into what, lo and behold, was an actual orgasm for a girl’s first time.

Everything she did seemed instinctual; Ishida was sure that she believed the missionary position was the only nature-certified, authentic way and that all other variations were Ishida’s own clever inventions. Sweet innocents like Orihime didn’t have access to porn or if they came across some, they had a resistance to cultural corruption.

Little did he know.

They were cuddling on Ishida’s couch one afternoon and wondering when and how Ishida should approach his father to tell him that his teenage son planned to marry after college entrance exams … when Orihime--being Orihime--suddenly changed the subject.

“I bet you’d like the backwards cowboy.”

Ishida readjusted his train of thought. “The what?”

“The backwards cowboy,” Orihime nestled her head against Ishida’s chest. “It’s a sex position.”

The horror was immediate. She knows the names of sex positions that I don’t know.

“It’s where the girl gets on top but facing the other way. Do you think you’d like that?”

Ishida was too stunned to respond.

“You don’t allow me to get on top of you,” Orihime went on, “so I thought maybe looking at me gives you vertigo or something like that.” She made a wistful face, a you-don’t-allow-me face.

“No!” Ishida didn’t know where to start. “First of all, allow you? Allow you? Where do you get the idea that I’m inhibiting you in any way? I’d never do that!” Ishida cupped the pretty face of his bride-to-be. He felt guilty because he was inhibiting his little sex goddess. “And I don’t get dizzy from looking at your face--I mean, not in the bad way. Not vertigo. Not throw-up dizziness. Dizziness from love.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. He hoped that would steer her away from the subject. The word love was usually enough to distract her, and Orihime was an easily distracted girl.

“So it’s not vertigo or allergies or anything like that?”

“Allergies?”

“There must be some reason,” Orihime pressed on, “why every time I try to get on top of you, you roll me over.”

“Um.”  Change the subject. Daisies.  Fabric sales. Talk about how to convince Mrs. Arisawa into catering the wedding for free. “Why is it,” Ishida asked in spite of himself, “that you know the names of sex positions?” He hoped he didn’t sound accusing or disapproving.

“The Internet!” Orihime said triumphantly. “Don’t you go on the Internet, Uryuu? I thought for certain that boys were on there all the time looking at naked girls. That’s what Chizuru says….” She looked puzzled. “Hmmm, maybe Chizuru was saying that she was the one who looks at naked girls. I don’t remember what she said. I think she was going to give me a website but Tatsuki kicked her.”

“The Internet?” He didn’t even have a computer in his apartment. The last naked Internet girl he’d seen was years ago, before he left his father’s house, and he hadn’t been impressed. Aroused but not impressed. There had been something yellowish about the skin, something jaded about the eyes….

“I didn’t know you went on the Internet often, Orihime.” Even if she did, the act didn’t sully his lovely girl. Look at her--the picture of ingenuousness.

“I thought I needed to do some research. You know, after that night we kissed and…” Orihime made circles in the air with her index finger. Was she trying to describe rolling around on the floor in sign language? Was she making the sign for whoopty doo? “I figured the Internet was the best place to look since people were always talking about sex stuff they’d seen there. But you know what? The computers at school don’t let you access sites like that. I finally got to use the computer at Tatsuki’s mom’s office, though, and there was a lot of sex stuff. ”

Although the image of Orihime browsing through Internet porn was mildly arousing, Ishida was chiding himself. Why hadn’t he done some research? He should’ve figured that she would; now she was ahead of him in sexual scholarship. Ishida didn’t like to have anyone ahead of him in anything.

Or anyone on top of him.

It was the pride issue.

But this was Orihime we were talking about here. She didn’t threaten anyone. She didn’t compete with anyone. Why should he be afraid of--?

“So why, Uryuu?” She was looking at him an honest face that expected an honest answer. “Why don’t you want me to be on top?”

He lied. It was a stupid lie but he didn’t want to reveal that, besides having this pride complex, the idea of being on his back, helpless and sex-paralyzed, made him want to leave the room. He was too proud to walk away, though, so he said softly:  “I didn’t know that there was…” He closed his eyes. “I wasn’t aware that there was such a position.” Lame but she’ll buy it. “I didn’t do the research. I’m sorry if I failed you, Orihime.” He bowed his head. At least his shame was real.

