Hi again everyone! Happy Halloween! I decided to give you all a little treat since its one of my favorite holidays. And what better way to celebrate than with some pure, sweet smut with my favorite OTP? This is a PWP folks, hope you enjoy.
Dressing up as a mummy for Halloween had been his most ingenious idea ever.
Yes, truly it had been a stroke of genius, ranking right behind the Hougyoku and that strange branch of quantum mechanics he invented when he was fourteen. Granted, the idea wasn't anything new, wasn't anything original, but the sheer practical use of this costume was what set it apart from other regalia. And, okay, maybe it was kind of hard to use the bathroom when you were wrapped up in a dozen layers of dyed muslin strips, but that didn't matter either…under the circumstances…
A loud peal of drunken laughter outside the coatroom he was currently hidden away in drew his attention momentarily, his unfocused gray eyes flicking towards the door warily. Had he remembered to lock it when the two of them had tumbled in? He couldn't remember. But even the danger of getting caught in such a compromising position wasn't enough to keep his concentration away from his current undertaking for long, and within seconds he was looking back down at the beautiful young man who was kneeling in front of him.
"Ichigo," he breathed out huskily, reaching forward to entangle his fingers in the bushy orange hair and tug his head closer. "Just like that…"
Ichigo smirked up at him, pink tongue glancing out to lick at the tip of Urahara's cock, brown eyes playful and dark. Prickling arousal rushed through Kisuke's body, making his thighs shake as trussed hands reached behind his cock to cup his balls, fondling them gently as his erection was unceremoniously consumed by Ichigo's mouth. And thus was the brilliance of the mummy costume…you had plenty of fabric to tie someone's hands up with.
The younger man's bound hands left Kisuke's skin and traveled downward; reaching awkwardly under the ruffled skirt he was wearing in an attempt to touch himself. The act made Kisuke grin through his pleasure, once more admiring Ichigo's creamy thighs protruding sexily from the feminine creation he had been forced to wear to this year's costume party. Kisuke couldn't have been luckier than when he'd won a running bet with his lover (yes, Yumichika was straight) and demanded Ichigo wear a delicate white wedding dress with a sinfully short skirt, enjoying every single solitary sway of his barely concealed ass. Surely the gods were on Kisuke's side tonight.
Urahara tugged sharply at the end of the fabric tying Ichigo's wrists together, bringing them back out into the open with a groan. He didn't want the redhead getting overly excited and ending the moment too soon, even though Ichigo's stamina was surprisingly high for someone who was so new to sex. Regardless, Kisuke liked the feeling of power it gave him, the sensation that he could do pretty much whatever he wanted to the sweet creature blushing brilliantly between his legs. Of course, he'd never actually do half the lusty, dirty things his mind envisioned, but there would be plenty of time for those kinks on a later day.
Teeth scraping teasingly against the underside of his cock brought his attention once more to the present, his hips bucking forward without consent, stretching Ichigo's mouth a little wider to accommodate the push. The younger man moaned around his flesh, his tied hands once more reaching up to wrap around the base of Kisuke's erection and stroke in conjunction with his bobbing head, drawing increasingly louder moans from Urahara's throat. Truly, the once-innocent youth was a natural at this. A born giver of insane pleasure.
"Draw me out…fuck…draw it out Ichigo." Kisuke's mummified head fell back against the wall with a thud, a few stray pieces of fabric falling over his eyes to partially block his vision. But that didn't prevent him from seeing the way Ichigo's cheeks were hollowed out in suction or the faint trembling of his hands against Urahara's cock. It didn't stop him from noticing the way the scent of sex was invading the air, the sweat beading underneath his mummy wrappings, or the pressure building up in his abdomen that signified his coming release. No, he could feel that just fine.
But he didn't want it to be over just yet…
"Stop," he whispered, pulling gently at Ichigo's hair in an attempt to get his point across. When the young man continued his assault on Kisuke's cock he jerked harder, cursing loudly at the sensation of teeth scraping up the entire length of his arousal before lips dislodged from his body with a wet, sticky pop. Fantastic.
Drawing Ichigo up to face him by the strips around his wrists, he fused their lips together with a wanton moan, dipping his tongue into the younger man's mouth without inhibition. Absolutely decadent. The more they did this, the more they indulged in each other's desires and needs, the more addicted Kisuke became. Each time he sunk his cock into Ichigo's tight body was like another piece of him dying off, each lusty cry from kiss-swollen lips driving him further into a place he knew he could never return from. It was the greatest intoxication, the ultimate deadly nightshade hanging heavy on the vine, beautiful and poisonous and compulsive.
He grabbed Ichigo's arms and looped them over his head, pleased when he was pulled flush against the younger man's body, his cock meeting the soft fabric of the lacy wedding dress clinging to Ichigo's belly. Kisuke's hands trailed teasingly down his back to dive under the skirt and knead at the silken-covered cheeks he found beneath it, smiling when his actions were met with a breathy moan. Fingernails digging sharply into the exposed skin, he gripped the flesh firmly in his hands and splayed Ichigo's ass wide, feeling a spasm go straight to his dick when he imagined himself plunging between the cheeks spread hotly in his palms.
