Helping Hand
Warning: This story contains a mature theme. If you are under eighteen years old or you are mentally under eighteen years old. Do click on the back button, forget you saw this story and well, continue reading those K-T rated stories you have been reading until you've stumbled upon the rating's filter and saw Rated M. If you are not mentally capacitated to read this kind of story: please, do not continue reading.
A friendly reminder from the author: bickeringgibberish.
Author's notes: So, I've been really thinking of writing a smut story between Mikan and Natsume, and this plot just came into my mind as I was reading a manga. (A girl is pressed up against a man in a train, but it doesn't have anything to do with the plot.)
One: Unexpected Visitor
-o-
SLAM!
Hyuuga Natsume infuriately slammed the front door close without a damn about his housemate (not that she was there in the first place, it was Friday—surely she had somewhere to go to). He had been utterly pissed, thinking that his Friday night would be just like every Friday night he has stumbled across but the day went bad to worst.
The promise of a fulfilling night shattered when his date (or slut for the night, or whore, or fuck buddy, or… well, the list goes on and on) canceled. Yes, you read that right, his date canceled on him. Him, The Hyuuga Natsume, most sought after bachelor in Tokyo. His ego got bruised so bad, he almost upturned the table and stabbed the maitre d' who informed him about his date's cancelation. (See the nerve of that woman? She didn't talk to him in person, she chose to let the maitre d' deliver the message to him.) Being a gentleman as his persona, he sucked it up (sucked it up good), gave the maitre d' in Appétissant, a famous French restaurant in the food district of Tokyo, a benign smile and left with grace.
He could've called another woman from his phone but decided not to. True, he was in the mood for a shag with some socialite but calling another woman due to the cause of being denied by another one (he mentally noted to make that woman, I think her name is Aya, suffer.) was not his style.
In the end he was back in his flat. Not even tipsy, still with a level-head and still in the mood for sex. He is Hyuuga Natsume for God's sake. He could get any woman out there with a single smirk or wink, and now here he was to where it started—alone, without even a bimbo by his side. Okay, a bimbo is not on top of his list—but desperate times call for desperate measures. If he needs to pay for his pleasure so be it. He took his phone out and searched through his contacts, he found one: a girl named Mizu.
He met her in one of the clubs Koko frequently visits. A redhead vixen with those bouncy breasts and a figure to die for. She wasn't intellectual or at the very least aware of their country's economical status but what the hell? You don't need a woman to tell you while you pound into her relentlessly that the clitoris has eight thousand nerve endings. It would be too weird and—
He sighed, for goodness sake. He can even think of these things during this time? He needed a decent fuck, dammit. Decent enough to pull him out of silly thoughts. He glanced at his phone again and thought about the woman he was about to call, could she be busy at this time? With another man? Having a good time in the dance floor? Is she on her period? He doesn't like periods—nor fucking girls while they were on their periods…
"Oh fuck it." he cursed, chucking his phone towards the wall. He ran a hand through his face and grunted. His mind, what is wrong with his mind?
He is seriously considering wanking off right now. He pulled himself out of his reverie and glanced at his crotch, he was ready.
He needed it.
He wanted it.
He needed release, and since there is no willing party around might as well just jack off, right?
And those silk boxers of his came down.
-o-
Lying down on his bed and staring at his ceiling, his hand leisurely made its way down his private part. Lately, jacking off had not been an option since women were plenty and hotel rooms were available at his own expense.
He fervently hoped that his housemate, Sakura Mikan, would not wake up due to the ruckus he is causing at the moment. It would be too awkward and hell embarrassing if she finds him in this provocative position, accompanied by his—er—matching sound effects. He shut his eyes and took a comfortable position in bed, he started off slowly, light touches, and moderate squeezes in the most sensitive part of his anatomy.
His imagination wasn't working tonight, he decided. His mind's eye was complete darkness except for those annoying stars scattering his vision. He hoped to see a woman in his mind's eye: pliant and willing for his enslavement, her curly blonde hair scattered across the bed, her perky breasts up in the air with every heave of breath she takes, her swollen mouth agape, her eyes locked on his engorged length—damn. He lost the image. He snapped his eyes open and frowned deeply. This night really isn't one of the best nights of his life.
He absently continued with his stroking and shut his eyes, praying for something to trigger his imagination to start working. Anything.
He wasn't even close to climax. His mind had been wandering off all night: His damned date. His unfortunate situation resulting to this action—this fucked up night. He squeezed his eyes shut and released a strangled groan before deciding to let go of his cock. His eyes snapped open again to glare at his ceiling. Since when did getting laid become so difficult? Was he being punished because of the way he treats those women he fucked? He was decent enough to send them gifts after their shared night and a note saying he'll call them. Why can't he even pleasure his own self?
He grunted in annoyance before chucking one of his pillows as far as he could. He craned his neck and saw it hit the adjacent wall and dropped down with a thump. This is the most boring day of his life.