“No problem!” Orihime stood up and pulled off her shirt. “The girl does all the work. You’ll see.”

There she goes.
Ishida knew he’d have to submit to Orihime’s will sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected to be attacked right away.

She was down to her panties.

“Orihime! You never wait for me to draw the curtains!”

The shutters were closed, but Ishida leapt to draw white folds with tiny blue crosses--he’d made the curtains out of thick broadcloth so that the small living room would be hidden from voyeurs who might come running at the sound of Orihime’s enthusiasm.

They rarely made love at Ishida’s apartment because his street was more crowded than hers was, because his building had more tenants and thinner walls, and because Ishida was fairly neurotic about the awed looks neighbors gave him on mornings after. He didn’t mind them thinking he was a sexual prodigy, but he worried about people assuming Orihime was an immodest girl. She wasn’t immodest, just loud.

“Uryuu, you’re adorable when you worry about peepers.”

Ishida hadn’t even turned around when his shirt hem was pulled out and Orihime was behind him, crossing her arms over his chest. He was all fine and good with her undressing him. She liked to do it, and each body part she separated from a clothing part got hordes of kisses. She even made taking off his glasses an erotic ritual, and--wonderful girl that she was--she always put them safely on a dresser where they wouldn’t get rolled over by amorous bodies. Undressing himself was beyond boring now.

Ishida’s fingers lifted locks of hair and dropped them in ginger-orange waves over her nude shoulders.

His plan was to make love to Orihime so furiously and so well that she would forget all about the stupid position and be too tired to remember anything about it for days.

“You smell like summer, Orihime.” He kissed her. “You smell like fruits and flowers.”

Ishida did enjoy the scent of shampoo products, and Orihime loved a little poetry now and then. He knew he was a bad poet, but concocting a simple simile usually did the trick, and she was all moosh. At the moment, Ishida wanted mooshy Orihime instead of hellcat Orihime.

It was a short distance to the couch, and as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her his most romantic gaze, Ishida walked forwards and she walked backwards.

Once they got there, though, Ishida’s gameplan dissolved. Before he could even kiss her once, Orihime threw one thigh over his waist and shoved him against the cushions.

On his back.

She didn’t really have the strength to hold him there, of course.

He didn’t have the strength to refuse her.

When she starts to get distracted with lust, I can flip her over and she will have gotten her jollies for the day.

She looked him up and down with a strange little smile on her face.

She’s not going to do something to surprise me, is she? She’s not like that.

The earnest attention Orihime paid his body always filled Ishida with love and happiness, so the first part wasn’t bad. He wasn’t all hard yet, so she stroked him with just the tips of her fingernails and teased him with just the tip of her tongue. The mere sight of her doing that made him ready.

She tossed her hair back and looked at him. “Forwards or backwards?”

“What?”

“The regular way or the backwards cowgirl way?”

“Regular is fine. I want to look at you.”

She smiled, appeared overcome with sexiness, and when she raised a hand to fondle her own nipples and lowered the other hand to stir her clit, Ishida forgot what position she had him in.

Then he remembered again.

The couch wasn’t wide as even his single bed, so all sexual acts performed on it had to be feats of balance and grace. Ishida with his slender limbs and Quincy sensitivities could hold Orihime on this couch for hours but maybe Orihime’s lower center of gravity would pose a challenge for her? She had one knee squeezed between his hip and the couch back, and her other leg stood on the floor.

She was doing okay so far, though.

“I love you,” she whispered as if the words were a wicked incantation instead of an endearment. After playing with herself a little while, she leaned forwards. Eyes half-closed, she slid his cock inside her. “I love you”--the phrase was weighty and suspenseful. He was the only man who would ever hear it, the only man who would be subject to its consequences.

They’d been lovers for one spring and one summer. The pleasure burned and was still new every time. Even before she began to move, Ishida felt weak. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the goddess Inoue Orihime desired him this way.

There. He’d just had a vulnerable thought. He felt less than deserving? No, even when in the superior position, he was often humbled by the very miracle of nature beneath him. Orihime was far, far from an ordinary girl.

“Do you feel dizzy?” She was sitting on him, looking uncertain as to what to do next.

“No.”