"You make such a enchanting blushing bride," Kisuke whispered into Ichigo's mouth, licking at his bottom lip slowly before flipping them around and turning the younger man towards the wall.
"Maybe, but I'm not a virgin." Ichigo winked over his shoulder, spreading his stockinged legs a little wider, lips parted breathlessly. "Should I really be wearing white?"
Kisuke snickered and shook his head, going to his knees so that he was eye-level with what had to be the most magnificent ass the gods had ever created. His hands snaked up Ichigo's thighs, running his fingertips along the top of the thigh high stockings, snapping the straps of the garter belt that lay still hidden under the folds of fabric. They smacked smartly against the tanned skin with a satisfying slap, the flesh instantly turning a rosy pink where it was impacted. Kisuke's tongue came out soon afterwards to sooth the sting, all the while shoving the flowing ruffles of skirt up to his lover's waist and dragging the silk panties down to Ichigo's knees where he allowed them to remain.
"You can wear whatever you want," Kisuke murmured. Not giving the conversation any more of his attention, he leaned forward and ran his tongue across one of Ichigo's cheeks, biting down until there was a perfect imprint of his teeth in the skin. Though he wasn't an overly possessive man, he did love the sight of love bites all over the redhead's limbs. It gave him a wicked thrill to mark Ichigo as his own. His Ichigo. His lover. His only one. The only person in the world he'd ever wanted so badly that he'd fuck them in the middle of a masquerade party with people standing probably twenty feet away. All inhibitions were thrown to the wind with this beautiful youth, and Kisuke could honestly say that he'd never felt younger.
Above him Ichigo cursed sharply, leaning his forehead against the wall, still-bound hands clenched tightly next to his face. Those same hands began to shake almost violently when Kisuke's tongue teased along the edge of his exposed opening, not wasting any time before pushing inside, coming back out, and sinking back in. Ichigo's knees buckled slightly when Urahara twisted his tongue against his inner muscles, reaching up to hold the younger man steady around the waist to prevent him from falling. Wouldn't do to have him breaking a leg or knocking himself out, would it?
Kisuke kept at it for another minute or so until Ichigo started turning into a shivering mess, making low desperate noises in his throat that could simply not be ignored and steadily rolling his ass against Urahara's face. Wanting to give his lover what he so desperately desired, Kisuke quickly coated his fingers with saliva and began pumping them into his waiting body, curling them to hit Ichigo's prostate with deliberate precision. Urgent moans filled the air, and before long one arm was no longer able to keep the lean body upright and Kisuke withdrew his fingers, standing up to turn Ichigo around and untie his wrists.
"Can't…can't believe we're doing this," Ichigo panted, allowing Kisuke to push his back firmly against the wall, their lips finding each other's in a wet, messy kiss. "Gonna get caught…"
"Don't care," Kisuke responded just as breathlessly, slapping at Ichigo's thighs a few times to urge him into raising his legs and allowing Kisuke to hold his weight. Before doing that however, Urahara reached down and grabbed his own cock, covering it with spit and precome, the friction of his palm against his leaking erection making him curse a few times. Closing his eyes, he sucked in numerous deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down lest he begin pumping himself in earnest and spoil the moment.
He needed to get inside Ichigo before he completely lost control of himself.
Long legs covered in delicate lace wrapped around his hips and clamped down like a vice, Ichigo's eyes showing the first bits of uncertainty that he'd displayed all night as he wrapped his arms around Urahara's neck. Kisuke leaned forward to kiss away the anxiety, nibbling gently at plum-colored lips as his hands moved to cup Ichigo's ass and angle his hips forward. It wasn't exactly easy holding such a tall man up in a position like this, but Urahara was determined to make it work, pinning the redhead against the wall with his body weight and splaying his fingers against his thighs for more leverage. It wasn't as though they were going to be in this stance long anyway…neither one of them was going to last.
Ichigo squirmed deliciously against him, rolling his hips in a gentle rhythm towards Kisuke's body and letting his head fall backwards against the wooden wall of the coatroom to expose the long lines of his unspoiled neck. Perfect surrender. Kisuke couldn't help but suck a hard line up that throat; the sinful offer too much to refuse, to enticing to pass up. When he pulled his lips away bruises were already blossoming across the once-flawless skin, Ichigo moaning on each breath, his voice a sweet melody of desire and longing. So magnificent.
The tiny pink roses that had been pinned in Ichigo's hair fell to the floor as his body was breached, the head of Urahara's cock slipping past the first tight ring of muscle and into the waiting heat beyond. Gods…so tight…so good. Loudly, Ichigo moaned out Kisuke's name, burying his face in his shoulder so that Urahara could feel the pulse of unsteady breath across his shoulder blade. He paused momentarily before pushing in further, not stopping until he felt his balls brush against the cheeks of Ichigo's ass.
