ONLY BLEACH LEMON SURROUNDED BY OUR BERRY BOY AND HIS HOT QUINCY MOM.
CHAPTER 1 - ICHIGO X MASAKI
INCEST!! LEMON!!
Ichigo Kurosaki dragged his feet along the corridor of his Karakura home, his sneakers echoing softly against the wooden floorboards. The scent of his mother's cooking wafted through the air, a familiar comfort that usually brightened his evenings after a long day at school. His thoughts were a jumble of homework, baseball practice, and the latest manga he'd been reading. He rubbed his eyes, trying to scrub away the fatigue that clung to him like a stubborn shadow.
As he approached the dining hall, the muffled sound of the TV grew louder, the laughter of actors piercing the quiet hum of the house. Pushing the door open, he was met with the flickering light of the television screen and the sight of his twin sisters, Yuzu and Karin, curled up on the sofa, eyes glued to the latest rom-com. They were so absorbed that they barely registered his presence, their giggles bouncing off the walls in a sweet symphony of obliviousness.
The room was warm, the kind of warmth that seeped into your bones and made you want to curl up and never move again. The aroma of food grew stronger, making his stomach rumble with anticipation. He took a step further in, his gaze drifting past the faux-leather sofa, over the cluttered coffee table with its mountain of magazines and discarded school supplies, and finally landing on the dining table.
And there she was, his mother, Masaki, leaning over the table, her body a stark contrast against the dark wooden surface. Her eyes were closed, a look of bliss etched on her face. His father, Isshin, was standing behind her, his torso bare and glistening with sweat, his pants pooled around his ankles. They were moving together in a rhythm as ancient as the world itself, oblivious to the fact that their son had just walked in.
Ichigo's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't a prude by any means, but the sight of his parents in such an intimate act still sent a shockwave through his system. He'd caught them like this before, of course—it wasn't uncommon for parents to be intimate, especially when they had the house to themselves—but each time it happened, it felt like he was stumbling upon a sacred, private moment he wasn't meant to see.
His cheeks flushed, and his eyes darted around the room, trying to find somewhere to look that wouldn't burn the image into his retinas. He contemplated retreating back to his room, but the call of dinner was too strong. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sounds of passion that filled the room, and moved closer to the table.
The sight of his mother's bare back, the way his father's hands gripped her hips, the soft moans that escaped her lips—it was all too much. He felt a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal, a confusing cocktail of emotions that he didn't know how to process.
Masaki's voice pierced the silence, calling out to them from behind the sofa. "Ichigo, girls, dinner's ready!" she sang out, not bothering to cover herself. The TV's volume was just loud enough to muffle the sound of their footsteps as they approached the dinner table.
Ichigo's heart was racing as he sat down, avoiding eye contact with his parents. The steaming dishes of food looked delicious, but he couldn't help but feel a little sick at the thought of eating in such close proximity to where they had just been intimate. He forced himself to focus on the food, trying to ignore the faint smell of sex that still lingered in the air.
Yuzu, ever the blunt one, spoke up. "Mom, is the food okay? You guys were... you know..." She trailed off, blushing.
Masaki giggled, a sound that made her breasts jiggle slightly, sending a fresh wave of embarrassment through Ichigo. "Oh, don't worry about that," she said with a wink, grabbing a plate to serve the food. "A little sex never hurt anyone, least of all the food."
Karin nodded in agreement, her eyes still glued to the TV. "Yeah, but maybe next time, you could keep your clothes on?" she suggested without looking away from the screen.
Ichigo felt his face get hotter. "Yeah," he chimed in, his voice gruff. "You guys should, you know, do that in your room or something."
Masaki turned to him, a playful smile on her face. "But where's the fun in that?" she teased. "Besides, your father is a busy man. He needs to make time where he can."
Isshin chuckled, slapping his thigh. "Your mother's right, son. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."
Yuzu rolled her eyes. "But Mom, you're always walking around naked," she pointed out, her cheeks a brighter shade of pink. "It's not just about tonight."
Masaki's smile didn't falter. "Well, your father's not complaining, are you, dear?" she asked, turning to Isshin.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not like it bothers me," he said with a wink at his daughters.
The conversation was awkward, but somehow, they managed to navigate through dinner, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Ichigo picked at his food, his mind racing with thoughts he didn't quite know how to voice. The scene was burned into his mind, and he found himself glancing at his mother's bare skin every few moments, the sight making him feel both guilty and curious.