Why did she still think he had vertigo? He looked at the ceiling. Okay, he could understand why someone, being fucked, might feel like he was falling into another dimension. The corners of the room seemed disengaged from every other part of reality … things were clean up there because he always swept a broom over dust bunnies and cobwebs….

“Uryuu? Are you alright?”

Beautiful trusting, caring person. He’d lied to her. He kept his eyes on the ceiling as he confessed his offense.

“Orihime, I wasn’t telling the truth when I said that….” How stupid am I? Why did I say that?  “When I said I didn’t know that people could make love this way, I did know.”

“I know,” she said. “I figured you were trying to cover up the real reason.”

Astonished, he looked at her. Who was the naïve one here?

“The real reason,” she went on, “is that you get dizzy or have some physical problem you’re shy about--”

“No! I don’t have a physical problem!”

Orihime had started to move--tentatively, as if concerned that he might drop out. She didn’t exactly look confident--which was unusual for Orihime in sexual matters--but Ishida then inferred that her worry might be not be over her performance but rather, over his reaction.

I’m not going to panic.


“Tatsuki says that trying something new is like getting on a horse for the first time, that it’s scary but then gets fun fast.” Orihime rocked up and down gently and pinched her nipple with a thumb and forefinger. “The time we went to her cousin’s stable, though, I couldn’t get on. Not because I was scared, but because the poor little horse looked so pooped and I bet he was sick of carrying around clumsy girls. I was too heavy for him, I’m sure of it.”

It was happening. Ishida was starting to feel helpless. The lull of Hime-speak, usually so endearing, oppressed him. The damn girl was smarter than he was. She knew everything.

“I still want to ride a horse someday, though.”

Ishida could hear his own breathing. It wasn’t slowing, as it did when he was physically engaged with Orihime--it was speeding up. His father had berated him about hyperventilating when training, and Ishida had learned how to steady his reiatsu if over-anticipating an opponent. Calming one’s reflexes, steadying one’s aim, preparing to kill--he could do these things as a warrior. Sex, while like war in many ways, was anything but conducive to meditative stillness, and being on his back … this could get bad. If his calcium levels dropped like his father said, if he got tingling feet or a cramp….

“This isn’t really like riding a horse at all.” Orihime said.

Ishida took a big gulp of air and let it out in a prolonged shuddering breath that Orihime mistook for passion. She bent over to kiss him, and though the position gave her more leverage, her movements were shallower. With each roll of her hips, a wave of anxiety rolled over Ishida.

“Orihime.”
His voice was hoarse, and he was entering the stage of no return.

Maybe he should shoot fast and get it over with.

“You’re not doing anything,” Orihime whispered. It wasn’t an accusatory remark, just a bewildered one.

The remark made Ishida feel even more helpless. “What do you want me to do?” His breath felt trapped behind his face, and his manhood teetered on the verge of humiliation. He’d already looked dumb, acted vulnerable, and now he was going to come quick.

“Touch me.”

Oh, of course. How could he have forgotten?

She was leaning close enough for him to touch her breasts with his face.  People saw Orihime’s breasts as a large part of her sex appeal, but Ishida hadn’t started to revere them until he saw her unclothed. Not only were Orihime’s breasts full, white globes of perfection but they were as expressive as her pretty face. They responded to affection. If Ishida kissed them, they flushed pink. If Ishida sucked them, the nipples rose from flat rosy circles into alert buds of erotic readiness.

Ishida’s quick breath had been blowing on one nipple, and that one was aroused while the other one wasn’t. He licked the flat one. He opened his mouth wide and swallowed it and the flesh around it.

Orihime’s response was to jerk her hips a little. The movement startled Ishida because it pushed up his cock. Then she rotated her hips in rhythm to his sucking.

I can deal with this.

Some many rotations later, having forgotten all about hyperventilating, Ishida was rubbing Orihime’s soft and luscious bottom when she made a squeak he recognized. It was the squeak she made when she fending off an orgasm. But this time it felt like she was reaching for more sensation. Her clit pressed hard against his pelvic bone, and she rubbed faster and faster. Orihime seemed anything but out of control.

“Oh Uryuu … this … feels… incredible.”

Her face strained and her eyes shut. She moaned.

Usually this sight aroused Ishida into a fury of passion, but she seemed to be overlooking the fact he was there … Why had she forgotten about him? Other times when she rubbed herself against his body parts, she also ran her hands through his hair, nibbled his ears and whispered silly endearments.

