Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 04/30/16 ~ recommitted to completion.

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fluffy_pink
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 04/01/2013

Post by fluffy_pink » Thu Apr 04, 2013 5:38 am

Fantastic story, just wanted to give my thanks after a marathon reading session. As with many people here, I've been avoiding stories with OCs, but I'm pleasantly surprised by your cast of 7+ well fleshed-out OCs. I feel much more inclined to read more OC stories in the future now.

Aside from the ubiquitous "keep doing what you're doing", the only feedback I can give is that you've used brazier instead of brassiere in chapters 18 and 20. A brazier is something one lights a fire in.

Anyway, extremely high-quality story, and I look forward to seeing what you have in store for us! :D

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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 03/30/2013

Post by griffon8 » Thu Apr 04, 2013 11:22 am

neio wrote:
each-other
There's something about this forum and the phrase "each other." It's not one word (eachother), and it's not hyphenated (each-other). It's two words: each other.
He knows, yet for some reason can't get over the idea that they are never one word. I don't remember where this came up, probably in another thread. Each-other is an improvement, but still not enough in my mind.
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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 03/30/2013

Post by Helbereth » Thu Apr 04, 2013 12:40 pm

griffon8 wrote:
neio wrote:
each-other
There's something about this forum and the phrase "each other." It's not one word (eachother), and it's not hyphenated (each-other). It's two words: each other.
He knows, yet for some reason can't get over the idea that they are never one word. I don't remember where this came up, probably in another thread. Each-other is an improvement, but still not enough in my mind.
Actually when I went looking for information on it back when I started writing again (which was in June), there wasn't much to find, and everything seemed to confict. To me, the hyphenated version (each-other) is the closest approximation to the single-word form (eachother) which I think should exist, so I've used that. If it turns out the separated form (each other) is the only viable version, it will be among my list of corrections to make when I'm going back to edit the whole thing--which I already started doing, but probably won't update here.

Instead of the new chapter, I spent the last few days going back to chapter 1 and 2, cleaning up the narrative, adding back some things I should have put in, making the prose a little less amateurish, and doing general maintenance on the grammar and structure. The first 5 chapters were written ON the forum and I skipped some whole conversations, missed describing some important things, and created certain plot points that I never actually used. That has bothered me for months, but I've been solely focused on moving the story forward.

Thing is, the version here sort of shows my progression improving as a writer, so I probably won't update them; so they stay for posterity in their larval form. Even if I didn't do that, thus far the length of both chapters has increased by several thousand words (5000 and 3000 respectively) and I would have to split them into separate posts... which would basically be impossible.

Anyway, I'll probably end up compiling it all into a book form at some point, as I saw suggested to Scissorlips by... oh right, that was you, neio. I'm getting back to writing the main story today.
fluffy_pink wrote:Fantastic story, just wanted to give my thanks after a marathon reading session. As with many people here, I've been avoiding stories with OCs, but I'm pleasantly surprised by your cast of 7+ well fleshed-out OCs. I feel much more inclined to read more OC stories in the future now.

Aside from the ubiquitous "keep doing what you're doing", the only feedback I can give is that you've used brazier instead of brassiere in chapters 18 and 20. A brazier is something one lights a fire in.

Anyway, extremely high-quality story, and I look forward to seeing what you have in store for us! :D
I really ought to be used to seeing people pop in and make comments like this, but they still make me blush. I went back and fixed the chapter 18 follies, and I'll fix 20 in due time. I remember looking those up and somehow I still got the wrong word... I almost think I should just shorten them to 'bra', which I used in the most recent chapter.

Aiko, Amaya, Tadao, Kenta, Yoko, Naoko... Um, seven?

Those six are the ones that got enough page-time to say they're fleshed-out. There's Joyce, Ito, Nobuo and Miyoto you could make a case for, and now maybe Jun and, if unmentioned tertiary characters count, Taro, but I wouldn't be willing to plant a flag and say they're real quite yet--especially considering my story notes for Miyoto, Jun and Ito.

I'm not sure what seven you were talking about, exactly, is all...

Anyway, welcome to the forum (that's your only post as I write this), and do have a look around; there's plenty of reading you can do elsewhere.

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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 03/30/2013

Post by fluffy_pink » Thu Apr 04, 2013 6:08 pm

Helbereth wrote:Aiko, Amaya, Tadao, Kenta, Yoko, Naoko... Um, seven?

Those six are the ones that got enough page-time to say they're fleshed-out. There's Joyce, Ito, Nobuo and Miyoto you could make a case for, and now maybe Jun and, if unmentioned tertiary characters count, Taro, but I wouldn't be willing to plant a flag and say they're real quite yet--especially considering my story notes for Miyoto, Jun and Ito.

I'm not sure what seven you were talking about, exactly, is all...

Anyway, welcome to the forum (that's your only post as I write this), and do have a look around; there's plenty of reading you can do elsewhere.
The seven was only a rough count, I just rattled off some names and counted on my fingers. The six that you mentioned were certainly in there, though.

Thanks for the welcome. I've been lurking here and reading fanfic pretty much constantly since I started playing KS 2 months ago. I figured I should finally get involved in the community, even if it's only to point out petty mistakes. :lol:

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neio
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 03/30/2013

Post by neio » Thu Apr 04, 2013 9:23 pm

Helbereth wrote:If it turns out the separated form (each other) is the only viable version
It is. In fact, this is so much of a given that you won't find any mention of it in a style guide. For sources, see this Google books search, this Grammar Girl post, the Merriam-Webster entry, and this 1939 film which I can't really recommend (though it's available for free download if you want it).