As they ate, the TV played on in the background, the laugh track of the rom-com a jarring contrast to the silent tension around the dinner table. The scene felt both surreal and eerily mundane, as if this was just another night in the Kurosaki household. But for Ichigo, it was a moment that would stay with him, a reminder that his parents were more than just the adults who raised him—they were people with desires and needs that didn't always fit neatly into the roles he'd assigned them.
The dinner passed in a blur, the clink of forks on plates and the occasional forced laugh the only sounds in the room. When the meal was finished, Ichigo shot to his feet, eager to escape the discomfort. "I'm gonna go do the dishes," he announced, hoping to break the tension.
As he stood at the sink, the warm water running over the plates and dishes, he couldn't shake the image from his mind. His eyes darted to the dinner table, now clear of food but stained with a memory he'd rather forget. The slap of flesh on flesh echoed through the kitchen, and he knew what was happening without looking.
He gritted his teeth and told himself to focus on the task at hand. But curiosity—or perhaps something more primal—pulled his gaze back to the scene unfolding just a few feet away. His mother was laid out on the table, her legs spread wide, her body arching with each powerful thrust from his father. Isshin's face was a mask of concentration, his eyes squeezed shut as he drove into Masaki's welcoming warmth.
The twins had retreated back to the sofa, their eyes glued to the TV once more. The volume was turned up slightly, as if to drown out the sounds of their parents' lovemaking. They pretended not to notice, lost in their own world of giggles and whispers. Yet, every so often, a particularly loud moan or grunt would pierce the bubble of their ignorance, and they'd exchange awkward glances before returning to their show.
Ichigo felt torn between his duty to his family and his own burgeoning desires. He knew he should be disgusted, but there was something... mesmerizing about the raw passion on display. The sight of his mother's breasts bouncing with each impact, the way her legs tightened around his father's waist, the glisten of sweat on their skin—it was all too much to ignore.
He tried to focus on the dishes, scrubbing a plate with more vigor than necessary. But the sight of his mother's body, so open and vulnerable, kept drawing his gaze. The noises grew more intense, and he felt his own body responding despite his efforts to push the thoughts away.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned his back to the table, focusing on the task at hand. His heart hammered in his chest as he listened to his mother's moans grow louder, her voice rising in a crescendo that seemed to fill the entire house. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the scene playing out just behind him.
The sound of their climax was almost as loud as the TV, and he felt his cheeks burn with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. He didn't dare look back, not yet. Instead, he focused on the rhythmic sound of the water, the clanking of the dishes, the mundane tasks that grounded him in reality.
After what felt like an eternity, the noises from the table subsided. He risked a glance over his shoulder to find his mother, Masaki, lying spent and panting, her body sprawled out like a starfish on the wooden surface. His father, Isshin, had already disappeared, probably off to some late-night clinic work.
"Ichigo," Masaki called out, her voice breathy and filled with satisfaction. "Could you help me to the bedroom, dear?"
He nodded, his heart racing as he dried his hands on the dishtowel. She took his hand, her skin warm and slightly sticky with sweat, and he helped her to her feet. Her naked body was still flushed with arousal, her breasts heaving with each breath she took. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of something, a desire that was as unwelcome as it was confusing.
"Mom, you're..." He gestured awkwardly at her nudity.
Masaki looked down at herself and laughed, a full-bodied sound that seemed to shake the very walls. "Oh, this old thing?" she teased, waving a hand in front of her bare chest. "I forgot I was naked again."
Ichigo couldn't help but roll his eyes, his cheeks burning. "It's not funny," he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You're right," she said with a sigh, her hand drifting down to her thigh. "Your father can be a bit... enthusiastic." She winced slightly, and he noticed the marks on her skin, the evidence of their lovemaking.
"I'm okay," she assured him quickly, sensing his concern. "But I could use a little help walking."
He nodded, supporting her as they made their way down the hallway. The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional giggle from his sisters' room. It was as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them in this strange, intimate bubble.
Once they reached her room, she sank onto the bed with a grateful sigh, her legs spread slightly apart. He couldn't help but see the glisten between her thighs, the way she absently rubbed at her sore flesh. The sight sent a jolt of something through him, and he quickly averted his gaze.
"I'm okay," she assured him quickly, sensing his concern. "But I could use a little help walking."
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Ichigo felt his face heat up even more. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice gruff.
