Oooohhh, lookatdat! WFROSE is still mindful of FF.net's explicit policy!

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Older'

Ranma sat on Nabiki's bed, unsure of the reason for being in her room, yet... positive of it. He understood what she wanted clearly, he wasn't so foolish as to not comprehend her intentions for the night.

Both anxious while dreading, giddy yet almost terrified, the pigtailed young man wanted to take his mind off of the upcoming events, wanting the fluttering deep within his stomach to dispell, and the nervous energy that enveloped him to disperse, but the very fact that he was sitting on the soft, cushiony bed of hers would not allow him to relenquish the torrid thoughts conjured up by his youthful imagination.

What should he do? Pretend to be casual about it? Should he tell her how much he loved her? What did she expect from him? Just what... *what* was he supposed to do?

The anxiety nearly overwhelmed him, as he quickly stood, and began pacing. Ranma couldn't even keep still, let alone feign comfort at the idea of him... and Nabiki. Everything he wanted to say to express himself sounded so corny even to himself, that he blushed from embarrassment. He... he hadn't done anything like this...

Ranma's ears caught the subtle sound of the doorknob twisting, and the almost too quiet break of the door from the frame. Frozen in terror and anticipation, Ranma turned to find Nabiki noislessly entering. She regarded him closely, as she closed the door behind her, being careful not to allow anything to happen to the bottle of wine or single glass she was carrying.

Ranma didn't understand the expression on her face. It was unreadable, yet expressive; guarded, but open. It was several moments before either of them realized they were simply staring at each other, before Nabiki broke eye contact, and walked over to her bed. Ranma followed her short trip with his eyes, finding a new interest in the blue silk pajammas he had seen her wear often in the past. They moved and swayed with her motion like she was encased in the skin of the ocean; entrancing and soothing in its multitudes of crests and fluidity.

Nabiki moved around to her nightstand, and set the wineglass upon it. She had already opened the bottle of Eiswein in the kitchen, so she wouldn't have to fight with it now. Deities, how she needed a drink immidiately.

Ranma watched her, as she walked back to the foot of her bed, and sat down gracefully, crossing her left leg over the thigh of the right, before motioning Ranma to sit next to her. She watched his nearly robotic movement, before turning her eyes away, and taking a liberal sip from her glass. She kept her eyes downcast, observing the slight ripples flow from the end of the glass away from her.

Ranma watched her face, wishing she would say something, because he was at a loss for any to broach things. It didn't seem like he had anything important or signifigant to start with, and the silence between them was almost deafening.

"Ranma..."

His name, spoken so softly, yet slamming into him and passing out of his being like a bullet. His attention was rapt on whatever may next come from her mouth.

Nabiki favored Ranma with a solumn expression, "I think you know what will happen tonight, in here." Her voice was firmer, demanding his seriousness, while retaining her endearment.

Ranma gave the subtlest of nods, as if afraid or unable to make any more movement. He opened his mouth to speak, but not even a choke could be issued, any sound swallowed up because of his inability to pass air through his throat. Quite simply, he was speechless.

Nabiki took his silence as a sign to move on, "I... I'm comfortable with doing this with you. I do want this..." the corner of Nabiki's mouth twisted up into a faint smirk, "...pretty badly, really."

Ranma nearly jumped out of his skin, when he felt her hand land on his leg; the featherlight press of her fingertips almost seemed to burn through the fabric of his pants, before just about everything else of his body became numb beyond the sensation of her contact. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't like guys didn't do this sort of thing all the time. In fact, if he hadn't always been traveling, and practicing the art, he probably would have been an able vetran at this. Somehow, that knowledge far from assisted him.

"I won't lie, I... missed the touch of a man," Nabiki looked forward, staring off into space, "but I won't pressure you into this, if you don't want to."

Him not wanting to? If he were capable of more complex thought at the moment, that would be the most rediculous thing he had ever heard.

The older woman turned back to him, her eyes burning into his like a mote of flame, "Ranma, are you..." She shifted her eyes for a brief second, "... don't take this the wrong way, but are you a virgin?"

Ranma hadn't quite been granted his voice yet. If he answered her, would she be disappointed? He had come to an understanding that she was experienced, and accepted it along with everything else about her. But, what did that mean for her? Would she be expecting things from him that were beyond his knowledge? His father, even as much a screwup as he often was, proved to be rather stern when it came to Ranma's sexual exposure. He didn't watch much TV, so one of the largest sources of such knowledge, even if often ambiguously. Casual conversations at school yeilded some information, but he considered their 'wisdom' as mostly dismissable, as the conversations always diminished into nuances and innuendos.

That didn't mean he was ignorant of things. It hadn't taken long at all for him to grow accustomed to the thought of Nabiki's body in a sexual manner. The very first night he stayed in her home, she had forgotten his presence, and he caught his first glimpse of the well conditioned and proudly kept body she maintained. It had taken a greatly stoic concentration when he tended to her injury at that time, but the image of her cool, milky white skintone, and the feel of her lavishly smooth legs in his palms remained burned in his memory.