This time she pulled right off him. Her breast fell out of his mouth with a small wet sound, and she sat straight up.

“Oh, oh.” She was turning her own self on. “Ohhhhhhh.”

Ishida didn’t feel helpless now so much as he felt ignored.

Orihime then had the audacity to pinch her own nipples.

Here, let me handle that.


Ishida had no sooner put his palms on her breasts than she grabbed his wrists and pushed them to either side of his head. A very dominant gesture. She held him right there against the cushions and gave him a hard, lust-filled look. Her lips slightly parted. She was the boss here.

She really couldn’t hold him down, of course.

She seemed to like holding him like that, though.

Orihime really likes this.

If she likes this, then what’s the big deal?

Maybe I’m doing something to pleasure her just by lying here.


She must’ve taken delight in his confusion because she smiled sweetly and leaned forward to lick his face. “Uryuu. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you too.”

What?

As in take care of his orgasm?

The words were still being mulled over in Ishida’s overactive brain when Orihime released one wrist and one arm disappeared behind her. Then Ishida felt her fingering his balls. Her thrusts became harder. She was fucking him, wasn’t she?

He threw his head back. The following moments veered between ecstasy and delirium. His two hands lay, weak and motionless, on either side of his face.

He wasn’t at her mercy, exactly, because she was enjoying this far more than he was. She was getting noisy. “Uhhhhhhh, ah ah.” Her hips seemed to punctuate her noises instead of the other way around. Where had she learned such perfect control? Oh of course, this was Orihime. She manipulated her own reiatsu. She knew her own body.

Ishida lifted his head to look. That’s when he realized she wasn’t rubbing herself against his pelvis anymore. His cock went in and went out--that sole motion exciting her.

She’s hitting a place I never hit for her.

That thought should’ve humbled Ishida, but the sight of his own cock as she maneuvered her body thrilled him. She was lifting herself far up, pushing down to the base--all with fluency and power.

When he pushed upwards, he hadn’t intended to. He was following his urge to fuck.

Her eyes opened. Maybe she hadn’t expected that he could do this.

He fucked her harder, raising his thighs and ass off the couch.

She responded by falling over him, holding onto his shoulders, and fucking him back in a knocking rhythm.

They fucked faster. Ishida’s mouth was open and her noises were now one continuous “ahhhhhhhhhhhh.”

This he could handle. A little competition. He felt re-charged with enthusiasm. Since he didn’t have to support his own weight above her, he could put all his strength in his lower body this way. He’d show her. No one had dominion over his cock. He determined its own--

Her hands clenched his shoulders and she growled. Her hair spilled over his face.

He came. He hadn’t planned on it, but he came. He relished his release, though, once it was happening and thrust into her a couple last times. Softening, he fell out of her, and wetness dripped on his thighs.

“Orihime.” He reached to give her that post-coitus kiss, but she hadn’t come yet. Her face was wracked with effort, her upper arms shaking as they still held onto him. She was rubbing her highly stimulated self on his pelvic bone again.

She was trying to say his name but it was coming out as “Uuuu”--a long vowel followed by a spell of heavy breathing. “Uuuu.” She looked at him for help; Ishida knew she wanted help.

A few strokes of his hand and she shook and gasped.  Ishida knew better than to stop. If he kept rubbing her and she was sufficiently aroused, she would come again and again. “Uryuu, Uryuu.” She wasn’t screaming but Ishida could tell that her pleasure was dense and deep. He kept fondling her. He moved his fingers inside--he thought he knew where that spot was now.

She jerked again, less violently than the first time. She fell against his chest. That was it for now.

After those long floating moments in which she caught her breath and Ishida always noticed that the air conditioning in his apartment wasn’t turned on, she lifted her head and kissed him hard on the mouth. It was a dominant kiss. Her tongue swept against his exhaustion and then she pulled out and kissed his cheeks and chin.

Ishida didn’t care.

“I have a cramp,” she said.

Her right leg had fallen asleep from pressing against the couch cushions, and Ishida took it upon himself to massage her thigh back to life.

“Do you think we’re too young?” Orihime asked. “Everyone’s going to think we’re too young to get married.”