Masaki's eyes met his, and she smirked, noticing the bulge in his pants. "You're a young man, after all," she said gently. "Don't be embarrassed. Just remember to take care of it before you go to sleep."
He stared at her, not quite sure what to say. "What?"
"You know," she said with a knowing wink. "Jerk off. It's not good for you to go to bed with that kind of... tension."
He blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Mom, I don't..."
"It's okay," she assured him, her hand sliding down to cover her own mound. "I know it's hard to talk about, but it's just part of life."
Ichigo swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. He nodded, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and need. "I'll... I'll go to my room," he managed to say, turning on his heel and practically running out of the room.
Masaki watched her son retreat, her eyes filled with a mix of understanding and amusement. She knew this was a pivotal moment, one that could either drive them apart or bring them closer. She took a deep breath and followed him to his room, noticing the tension in his shoulders as he sat on the edge of his bed.
"Ichigo," she began, her voice gentle. "I know what you're going through."
He looked up at her, his eyes wide and filled with a question he hadn't quite figured out how to ask. She sat down beside him, her hand resting comfortingly on his back.
"It's okay to feel this way," she assured him. "But it's also important to know that everyone has their own boundaries. And it's not just about sex. It's about respect and consent in every aspect of life."
He nodded slowly, his cheeks still aflame. She could see the wheels turning in his head, the beginnings of a mature understanding forming.
"I just don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me," she said, her voice earnest. "Or that you have to hide your feelings."
The room was silent for a moment, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Then, with a sigh, he leaned into her, his head resting against her shoulder.
"Thanks, Mom," he murmured.
The unexpected bonding moment was a balm to his soul, easing the tension that had coiled around him since the incident in the dining room. It was strange, but somehow, talking to his mother about this had made him feel less alone in his confusion.
As he lay on his bed, the image of his mother's naked body was impossible to shake. He felt guilty for the thoughts that flooded his mind, but he was also a teenage boy with raging hormones. He couldn't help but picture her, her legs spread and welcoming, as he reached down to unbutton his pants. His cock sprang free, and he took it in his hand, the heat of his own touch sending a shiver down his spine.
He stroked himself slowly at first, the friction sending waves of pleasure through his body. The guilt was still there, but it was overpowered by the need that pulsed within him. He closed his eyes, and there she was, his mother, her eyes closed in ecstasy as she touched herself in the way that only a woman truly knew how.
Just as he was nearing the edge, the sound of his window sliding open startled him. He looked up to see a small, black-clad figure standing in the moonlit room. The girl looked around, her eyes widening when they fell on him. She was a ghost, and she hadn't expected to see anyone in here, especially not in the state he was in.
"He can't see me," she murmured to herself, her eyes flickering over his naked form. She took in the sight of his erect cock, her eyes going wide with fascination. "It's not like it's my first time seeing one," she mused, "but it's definitely the biggest."
Ichigo felt a jolt of panic, his hand stilling on his shaft. He wasn't sure if he should cover up or ignore her. The girl looked around again, her eyes darting to the door before she took a tentative step towards him.
"Well, if you're not going to finish, I might as well help," she said with a shrug, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before he could react, she was between his legs, her small, cold hands wrapping around his cock. He gasped as she licked the tip, her tongue flicking over the sensitive skin. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and he couldn't believe this was happening.
The girl took her time, exploring him with a curiosity that was both innocent and erotic. He watched in amazement as she took him into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked him deep. He bit his lip, trying not to moan too loudly and alert his sisters.
It didn't take long before he was on the edge again, his hips bucking against her face. He felt the warmth of his climax building, the pleasure coiling in his balls like a spring ready to snap. And then, with one final, mind-shattering stroke, he came, his seed spurting into her waiting mouth.
The girl pulled back, her eyes watering slightly as she swallowed. She looked up at him, a smudge of his essence at the corner of her mouth, and grinned. "Not too shabby for a first time," she said, her voice mischievous.
Ichigo stared at her, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He had no idea how to process what had just happened, but he knew one thing for sure—his life in Karakura town was about to get a lot more complicated.
"What... what are you? A ghost slut?" he managed to ask, his voice still hoarse from his climax.
The girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smiling up at him. "I'm not a slut," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and annoyance. "I'm Rukia Kuchiki. And you should be grateful for the help."
For a moment, he just blinked at her, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth. Then, it dawned on him—she was a ghost. And not just any ghost, but one that had willingly interacted with him in such a personal way. "But how did you... I mean, why are you here?"