Since then, he had seen her in even less. Their vacation in Kogishima had left him with a very definite account on Nabiki's femeninity. The bathing suit she wore allowed a free reign of his imagination, as he wondered what she would look like without the thin fabric and sparce padding that made up the skimpy outfit she donned. It still didn't compare to the photo he had 'confiscated' from Happosai, of which he would be embarrassed to admit to taking into the bathroom with him on a couple of occations. Now, she was willing to make those fantasies he had indulged in whenever he was assured of his privacy come to reality.

He snapped out of his trance of reverie, realizing her intense gaze bore into him still, calmly yet impatiently awaiting his answer. Looking down at his lap, Ranma flushed brightly, "Y-yes."

Nabiki sipped from her glass again, before offering it to Ranma. The pigtailed boy blinked, but accepted a few tentative sips. The sweet, heady liquid tainted his sense of taste, finding its flavor relaxing in a peculiar manner. Retracting the glass, Nabiki began to massage his thigh with her other hand, wanting him to relax as much as he could, "It's alright, Ranma. I'm actually flattered, to tell you the truth. Do you want me to have it?"

"H-have what?"

"I'm asking if you want me to be your first." Nabiki asked the question as an ego build to herself, secretly wanting to savor the surge of empowerment his reply would send through her. The question also left her vunerable, for if he responded differently...

Ranma almost seemed to make himself smaller, "I... would like that... a-and I don't think I would... you know... with anyone else."

The floaty, intoxicating sensation that started below her sternum, and rose to her heart was almost euphoric. She had known, regardless of any doubts that passed unbidding through her mind, that his answer would be in her favor, but she hadn't anticipated how much more he would admit, or how powerful it would affect her. At that instant, she knew nothing but her want and desire.

Eyes of well aged oak entrapped those of dusk gray, commanding their full attention, ensuring Ranma's eyes never swayed from hers. Ranma's heart stopped at the potent swirl of emotions in Nabiki's eyes; too many for him to identify, but he felt them as if they were his own. If each emotion, each mood, each question that passed between their gazes in such a few scant instances were brought to words, it would become a dictation that would last till eternity.

The hand on his leg rose to softly grasp onto the back of his neck, and the older woman leaned towards him, tilting her head sideways slightly. As her eyeslids slowly sank, so did his, and when their lips met, they both embraced one another. Ranma's arms enveloped Nabiki's waist, as her arm holding the nearly empty glass wrapped around his shoulder. She was the first to open her mouth wider, invoking Ranma to follow suit. The tips of their tongues met, flowing around and against one another like merging waters; tasting their distinctive flavors intermixed with the what subtle lasting taste of the wine remained in their breaths.

Nabiki broke the kiss, wanting it to continue, but wanting to finally go further, at long last move on. She pulled away from Ranma and stood up, relishing his dazed and yearning expression, and gently clasped onto his right hand with her left. She backed away, pulling him with her and urging him to stand, and led him backwards around to the side of the bed where her nightstand was.

She finished off the last of the wine in one smooth gulp, and set the empty glass down. Not too much later after the light clink of the glass's base tapped against the wood of the stand, she sat back on the bed, keeping Ranma in front of her. Her eyes held his gaze, far from finished with their silent yet soulful conversation, as she gently pulled him down to kneeling in front of her.

She leaned back, bracing her hands on the bed to keep herself inclined, before nodding down to her top, and whispering breathlessly, "Unbutton it."

It took Ranma a second to register her request, and fingers that were made dexterious and accurate through years of training in the art clumbsily fumbled with the small round fasteners that held her top closed to him; blue satin curtains that remained shut to the stage and performace promised beyond. He fought down his fustration at his sudden incompotence, also growing embarrassed at his bumbling of such simple mechanics.

Nabiki understood his nervousness, and tenderly took his hands in hers. She began assisting him by steadying his hands, and helped him move them down by each button, one by one. Slowly, bit by bit of her hidden skin became revealed by the slight spreading of her pajamma shirt. She arched her back slightly to assist the fabric's parting, displaying a hint of sapphire blue at an interval within creamy smooth skin. She then directed his slightly trembling hands to benieth the top, allowing him to come in contact with her ribs. She hissed at the way his fingertips brushed against her flesh, and shifted slightly and stifled a gasp at the ticklish sensation that only added to overall tactile experience. The gentle, but inexperienced touch driving her nerve synopses into a pleasant fervor that became an all encomposing heat.

Ranma remained unsure of where to go next, choosing to rub his hands carefully against her sides. He looked up at her, as if asking what to do next. Nabiki did not need a verbal request to understand his silent inquery, "Take it off of me."

Emboldened by her demand, the pigtailed young man moved his hands up past her chest, mentally diciplining himself in order not to become overanxious, and began to...

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Okay, that looks like a perfect place to stop, it just wouldn't do to put the full lemon here, you know? ^_^

But don't worry, I am far from a torturos, spiteful tease, I'm straight out sadistic. So, if you want to find out how you make a lemon without it being trashy, all you have to do is email or AIM me, and grovel before me for the complete lemon, and I shall be merciful...

I'm going to go play Virtua Fighter 4 Evo now, working on inputting four grab escapes in less than a split second, not that the majority of you comprehend what I'm talking about, or understand the exact amount of GODLY SPEED that takes, later!