"Fuck," Ichigo whispered, his voice caught somewhere between pleasure and pain. He lifted his head and smiled mischievously, pulling a few of the mummy bandages from Kisuke's head to wrap them around his eyes, completely cutting off Urahara's vision. At first he found himself slightly unbalanced, strangely out of sorts, but when he heard the filthy demands being whispered in his ear he threw aside his worry and slammed upwards, hearing the sound of Ichigo's pretty dress catching and tearing against the wood at his back.
It had often been said that when one sense is cut off that the rest heighten to take its place, and the same could be said here. Where once he might have looked at Ichigo's face flushed with passion, now he could only hear his voice, feel his body wound tight around his cock, smell the salty tang of precome smeared all over his thighs. Each thrust was enhanced by Kisuke's lack of eyesight, each blind kiss superior to the next as they moaned and grunted into each other's mouths. His skin felt hyper-sensitive, his fingertips able to feel each dip and groove of the lacy pantyhose that he ripped in his frantic haste to pull Ichigo's hips closer to his own, to feel that beautiful ass constrict around him as the boy cried out his pleasure again and again.
The sound of a high-heeled shoe falling to the ground made him smile into their kiss, Ichigo pulling his face away, his moans suddenly taking on a more vital tone. In response to what he knew was coming, Kisuke sped up his thrusts, the heavy bang of the younger man's back slamming into the wall fraying his control, making his stomach clench, building the pressure until he knew there wouldn't be anywhere to go but down, down, down into the swelling sea of pleasure they were both swimming in.
Without warning the body in his arms went rigid, and all at once he felt Ichigo's fingernails dig into the fabric of his back as his legs squeezed painfully around Kisuke's still-pumping hips, the warm spray of come splashing across the patches of exposed skin on his mummified belly. The feel of Ichigo's come was almost inhumanly hot, burning, smelling so strongly of tang and salt that Urahara thought surely he would choke on it, die on it, smell it buried in his nose forever. And his voice, Ichigo's voice, that wicked voice, it kept screaming, kept breaking, kept combining with the supple legs that drug him closer, faster, harder until finally Kisuke felt himself overflow with sensation, overloading, and he simply couldn't take it anymore and…
"Ichigo!" He cried out, reaching forward instinctively with his teeth to attack the neck he knew would be presented for him, biting so hard that he felt a warm, sticky rush of copper pennies fill his mouth even as his cock filled Ichigo's body. The rush of pleasure that sung through his veins almost instantly drained him, exhausted him, and emptied his mind of every coherent thought other than the most basic emotions. Love…devotion…fidelity…unending longing…all those remained while transient thoughts were tossed away.
Little death…
They collapsed then into the coats below, a pile of tangled limbs, neither man able to maintain the awkward posture they had been in anymore. For many minutes neither one spoke, the sounds of their labored breathing the only noise save for the party still raging outside in the dining hall. Eventually however, Kisuke rose to his knees and reached up to lethargically pull the bandages off his eyes, surveying the damage the two of them had wrought. His eyes widened at the presented scene, face breaking out in a broad grin.
Ichigo lay partially propped against the wall, his legs spread wide and long in front of him, thoroughly soiled panties hanging off the one ankle that still had a shoe wrapped around it. The other foot was bare, stockings broken free of their garter belts to hang in rumpled disorder, torn and ruined, all around his thighs. Ichigo's frilly skirt was still bunched at his waist, his entire lower half exposed to Kisuke's leer, come smeared liberally over his abdomen and dripping from his sweet pink ass to make puddles on the floor. There was even blood leaking from the wound on the side of his neck, staining the pristine fabric of the white choker he'd been wearing, effectively staining it a brilliant crimson.
But better than any of that was the look on his face, still flushed and sweaty, beaming in an intoxicating mix of satiation and pure love, eyes partially open to smile at Kisuke softly. His shaky hand reached out and touched Urahara's cheek before falling away, obviously fatigued, and ran up his own thigh somewhat lazily. His long fingers smeared in their combined come as it went and Kisuke couldn't remember when he'd seen anything more striking in his entire life.
Ichigo was like a wet dream brought to life.
"Good?" He crawled up and gathered Ichigo in his arms, settling his back on the wall so he could cradle the younger man in his embrace. "You're quite the exhibitionist Kurosaki-kun."
Ichigo purred against Kisuke's chest, running his cheek along the scratchy bandages still wrapped around his torso. "Very. Though I think you ruined my dress…"
"Ah, I'm sorry Ichigo. I'll buy you another."
Quiet laughter bubbled up from the young man nestled against his heart, brown eyes lifting, full of amusement.
"All right, but next time I'd like flats. These high-heels are murder on your feet."
Again, Happy Halloween! What are you all going to be this year? I'm dressing up as Neliel from Bleach! My boobies are just big enough to fit that outfit. Sweet!