Rukia's expression grew serious. "I'm a soul reaper," she said, watching his reaction closely. "From the Soul Society. And I'm not just here to help you with... that." She gestured at his now-flaccid cock. "I was chasing a hollow. That's what I do."
Ichigo felt his stomach drop. Hollows? Soul Society? He'd heard of these things in stories, but they were just that—stories. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, but the evidence was right there in front of him. He could see her, touch her, and she'd just...
"But how can you see me?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder. "You're not a soul reaper, and you're not dead."
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "I've always been able to see ghosts," he admitted, his voice low. "It's not a big deal."
Her eyes went wide. "That's... that's incredible," she breathed. "You're more than just a human, then."
The realization that she was a soul reaper, a protector of the living from malevolent spirits, was a shock to say the least. And she had seen him at his most vulnerable, his most private moment. He felt a strange mix of embarrassment and awe.
"Why did you help me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her smile was soft, almost sad. "Because you needed it," she said simply. "And because I could."
"But you should know," she continued, "that what I just did... it's not something a soul reaper should do."
Ichigo felt his cheeks heat up again. "I-I know," he stammered. "I just... I didn't know what to do."
Rukia nodded, her gaze drifting to the window. "It's okay," she murmured. "But we should probably keep this between us."
He nodded, his mind racing with questions. Who was she? What was a soul reaper? And why had she felt the need to help him in such a... intimate way?
He nodded, his mind racing with questions. Who was she? What was a soul reaper? And why had she felt the need to help him in such a... intimate way?
Ichigo was already on his feet, his pants hastily pulled back on. He rushed to the window and looked out, his stomach dropping as he saw the monstrous creature and his sisters in the yard. "Yuzu! Karin!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with fear.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rukia demanded, grabbing his arm.
He yanked free. "They're in trouble!"
Before she could react, he leaped from the window, his body moving faster than he had ever felt it move before. He hit the ground running, the grass beneath his bare feet, his heart hammering in his chest.
The hollow, a grotesque mix of shadow and teeth, had its eyes locked on the twins. It hadn't noticed him yet. The twins' eyes went wide with shock when they saw him, their forms frozen in place.
"Run!" he yelled, charging towards the creature.
The hollow turned, snarling, and lunged. Ichigo felt a surge of power flow through him, and suddenly, he wasn't just a scared teenager anymore. He was something more, something powerful. He slammed into the creature, feeling its malicious energy push back against him.
Rukia watched from the window, her eyes widening. She had felt the power surge through him when she'd passed on her abilities, but she had never seen a human fight a hollow before. She knew she had to help, but she was still too weak from their earlier encounter.
The hollow was fast, its claws raking through the air as it swiped at him. But Ichigo was faster, his movements almost a blur as he dodged and weaved. He didn't know how he was doing it, but he could feel the power of the soul reaper within him, guiding his every move.
The creature's eyes flashed with rage, and it opened its gaping maw, preparing to devour his sisters. That was when Rukia saw it—the telltale signs of a soul reaper's blade forming in his hand. He had never seen one before, but the instinct was there, as if it was something he had always known.
With a roar, he brought the blade down, slicing through the hollow's body with a sound like tearing paper. The creature dissipated into the night, leaving only the faint scent of ozone behind.
Yuzu and Karin stared at their brother, their eyes wide with shock and fear. They had seen him fight bullies before, but nothing like this. "Ichigo, what the hell?" Yuzu whispered.
He turned to them, panting, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "You're okay," he said, his voice shaking. "You're both okay."
Rukia appeared beside him and put the twins in sleep. She had followed him despite her injuries, unable to stand by and watch. "We need to talk," she said, her eyes serious.
The reality of the situation washed over them like a cold shower. They were in a world they had never even imagined, a world where monsters roamed the night and their brother was their protector.
Masaki emerged from the house, her eyes wild and her body still naked. She clutched a bow and arrow that seemed almost too large for her, and the sight of her took both Yuzu and Karin's breath away.
Masaki was focused solely on the danger in front of them. "Where is it?" she yelled, her eyes scanning the area. "Where's the hollow?"
Rukia stared, her jaw dropping at the sight of the naked woman. It was a moment that would be forever etched in her memory, a mix of shock and disbelief. "That's... that's your mother?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ichigo's face was a mask of horror as he realized the implications of the situation. "Mom, no!" he shouted, sprinting towards her. He couldn't let anyone else see her like this.
