"I've got something I made in the refrigerator, that might help. What do you think? Want to try it?" she asked, kneeling next to him at her low kitchen table where they had been studying.

Ichigo was completely gobsmacked. "Inoue, I'm not sure I understood. Did you just say you want to-?"

"If your back hurts that much, then you won't be able to concentrate on this anyway. I promise it will feel really nice," she said, her huge brown eyes seeming to swallow him up in their depths.

"Uh, well yeah, Inoue, but I mean... Are you sure?" Ichigo stammered. He knew she loved to experiment with food. Apparently, that meant experimenting on him, too. Ichigo hoped it wasn't horrible, like sardines with cheese and red bean paste or something. He could usually salvage some of what she cooked by scraping off the toppings, but occasionally she came up with a truly terrifying concoction. This time it was supposedly edible and medicinal.

She smiled, gesturing to the corner where a futon was already laid out. "Just relax, Kurosaki-kun. I'll just dab a bit here and there and rub it in. If you don't like it we can stop."

"Okay, just nothing smelly." He started unbuttoning his shirt nervously. It was only a back massage, is wasn't like she was going to give him head. He winced, trying to exterminate the notion from his mind. Straight into the gutter, Kurosaki. He was fairly certain of his feelings toward Inoue now, but he had no idea if she was on the same page. With even less of an idea of how to get her there - though this might be a start.

"Oh it smells as good as it tastes," she said rummaging around in her tiny refrigerator producing a small glass jar of yellow-green, spreadable something. Ichigo managed to keep his face neutral and not complain. There was no telling what was in that container, only that it was Inoue's handiwork, which meant it was to be approached with extreme caution.

"Have you used it for something like this before?" he asked, and went over to sit on the futon which had a purple coverlet and reeked of soft pretty female. He kept his shirt on, though it was open; he could still stop this, his shoulders weren't knotted up that bad.

"Tatsuki likes it, especially after a long practice. And then later I put it on crackers or toast and we watch talk shows together," Inoue giggled.

"Oh, well if she likes it." Ichigo shrugged and really hoped it wasn't one of those times when she had been humoring Inoue.

She came over and knelt next to him, giving him a soft smile and tugging the front of his shirt. He blushed and slipped it off quickly, undershirt following, flopping down, now fairly drowning in Inoue-scent. Ichigo rested his chin on his hands and tried to relax, but the more he thought about it, the more nervous he became waiting for her to touch him.

"Kurosaki-kun, are you okay? You're breathing a little fast," she said, and touched his back tentatively. The muscles in that spot jumped, the light stroke rippling across his nerves and making his whole body quiver – and now he was sporting an erection. Just great.

"It's fine, go ahead." He didn't look at her, fairly certain his thoughts would be betrayed.

When she finally opened the jar and he got a whiff, Ichigo decided the nameless goop was not as abominable as some of the things Inoue had come up with. He was certain he could smell banana, soy sauce, and avocado, along with some other fruits or vegetables, maybe seaweed or cucumber. It was cold and slippery on his skin and Inoue's fingers were firm and steady and warmed quickly.

This felt much more than nice, and as hard as he tried he couldn't manage to hold back all of his appreciative feelings, making little groans and moaning noises that he knew would sound erotic if the wrong person overheard.

"You sound like you're enjoying this. I guess you want me to keep going?" Inoue didn't stop rubbing his back, but the pressure of her fingers lessened for a moment.

"Yes," he breathed. "If you stop I'll never forgive you."

She laughed, he heard her lips smack and he thought she must have she licked one of her fingers. "Really? It's a shame you're not wearing shorts. I could do your legs, too."

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you, Inoue?" he mumbled into his folded arms.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just keep going." He was going to need a long cold shower after this.

"Mmm, okay," she said, and went back to work, dissolving his tension and rendering him into a mewling puddle of man. He could only wonder what having her seduce him might feel like. Was there really a greater plateau of pleasure that could be reached? He supposed he could take the initiative, and show her how much he appreciated her.

But by the time his mind was coherent enough to form the thought, he realized he was feeling something besides her hands on his back. Her thumbs were digging into a knot near his lower back, while quick warm strokes tickled across his shoulder blades, then alternating to slippery and slow at his spine. Inoue was licking him.

"Inoue?"

"Mmm, I couldn't resist. And you taste so yummy Kurosaki-kun," she said, using a slightly huskier voice than the perky one he was used to. He got the feeling she was as into this as he was.

Ichigo pinched himself on the off chance he'd fallen asleep and was now in a very vivid, elaborate fantasy. Ow. "Uh, really?" Lame. Inoue kept going, and he didn't stop her. He didn't move either until she got to his side and started doing something a little different, more like licking and sucking in succession, and it felt extremely good. He was moaning much louder than before.

It was too much. He flipped over and stared up at her. Inoue's mouth was bright pink and she had a little of the green stuff on her cheek. "This side, too," he said, pointing at his bare chest.

She licked her lips, and dipped her fingers back in the jar. It wasn't too hard to figure out that she wrote something on his chest, and then laved it off with her tongue. He swore what she traced was Sexy Ichigo. The second time she wrote across his abdomen. Slowly she copied the characters for I want you, looking up at him the whole time as her tongue tickled at his abs.

He pulled her up to him sharply and held her there, so that they were eye to eye and her upper body was almost draped over his. "How far are you planning to take this, Inoue?" If he hadn't stopped her, the next phrase would have been under his belly button.

"As far as it goes," she said, her eyes stayed locked with his and neither one of them moved.

Ichigo's curiosity got the better of him. "You are way too good. Where did you learn to-"

"Um, I'm just imagining what I want you to do to me," Inoue said, looking a little ashamed.

"Fine then. Your turn. Take your shirt off." Ichigo sat up and took the container of mashed fruit salad or whatever the heck it was from her. He dabbed a little on his tongue. Even though it looked disgusting it didn't taste bad, a little on the sweet side for him. When he glanced back up, Inoue already had her school blouse off and was reaching back to unhook her bra.

He dropped the jar, and promptly forgot about it.