Deciding to just sleep off this failure of his, he turned to the side and shut his eyes. Moments later he heard his door creak open. At first he ignored it, thinking it was only a dirty trick his mind is playing. But when he heard footsteps in his own room, he decided otherwise. The only person who would enter his room without knocking is Mikan. He secretly wished it would be her—who knows maybe her presence may—
He felt someone sit at the foot of his bed. He kept still and pretended to be asleep. That was until a tentative hand grasped his ankle.
"Wha-?" he put himself in an upright position as he stared at her, Sakura Mikan, his roommate in flesh. "What are you doing here, Polka? You aren't—" she crawled towards him, her eyes fixed on his crimson one's.
"Shhh…" she placed her forefinger on his lips first, and then trailed downwards to his jaw, neck. His Adam's apple bobbed, he caught her hand in his and gave her a level stare, "You shouldn't be here." He said. She gave him a Cheshire smile, making his cock twitch painfully in his boxers.
Her hand slipped under the blanket, "Don't—" He grasped her small hand. His eyes wild and frantic.
"Shhh…" she murmured again, "let me do this for you." A small smile was pasted on her face, her nimble fingers feeling him through his boxer shorts. He kept his eyes on her, watching as her eyes widen as her fingers explored him.
He sucked in a deep breath as he felt her fingers grasp him. She was looking at his face, waiting for an expression to cross his features, for him to say anything. But all he could do was stare and grip tightly on his bed sheets. She met his eyes as she stroked softly, his grip tightened more at her exploration. He wanted to beg her to move faster, to stroke him harder, but he could not speak. He was too overwhelmed. He released a soft groan as he gave her a lustful look. She swallowed and fixed her eyes on the spot underneath the blanket where her hand was moving up and down. He watched too, eyes transfixed on the spot, his mind building up images of her hand.
His eyes rolled back in pleasure, hand clamping into the sheets of his bed. "Ugh—Mikan." He choked out a groan when she squeezed his member tighter, her strokes becoming more urgent as if reading his mind. He could feel his organ twitching with every stroke and feel his own essence oozing out slowly.
If only she could put him inside her mouth—he would certainly lose his mind. As if the gods heard his prayers, Mikan lowered her head and pressed soft kisses on his exposed abdomen. His breath hitched again, being caught up by Mikan's actions. Her hand continued its business, alternating from soft strokes to hard ones.
He threw his head back as he felt hot puffs of her breath travel from his flat plane of a stomach to his private part. He really wanted this but he was secretly afraid of what could happen, she may back out, run away and never look at him after this encounter and he didn't want that.
"God, Mikan—don't…" too late, he felt the first flick of her tongue on his cock and he lost it. It was as gentle as a breeze in a spring day, too gentle—too much torturous to his needy body. He wanted more. More.
Her hand was situated at the base of his cock, her lips peppering kisses on his length, her tongue flicking out time to time, tasting his flesh, feeling him up. Slowly, her mouth enclosed the head of his member for a fraction of a second before sucking it off with soft pops. She was taking her time, gradually taking him inch by inch, relishing and divulging herself in this delicacy. He gasped out loud when he felt her teeth scrape against his flesh. It was torture.
He shut his eyes harder, mouth hanging open as she bobbed her head up and down, taking him in completely. He bucked his hips up, thrusting into her mouth, "Faster, faster, Mikan." He coaxed, " Do me faster." He felt her hands brace herself on his thighs, steadying herself as she continued her actions. Her mouth was soft and hot, her tongue caressing the underside of his shaft and his exposed skin in every way possible. He wanted this, he wanted her. He pictured her sprawled on his bed, her legs wide open, ready for him. He surged forward, thrusting into her tight and hot cunt, driving hard into her, hearing her scream against his ear, her nails clawing through his back…
His orgasm came quickly, black spots appeared in his vision as he arched off his bed, and a loud grunt escaping his lips as his hand pushed her deeper, willing her to swallow his essence. He heard her muffled groan, felt her choke on him as she did as he wanted.
He panted and wiped the sweat off his brow. As much as he did not want to admit it, Polka did a great job on relieving him. He actually thought that she was the type of woman who is shy and inexperienced—but boy, she proved otherwise. He felt her breath on his inner thigh and he tensed. If she continues to stay there, he was quite sure that there would be a round two—or they could finish it off.
Fortunately, Mikan slipped off him and pulled the blanket off her head. She looked spent and tousled, in his opinion, her lips were swollen and sweat covered her face. She licked her lips and stared at him.
"Uh…" He watched her wipe her mouth using the back of her hand. She combed her untamed hair and yanked the hem of her shirt down. She was standing up now. Her amber eyes fixed on a spot on his wall. "Gotta go." He watched her slip out of his room with a faint click, her footsteps soft on the floorboards.
He took in deep breaths, unable to speak and too shocked about what just transpired between them. Sakura Mikan, one of his oldest and closest friends, just gave him a blow job.
-o-
Author's notes:Ah, such a cliffhanger. I am working on my Smut writing. Even though I have read hundreds of them, I still can't get a hold of the right technique of writing an M-rated story. Thanks for reading guys!
Oh, and Hi to Annaoj! IDK if you read my M stories but I know you are a fan of smuts *ehem* so stop being such a hypocrite. I love you!
TBC