Before she could respond, he reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back towards the house. "You can't go out like this!" he hissed, his cheeks burning.
Her eyes searched his face, and she must have seen the panic in his eyes because she finally seemed to come back to herself. She looked down at her body, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she realized her own nudity.
They stumbled back into the house, and he closed the door behind them, his heart racing. He didn't know what to say, his mind racing with images of his mother's naked body.
As they stood there, panting and trying to compose themselves, the sound of their mother's moaning grew louder. It was a sound that was all too familiar to him, one that he had heard many times before. But now, in the aftermath of the battle, it seemed almost alien.
Ichigo's hand flew to his face, his eyes wide with shock. "Mom, are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaking.
Masaki looked at him, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. "Oh, yes," she murmured, her breathing ragged. "Your hands are so warm."
It was then that he realized what he had done. In his haste to cover her, his hands had found their way to her breasts, and she had reacted instinctively.
"Mom, I'm sorry," he mumbled, his face burning with embarrassment.
Masaki's laugh was soft and understanding. "It's fine, Ichigo," she said, her voice still breathy. "You've always been curious Mommy's big boobies." She took his hand in hers and placed it back on her breast. "You've played with them since you were a baby. It's only natural."
Ichigo felt his cheeks go up in flames as he jerked his hand away. "Mom, I'm not a baby anymore!" he protested, his voice high and strained.
But she just giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I know, sweetie," she said, her voice low and teasing. "But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy them."
Masaki called out, "And don't let anyone else see me like this!"
The door clicked shut behind them, and there was Rukia who put the twin in bed. Masaki looked at Rukia, her eyes questioning. "What do we do now?" she asked.
But she just giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I know, sweetie," she said, her voice low and teasing. "But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy them."
Masaki nodded, her gaze drifting to the bow in her hand. "I see," she murmured, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I guess I got a little... carried away."
Ichigo's eyes widened at her nonchalant attitude. "Mom, you're naked!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice low.
"Oh, right," she said with a giggle, looking down at herself. "Well, that's what happens when you don't have time to get dressed when there's a hollow on the loose."
Rukia couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never encountered a human who was so comfortable with their own nudity, let alone one who could fight like that. "You're... not upset?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Masaki shrugged. "Why should I be?" she said, a smile playing on her lips. "It's not like it's the first time I've fought like this."
Ichigo stared at his mother, his mind racing. He had always known she was different, that she had some kind of power, but he had never seen this side of her. "What do you mean?"
Masaki looked at her son, her expression growing serious. "I'm a Quincy if you forget," she said.
The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. Quincies were beings with the power to purify hollows, and they were rare. He had heard stories, but he had never met one.
Masaki's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of judgment. But all he felt was a strange mix of curiosity and... something else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Rukia took a step back, her eyes wide. "A Quincy? Here in Karakura town?" she whispered.
Masaki nodded, her hand still buried between her legs. "It's a long story," she said with a wink. "But it's not like we can hide from what we are."
With that, she turned and began walking back to the living room, her bare ass swaying with every step. Rukia and Ichigo exchanged a look, a mix of shock and curiosity, before Ichigo following her while Rukia left for good.
Once they were all seated, Masaki leaned back, her legs spread wide, and began to stroke her clit in a way that was both mesmerizing and disturbing. "I'm sorry for the display," she said, her voice a little shaky. "It's just... when I fight, it gets me all... worked up."
Ichigo's cock twitched in his pants, and he tried to look anywhere but at his mother's exposed pussy. "It's okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No, it's not," Masaki said, her eyes locking onto his. "You shouldn't have to be uncomfortable in your own home."
With that, she reached over and took his hand, placing it firmly on his crotch. "Go ahead," she murmured. "It'll help you relax."
Ichigo's cheeks burned, but he couldn't deny the thrill that shot through him at her words. He began to stroke himself, his eyes glued to his mother's face, watching her every reaction.
"Look at me," she said, her voice a soft command. He obeyed, his gaze dropping to her hand as she pleasured herself. The sight was almost too much to handle, but he didn't want to miss a second of it.
"Your mother's pussy is beautiful, isn't it?" she said, her eyes never leaving his. "So pink and wet."
He nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched her. She was right—it was beautiful, in a way that he never thought a mother's could be.
Masaki grinned. "It's just who we are," she said, her eyes flickering to the ghostly soul reaper. "Now, let's see that blade of yours."
