Chapter One

Ichigo dared not to look at the beauty sitting on his bed for the fear that his boner might return. He concentrated on the metal strings and tuning pegs of his acoustic guitar. His digital tuner had run out of juice. A shame. He'd been tuning for two minutes now as his heart beat a bit too loudly. Lisa still hadn't said a word since her comment on the stairs. He needed to impress her—somehow. This slow display certainly wasn't impressive. He swallowed, a drop of sweat rolling down his neck and chest.

Lisa had moved so silently, so gracefully when she entered he'd almost missed her. She'd only tossed her backpack into the corner and dumped herself onto his bed. She didn't even ask permission. It was his spot. His bed. His nest that he'd jerked off too many times on… and he still hadn't changed the sheets since the last time he'd made a mess. She was sitting right on top of his Hentai stash beneath the mattress. How would she react if she knew those things? He steadied his breath and wiped his sweaty hand on his shirt.

As the last string was tuned he peeked at Lisa at the corner of his eye. She sat lazily against the wall, one knee outstretched and the other against her chest, blocking the view of her crotch. She flashed him that same smirk again, still silent. Those turquoise eyes bored into him like nothing else. No girls at Karakura High had eyes like that—or wore such sexy outfits. In fact, not a single woman in Karakura was like Lisa. Where was she from? Ichigo filed the query into his mind, then recalled a simple jazz piece he'd recently practiced. No lyrics. He wasn't a singer—he didn't have the voice for that.

And so he played, making no mistakes. No imperfections for the perfect girl watching him like a predator. His fingers moved as if someone else was in control as the notes flowed. He let it flow, letting the jazz become his nature. The music started somber, almost mellow, then picked up into a near-cheer. He gave attention to the jazz motifs. Those were important. The notes and chords here and there cascaded one after another, filling the room with the right mood he loved of jazz. He took a risk, looking at Lisa—and choked a cough. His fingers slipped and cut the piece short.

Her panties were in clear view. She'd moved her leg slightly, enough for him to see everything. White, lacy, and semi see-through. He could just make out the outline of her pussy. He tore his gaze away as his erection sprang to life.

"Not bad… Pretty good actually," she said without covering herself. She had to know he could see. There was no way she didn't. He'd stared for a handful of seconds.

He swallowed. "Th-than," he stuttered and coughed purposefully. "Thanks," he said with false confidence.

She smirked yet again. What was with that crooked smirked that suggested so much? He was starting to hate it but love it too. Gods, he was already crushing on her. This was one hell of a night.

She shifted, curling her straight leg so that he now had a wider view. Her skirt rode up higher. What a tease she was. "How long have you played?"

He kept looking at her panties, finding it impossible to meet her eyes. "A few years…" He decided to start playing again. Maybe he should just stop dancing around the point and tell her what he really wanted. She definitely knew.

"You're quite talented then—if you've only played for a few." She put a hand on her thigh. "What's that song called?" she asked as the music slowed.

He shrugged. "Some Spanish name." It was true. He didn't care much for the artist or the name. He only played for the music.

"Hmmm, maybe Shinji would know…"

Shinji?

"You two would get along well."

Shinji was a guy's name, right?

He stopped playing, a cold weight seeping through his chest. This could be someone's hot girlfriend whom he's ogling right now.

"Just a friend."

He felt instantly better. Though he blushed from how easy he was to read. Why did this one girl have such an effect on him when he could ignore all the ones at school? Perhaps it was because she was so different. So forward. "Tch." He looked away. "I didn't care anyway."

She laughed. The sound of her amusement was amazing. Light, creamy, velvety even. He wanted to hear more when she stopped. "How many songs do you know?"

So back to the game then. Though he was indeed enjoying the conversation. "I'd say around two hundred." He wasn't boasting. This guitar had helped him through his torment much more than he let on.

"Two hundred," Lisa said, tilting her head. "All as nice as that one? All jazz?"

So many questions. Was this what a date was like? He certainly felt like was on a date with her—right here in his room. Right here on his cum stained bed. Her leg was touching the spot he'd made a mess at. The thought turned him on like no other. "Yeah, all jazz," he finally said. He began playing again, switching to a slower piece. Girls liked slow, sappy music right? Though Lisa wasn't any ordinary girl. She was still displaying her underwear right in front of him. He tried to sink further into his beanbag chair—as if it would hide the bulge in his pants. At least the guitar was partially in the way.

Why even be embarrassed? She clearly didn't mind.

"Where are you from?" Ichigo asked. The simple melody didn't require as much focus.