“After all we’ve been through together, I don’t think we are, and I would assume that my father would want us to formalize our relationship rather than sneak around.”

“Ah, that feels goooood.” Orihime lay her head back on the couch and seemed to enjoy Ishida’s massaging her sore leg as much as she enjoyed sex. “We have to get married soon. Then we can start saving rent money when I move into this apartment.”

“He’s going to want us to live in the house,” Ishida said in a glum voice. “Would you like to do that?”

She was starting to purr and didn’t hear him.

“I don’t have the money to get us a four-foot tall cake,” he said. “Our wedding won’t be up to Ryuuken’s standards but….”

She sat up in a sudden move. Ishida thought he’d never get used to her sudden moves.

“I know!” she said. “We can make the little dolls to go on the cake. One little me and one little you. We can show off our handicrafts talent. We….” She smiled broadly at him, and Ishida loved her more than anything else in the world. “This way we can both be on top at the same time. Two little people on top of the cake!”

How was it that she and only she made everything alright? How was it that she had made him alright? It was her greatest power. That power felled him. He fell, subject to her benevolent authority, in love with her optimism and unfailing good will, every day and every night.

Life couldn’t get better. He wanted to follow her pun and say that a formal recognition of their relationship in front of family and friends would just be topping on the cake, but he kissed her instead.


END


A/N: I’m going to follow my friend Pixelgoddess’ example and thank my readers personally for their comments on my last story, “The Risky Art of Listening.”  (This piece was just a little porn but I'll write a proper sequel to "Risky Art" soon).I respond on LJ but not so much on other host sites because I don’t know the etiquette exactly. I’m always happy when I get your smart and wonderful comments. When I know people have enjoyed reading a story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it--ah, it’s better than sex. I swear it is. ^^


Syn: That IchiRuki is coming. I swear it is. I just have to get up the nerve to write it without fear of making them OOC.
Laurabryannan: Your feedback always means a lot. I know you know people so I was tickled when when you said my story made psychological sense.
Andrew JP: You crack me up. The Tatsuki/Chizuru one-shot is on my list. I think it will be incredible fun to write
Ileenka: You’re adorable and so sharp. And I hope I can continue making you feel guilty about not liking Orihime! More hormonal Ichigo to come, I’m sure.
Zelha: Yes, let’s cheer on Ishida and his amazing orgasm-summoning skills!
Dungeonwriter: I’m so glad we “met.” I like your analyses of Bleach characters (esp when they match mine! ^^) You’ve got the insight, girl.
Hidden Gems: I’ll try drawing that hand pic if you will? You always give such regular and honest feedback. I appreciate it more than you could know.
Ragingvirgin: Sewing is sexy indeed! And I am sooo tickled when people say my het fic is the first they’ve read in years--or when I get het friends to read my yaoi. I feel like a pusher.
Saintalecto: What can I say? You’ve written me novels! I’m delighted that you like my syntaxes for one (no one’s ever complimented me on them before) and more delighted that you find vanilla het interesting again. It really is--especially with Ishida and Orihime. They’re so weirdly vanilla.
Nextstephem: Glad to hear the POV was okay and I hope my future stories will keep entertaining you.
Grassangel: You read this one more than five times? *is thrilled* And I know you skim over lemons so I’m double-thrilled. Your comments always make me think twice, laugh, and think twice again.
Quaedam: Thank you for loving my Ichigo. I always look forward to what you have to say because you’re so damn wonderful. In appreciation of you, I want to go round up L and Light and toss them in a tied-up bundle at your feet …but I don’t know where they live.
Ivana: IchiRuki coming up sometime, I hope. I’m happy you like my IshiHime.
Biology: Your saying I nailed IchiRuki gives me encouragement to write them. I haven’t dealt with either too much outside of high comedy. They should be challenging (and fun).
Slayerette0: I’ll definitely make it up to Tatsuki. I love her too much. I already wrote one IchiRuki lemon in “Shinigami Wedding Night” so it may be a while before I attempt another, but I’m definitely tackling IchiRuki again as characters.
Alandria7: I’m bad but I like to hear my stories have brought tears to peoples’ eyes!




I'm on pins and needles waiting for chpt 268. Anxiety always makes me write PWPs. More to come!
Tags: ishihime, the topping on the cake
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Comments allowed for members only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 39 comments