Ichigo felt his cock pulse at the thought of using his newfound power again as Masaki hastily yanked his pants down releasing his cock. He didn't know how, but he knew he could do it. And with his mother's encouragement, he felt unstoppable.
"Concentrate," she said, her own movements growing more frantic. "Imagine the power inside of you, begging to be released."
He closed his eyes and did as she said, feeling the energy swell within him. And when he opened them again, he knew he could do it. He reached down and gripped his cock, feeling the power surge through him as he stroked it.
"Yes," Masaki moaned, her own climax approaching. "Do it, Ichigo. Show me what you've got."
And with that, he let out a roar, he orgasmed. His semen scattered all over his lower body and some flew on Masaki's skin.
The room was silent as a naked Masaki sat there in the afterglow of her climax. The scent of sex was thick in the air, mingling with the faint smell of ozone from their recent battle. Being in such close proximity to her, and after experiencing the intensity of their shared power, had left her son equally bare, his cock still standing tall despite its recent release.
Ichigo opened his eyes with a start, finding himself cradled in his mother's arms. Her breasts were pressed against his bare chest, and his own cock was nestled between their stomachs. The intimacy was almost too much to bear, and he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement mixed with the weight of the taboo.
"What are you doing?" he finally managed to ask, his voice hoarse from his earlier shout.
Masaki's eyes, still glazed with passion, looked into his with a mix of love and hunger. "I am Masaki Kurosaki, the Quincy 'L' means 'The Lust' and you're giving me lust," she whispered, her breath warm against his neck. "And I want to take it all from you."
Ichigo's heart skipped a beat. He knew what she meant, what her Quincy power entailed. It was a power that drew on the desires of others, a power that could be overwhelming and all-consuming.
Her hand trailed down his chest, her fingers playing with the trail of cum on his stomach before tracing a line up to his still-hard cock. "You're mine now," she murmured, her voice seductive. "I need this."
And with that, she leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft and warm against his. He didn't resist, his mind a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. This was wrong, he knew it deep down. But it felt s right with his mother, so natural.
The kiss grew deeper, her tongue slipping into his mouth as her hand began to stroke him again. His cock grew even harder, the friction of their bodies sending sparks of pleasure through him.
Ichigo's own hand found her round ass cheeks, groping her ass in subconscious. She moaned into his mouth, her hips rocking against him as she sought out her own release.
Masaki giggled, breaking the kiss. "Looks like my little boy's got a taste for his mother's ass," she said, her voice playfully teasing.
Ichigo blushed furiously but didn't stop. He was lost in a haze of desire, his thoughts muddled by the sensations of her body against his as he pushed his fingers in her pussy. He could feel her wetness coating his fingertips, her pussy begging for more.
Without warning, she shifted, sliding his cock into her warm, welcoming depths. Ichigo gasped, his eyes going wide with shock and pleasure.
"Mom, this is..." he started, his voice trailing off.
Masaki leaned back, her eyes locked onto his. "It's okay," she murmured. "It's what you want and it's what I'll give you."
He could feel her tightness, the heat of her surrounding him, and it was all too much. He didn't know how to process the wrongness of the situation, but he couldn't deny the pleasure it brought him.
"Mom, it's wrong," he whispered, his voice shaky.
Masaki's smile was gentle as she leaned in and kissed him again, her hips beginning to move in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. "It's not wrong," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "It's just what we are."
Her words seemed to echo in his mind as he felt her start to move faster, her moans growing louder. He knew she was right. In this moment, all that mattered was the two of them.
"Call me 'mommy,'" she breathed into his ear, her teeth grazing his lobe. "Say it."
"Mommy," he moaned, the word slipping out before he could stop it.
Her movements grew more frantic, her moans turning into cries of pleasure. "That's it," she urged. "Call me your lewd, slutty mommy."
The words were like a trigger, sending him over the edge. He couldn't hold back anymore, his cock pulsing as he moaned "Mommy, I want to cum. pull it out"
"NO! NO! CUM IN MY WOMB" Masaki shouted in pleasure. Ichigo couldn't help it with Masaki's another thrust he emptied in her.
Masaki's orgasm crashed over her, her body trembling as she rode out the waves of pleasure. She leaned back, her breasts heaving as she caught her breath. "Good boy," she murmured, her eyes glazed with satisfaction.