"Countryside," she said after a moment. A small twist in her tone told him that was a lie. Or at least not the full truth. He let it drop, deciding that it wasn't a big deal. Girls were weird like that. They'd do strange things he couldn't understand every now and then—apparently Lisa included.

He ended the jazz with a suitable cadence, confidence rising in him. "Nice outfit. I like sailor girls." He tried to mirror the smirk she kept giving him then deliberately looked at her chest and panties.

She laughed a breath. "I can see that." Her hand slipped back onto her thigh, much closer to her panties this time. Her thumb touched the fabric. His face was on fire. "I like Anime-styled clothing. Do you ever watch?"

Ichigo's gaze flickered to under the bed. He'd forgotten about his magazines. "Yeah." A half-truth would suffice. "But mostly Manga."

"Oh? Which ones?"

Shit.

He looked to the shelf—where there were no Manga books whatsoever. Double shit. "Ahhh…" She also looked to the shelf. "The typical ones you know? Dragonball and them. I think Karin took them to camp." He put on his best fake smile.

"Hmph, of course." Her hand inched closer to her panties. Why couldn't she just take them off? He was close to losing his sanity—close to tackling her against the bed. Damn the consequences. She clearly wanted it. But he took a large breath and held on, watching her slow display.

Her stomach rumbled, almost startling Ichigo.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her tummy. "What about you?"

Damn. He was certain she was about to do something extraordinarily erotic. "A bit," he admitted. He had a large chicken wrap for lunch.

"Do you need me to cook?" She gave him a different smirk this time.

He shot her a half-glare. He couldn't scowl at her for more than a few seconds. "Of course not."

"Well, I'm cooking anyway." She jumped off his bed in a single motion that didn't make a sound. Her grace astounded him. She was agiler than his martial arts sensei. "I like to cook my own meals."

"Fine by me." He also stood and prepared to set his guitar back into its case. He wasn't nearly as fluid, clumsy in comparison. He'd need to ask her about that.

She grabbed her backpack and left. "Oh. You might want want to wash your bed sheets. Lots of sweat stains," she said over her shoulder, over-emphasizing the word sweat, before descending the stairs.

She knew! He almost lost balance as the embarrassment rammed into his side. She knew it all and didn't say a word about it. His erection. His cum stained bed. What else did she know? He wouldn't be surprised if she knew about his Hentai Manga as well, simply out of intuition. And yet… she put on such a show for him, wearing those scandalous panties and spreading her legs for the world to see. The curtains weren't even pulled over the windows. Endless glee began to pull at his face. This was a once in a lifetime chance to meet a girl like this, only a bit older than he. A one in a million girl as horny as he. Though unfortunately, his inexperience was showing—and it was obvious. He'd need to let her take the lead or else risk losing her, which meant playing along with this charade.

"Wow," he breathed and stowed his guitar and case into his closet. He stretched his arms and back, going through his martial arts routine, to make sure this wasn't a dream of course. He jumped, touching the ceiling, and pinched his side for extra measure. "Damn. That really happened." It wasn't a wet dream.

Letting his erection calm before heading down, he grabbed a fresh shirt, pair of jeans, and an alcoholic wipe to freshen his sweaty body. He was beginning to stink. Lisa wouldn't like that. But how would he know? Maybe she had a hundred fetishes on top of being an exhibitionist. Nevertheless, he wiped himself down and pulled on the clean clothing as quickly as he could. He checked his hair and face in a mirror before leaving the room.

The stairs creaked as usual. Strange. It didn't creak when Lisa walked on it. He filed the thought away with his other questions for her, even if it was as insignificant as this. He genuinely liked conversing with her about their surprisingly shared interests.

When he entered the kitchen and took in the sight he almost lost balance. Lisa stood behind the bench, chopping onions with that strange grace, in a cute lacy apron. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her sailor outfit and panties were on one of the dining table chairs, neatly folded. Was this still part of the charade? Ichigo gulped and took a loud step forward onto the polished tiles. She glanced up for a second, then resumed chopping.

"Help with the rice, kay?"

Ichigo nodded and walked to the cabinet as carefully as possible. This game of hers would surely cost him his sanity. "What are we making?"

"Stir fry with eggs and chicken. It was all that was left in your fridge. We'll have to go shopping tomorrow."

"Right." It was all he could say.

He collected a couple of cupfuls of rice and few spoons of spices, then headed to the sink—next to Lisa. He took a deep breath as he passed her from behind.

What an ass she had!

