Beg
Ichigo liked it when she begged.
Like now, for instance. Her wrists were lashed together at the center of the headboard, and she was on her knees, bent parallel to the ground, pendulous breasts hanging free, red-brown hair like a waterfall over her shoulder. Her toes made little bunches inside her striped socks as she clenched and unclenched them. Her body shook from little sobs of need, each one jiggling her massive breasts. Drops of sweat slid down them to drip from her thick nipples.
"Please," she moaned. "Ichigo, don't stop!" Her voice cracked on the last word. "I need - I need to finish - I need you to finish me - please Ichigo don't leave me like this!"
His open hand came around to catch her on her ample rump with a thwack!
Orihime bucked and gave a sharp cry of tormented bliss. "Now, now, Ichigo, I want you now!" she cried. He spanked her again, and she made a choking noise as tears spilled from between her closed lids. "Oooooh!"
She gasped for breath, and finally said those words he'd been waiting to hear, the words she would only say when half-out-of-her-mind with desperation and the heat of sex: "Fuck me, Ichigo! Fuck me!"
With a smirk, Ichigo slid his throbbing member into his bedraggled lover's slit. Orihime gasped, then moaned as he stretched her walls around his thick cock. Ichigo gave a quiet grunt as her tight passage squeezed around his head. He slid the whole length of him smoothly inside her, except for the last inch. This he slammed into her with a quick thrust, enjoying her scream as he roughly hit that spot deep inside of her.
Ichigo set his hands at her hips, his long fingers sinking into her soft white flesh. Tightening his grip, he drew out from her and slammed in again, the slap of flesh a low note that harmonized with Orihime's high cry of pleasure. His thrusts quickly built to a faster tempo, engendering a white heat at their joining. Orihime's back arched beneath his sensual onslaught, her heavy breasts slapping against her chest like waves on the shore with every one of his powerful thrusts.
"Aaaah! Aaaaaah! Aaaaaaaah!" she cried as he brought her closer to orgasm. Then, at last, something within her snapped and a torrent of white-hot pleasure crashed through her. She let loose a high scream of satiation as every muscle on her frame tightened, the leather cord that bound her wrists creaking as she pulled it to its limit. After what seemed like an eternity but was over all too quickly, her climax passed and she sagged onto the bed, body suffused with a golden languor. She shifted, savoring the rub of the sheets against her still-engorged nipples.
Ichigo slid his still-rigid member from her, looking down at her flushed, supple skin, the rise and fall of her back as she breathed. She looked over her shoulder at him, her grey eyes sparkling. She gave him a nervous smile, as if they had just shared a secret, and he answered it with a confident smile of his own. Orihime grinned, drawing some assurance from his warmth, and rolled onto her side. Ichigo leaned forwards and unbound her wrists, and she pillowed them beneath her head at once with a sigh of happiness. Her eyes closed in sleep. Ichigo watched her for a moment longer, feeling a rush of almost paternal affection, and then sighed. Orihime was any man's wildest erotic dream come true, but he couldn't help wishing she had a bit more stamina. This was getting to be a habit.
He reached over and tapped Tatsuki on the head. "Whazza?" the black-haired girl mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She looked over at Orihime, then at Ichigo. "She finish before you again?" she asked.
"Yeah," Ichigo said, in a long-suffering tone. He gestured at his livid cock, veins standing out on it like pipes. "Would you mind..."
"C'mere," Tatsuki said, and without preamble took him into her mouth. As Ichigo's hands found a place in her tangled hair, he took a moment to be profoundly thankful for the women in his life.