Ichigo stared at her, his cock still buried deep inside her. He felt a mix of emotions—shame, excitement, and something else he couldn't quite name. He knew this was a line they shouldn't have crossed, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
The two of them lay there, their bodies tangled together, for what felt like an eternity. The silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of their heavy breathing.
Finally, Masaki spoke. "We're not going to tell anyone about this," she said, her voice firm. "It's our secret."
Ichigo nodded, his heart racing. "I understand," he whispered.
"Good," she said, her voice a purr.
The words sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt his cock stir despite the awkwardness of the situation. He couldn't believe they were actually talking about this, that she wanted more of him.
But before they could continue, the sound of the door creaking open made them both freeze. Isshin peeked through the crack, his eyes wide with shock and a hint of amusement. He had heard the commotion and couldn't resist the urge to check on his wife and son.
Masaki's eyes widened as she saw him, and she smirked sultrily and pressed herself more on Ichigo. Ichigo tried to hide himself in fear but it was too late; Isshin had already caught them in the act. He let out a low, perverted giggle, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Ichigo's face went pale, and he felt his cock wilt at the sight of his father's leer. "D-dad?" he stuttered.
Isshin's grin grew wider. "Looks like you two were having some fun," he said, his voice thick with lust. "Don't mind me, I'll just..." He trailed off, his eyes lingering on Masaki's naked form before he backed away, closing the door with a soft click.
Masaki buried her face in her hands, her cheeks burning. "Oh my god," she whispered. "What have we done?" she said in a mock tone.
Ichigo was horrified. He had never imagined that his father would see him like this, with his own mother. He felt sick to his stomach, the reality of their actions hitting him like a ton of bricks.
But Masaki calmed Ichigo down with her reishi before started riding him once again vigoriously.
But the next morning, when he awoke with Masaki's naked body still draped over him, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of comfort. Her soft, warm skin against his was a stark contrast to the cold, empty bed he was used to.
Masaki's eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at him with a soft smile. "Good morning," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.
He stiffened, the memories of the night before rushing back. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"I think we fucked without care, your cock is as amazing as your dad'" she murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
The horror washed over him again, but it was quickly replaced by something else—desire. He could feel himself getting hard again, and she noticed.
"Don't worry," she said, her voice soothing. "Your dad won't say anything. He'll understand."
And with that, she leaned down and kissed him again, her soft, plump lips pressing against his. He couldn't resist, his body responding to her touch despite his racing thoughts.
As the kiss grew deeper, he felt her hand slide down to his cock, her fingers wrapping around it gently. He moaned, his body betraying him as it began to respond.
Masaki giggled, her eyes playful. "Looks like someone's happy in his momma's tight cunt," she said, her voice low and seductive.
Ichigo felt his face flush as he looked up at her. "I-I can't," he protested, his voice weak.
But she just shushed him, her hand moving faster. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're mine now. And I'll take care of you."
The words sent a thrill through him, and he gave in, allowing her to stroke him into another mind-blowing orgasm. He could feel her power pulsing through him, feeding off his pleasure as she brought him to climax.
When it was over, she still let his in her as she sat on his lap, her breathing steady and calm. "It's okay," she murmured again, her hand resting on his chest. "We're family. And this is just part of who we are."
Ichigo couldn't argue with that, his mind too foggy with the aftermath of their shared ecstasy. He stared up at the ceiling, his heart racing as he processed everything that had just happened.
Masaki sat up, her breasts swaying gently as she reached for a small notepad on the bedside table. "This is my Quincy notebook," she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "You know how my power works, right?"
He nodded, his mind racing with the implications. If she could make anyone lust for her, then...
"Good," she said, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Because now that you've made me your 'lewd mommy,' you get to use it too."
Ichigo sat up, his eyes wide with shock. "What?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Masaki held out the notebook to him, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Write down the name of any girl you want," she instructed. "And they'll want your cock just as badly as you want their pussy around you."
He took the notebook, his hand shaking slightly. This power was incredible, and the thought of using it was both exhilarating and terrifying. He knew he could never tell anyone about this, especially his friends.
"Now get cleaned up before yours sisters will see us, seeing me nude is one thing but me fucking you will scar their minds" Masaki giggled and pulled her body up from Ichigo. As soon as her pussy let go of Ichigo's cock, a glob of his semen was vomited by her nether lips.
Ichigo only stared at his mother's not so innocent nude body.
TO BE CONTINUED -