He lost it. With his free hand, he grabbed her behind, grabbing a cheek-full of her firm but soft flesh. It felt better than he had ever imagined. He pushed his waist against her and humped once with his bulging jeans. He was about to put the bowl of rice onto the bench to free his other hand when she spoke. "That rice isn't going to wash itself." She glanced back at him. That same seductive smirk was plastered over her face. She lightly pushed at his chest. An unfamiliar force made him step back.

The hell was that? Did he imagine that?

"Fine." He growled and snatched up the rice bowl. "Slut," he whispered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I like your apron." It was coming to him naturally now.

"I can definitely feel it." She chuckled.

He returned the chuckle—It sounded natural enough. As Ichigo cleaned the rice of impurities, he took liberal glances at the side of her figure. She was very slender and fit, slightly muscular but not overly so. Extremely attractive. Her breasts were full—C cup at least. She was just his type. He grinned and gently bumped her side. She returned the bump.

They cooked in relative silence, occasionally chatting about the food and their various tastes. She liked the typical Japanese diet and pretty much always cooked. Cooking relaxed her and cleared her mind in a way, similar to Ichigo. He also tried to look down her apron, or get a glance of her pussy, but every time he was in view she seemed to have a sixth sense and shift her stance. The arousal was burning his insides more every minute. He should have jerked off before coming down. Too late now.

At one point she had to bend over to take a frying pan out of the bottom drawer. He tried his best to find a good view but she crouched in a way that prevented it. Then a minute later she knocked a knife to the ground on her right, and she bent over in a way that would let him see everything. Before he had a full view of her pussy and ass, that weird force barrelled down on him, tripping his stance. He crumpled into onto the tiles. "Alright!" he barked. "What the hell was that! I know you did something!" He jumped to his feet, half enraged, half horny. He was on the verge of throwing himself at her and fucking her very roughly.

She dropped the pan onto the of the stove, turning down the heat, and looked at him. Her eyes twinkled above the flames. "It's called spiritual pressure. Few of us from the countryside are talented with it."

"Spiritual what?"

"Pressure. A manifestation of spirit energy. Everyone has it, just in different amounts. You have quite a bit, which is quite rare, leaking it now in fact." She dumped the onions into the pan.

"The hell? I've never heard of such a thing."

"Really?" she said coyly.

"Really." He was calmer now, his anger having canceled out some of his arousal. Though he still wanted to ravish her body.

"Well, it's a thing. Trust me." She turned the stove back to max and added the egg. A moment later she beckoned for Ichigo's rice. He passed it to her without a word—their fingers brushed and a spark of electricity shot up his bones. "Feel that?"

"Yeah." He flexed his fingers as his nerves calmed.

"Tell me more about it." He really wanted to know. This was amazing. She was amazing.

She dumped the rest of the vegetables into the pan, along with sauces and spice. "Maybe later. I'm hungry."

She was also infuriating. "Fine. Promise though?" He gave her a genuine look of need. He needed this power—The power to protect. He vowed to protect his remaining family from anything. "Promise?"

"I dunno… I don't usually make promises." She spooned a sample of the meal.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned close to her ear, close enough to kiss. Her vanilla scent assaulted his senses. "Promise to teach me and I promise to make you orgasm more than any other guy ever could." It was his best shot—his only offering to this incredible goddess that appeared on his doorstep. It was as if she was from another world, another dimension right out of his Hentai magazines. She was his dream come true. How the hell did old Goat-Chin know her? Ichigo needed to get to the bottom of this.

Seconds ticked away. The stir-fry sizzled. She was still frozen.

"Alright," she said. "You better." Her tone was light.

"Thank you." He couldn't thank her enough. Ever.

"Though I was going to anyway. You're too interesting to pass up." She patted his cheek.

"Tch," he huffed, then took a spoonful of their meal. It was pretty good.

"Like it?"

"Yeah."

Lisa turned off the fire and divided the meal into two plates. Without another glance at Ichigo, she strutted to the dinner table and set the meals and cutlery. "Then eat up!" she said without turning around.

"Right." As he approached, she undid her apron, propping up his hopes that she'd eat in the nude, but then pulled the sailor outfit over her head and stepped into her panties.

She didn't put the skirt back on though.

"Little slut," Ichigo whispered. "I'll fill you up and make you cum ten times tonight."

"Make that eleven."

He almost grabbed her right there. He joined her on the other side of the table and started eating, exchanging lust-filled looks every few mouthfuls.

A/N

Pls follow and review! All feedback welcome!