Now for my general grammar challenge: find an instance of "each-other" in a published book.
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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 04/01/2013

Post by Helbereth » Fri Apr 05, 2013 3:01 am

While I'm thinking about it, I got to reminiscing earlier and realized I draw a lot of inspiration from the items on shelves that still haunt my room. Prepare to be frightened by terrifying levels of nerd-dom:

Not for the faint of heart, or the shallow of mind.

As you can see, the level of video game nerdinessI have locked away is much more prevalent than the small amount of it that has crept directly into my narrative.

And that's a mere sample of post Playstation-era gaming...

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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 04/01/2013

Post by BlackWaltzTheThird » Fri Apr 05, 2013 5:15 am

That collection seems pretty fuckin' awesome to me. I wish my old games were all original copies instead of the multitudes of pirated discs courtesy of my Dad's workmates. That's one reason I'm glad I can buy my own games now; my glorious PS3 collection can expand forevermore!
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neio
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 03/30/2013

Post by neio » Sun Apr 07, 2013 11:46 am

Helbereth wrote:Instead of the new chapter, I spent the last few days going back to chapter 1 and 2, cleaning up the narrative, adding back some things I should have put in, making the prose a little less amateurish, and doing general maintenance on the grammar and structure. The first 5 chapters were written ON the forum and I skipped some whole conversations, missed describing some important things, and created certain plot points that I never actually used. That has bothered me for months, but I've been solely focused on moving the story forward.

Thing is, the version here sort of shows my progression improving as a writer, so I probably won't update them; so they stay for posterity in their larval form. Even if I didn't do that, thus far the length of both chapters has increased by several thousand words (5000 and 3000 respectively) and I would have to split them into separate posts... which would basically be impossible.

Anyway, I'll probably end up compiling it all into a book form at some point, as I saw suggested to Scissorlips by... oh right, that was you, neio. I'm getting back to writing the main story today.
Did you update them on your pastebin? I'm going to do another read-through soon.
If you're going to rewrite the whole thing then my general feedback on the first few chapters is that Aiko seemed a little too interested in Hisao, like she'd fallen in love with him before even seeing his face. It continued after she saw his face, too; I can't remember her thinking "he's heart-stoppingly (lol) gorgeous," yet he pretty much occupied her thoughts before either one showed even a shred of romantic interest in the other.

And don't tell anyone, but yes, I am working on compiling the Suzu route into an ebook. I'm finishing up a program to automatically embed imgur links.
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Chapter 31 - Best Laid Plans (part 1) EXPLICIT!

Post by Helbereth » Thu Apr 11, 2013 7:00 am

Obligatory explicit content warning: some content may not be suitable for minors or immature adults. Observe NSFW standards.

There, now that I've basically just spoiled half the chapter, I'll go ahead and mention that writing this stuff is damned difficult and nerve-racking. It's a very long chapter, and no that's not a pun. A lot of careful planning went into keeping it grounded in reality, so don't expect surreal purple prose or gymnastics.

*Ahem*

Yes, the title is a fun little play on words, and it's totally relevant to the proceedings.

While I have your attention, I'll go ahead and confirm that the chunk posted on April Fools is non-canonical, and meant in fun. It's linked down with the one-shots on my cover page, and is in no way part of the story.

Also, if the size of this update breaks your browser... I don't know what to say except, "Whoops!"


Previous|Part 2|Next Chapter
____________________________________________________________
Chapter 31 – Best Laid Plans

The evening out on Sunday left me with an epiphany that's still working its way through my thoughts, but luckily we're not required to pay much attention during the week after finals. Tuesday morning classes breezed by without a care, and Mutou's droning lecture faded into the background like so much white noise. Now in the middle of history class, our eldest teacher is sitting at the desk, enjoying her romance novel, so we're left to talk amongst ourselves, or, in my case, think to myself. The afternoon sun sends its warm rays through the window, and I find myself staring out at the distant, puffy clouds, absorbed into my own little world.

When I returned Hisao's confession on the rock, I wasn't really sure if I loved him. My wandering thoughts managed to convince me well enough to reply, but I felt conflicted about it afterward, and not only because I'm still keeping secrets. The words were there, but I was missing the gut feeling, the immediate reaction, the automatic, unfiltered, totally instinctual reply. I thought it right away, but the feeling in my heart didn't leap out through my mouth immediately, and instead I took a moment to think—I hesitated.

After the evening at the Beijing, I finally had that gut feeling. The stupid, unnecessary, totally flattering romanticism worked, and I pushed the words out before I was even done thinking them through. When he invited me to his room for some movie viewing after dinner, I had to refuse, saying I was tired. The real reason is that I wasn't sure whether I could control myself, and I know it disappointed him, but I needed time to think. Now that I'm certain I wasn't just echoing his confession to placate him, I feel relieved, but also troubled.

I love Hisao, but can I be with him?

On Monday morning, there were some tawdry rumors floating around—the result of Jun's exaggerations. Among the usual claims of fawning, kissing, and fondling, he led some to believe we didn't end the night after dinner. Claiming to have been informed by an unnamed, fictional witness in the girls' dorm, his story added a tale about sneaking up to my room to consummate our affair. It's more laughable than hurtful, and completely false, but the rumors contain a kernel of truth. Had I gone along with Hisao to watch movies in his room, that could very well have happened.

Now after spending the last two nights alone in my room, losing myself in fantasies, and staying up half the night trying to quell my desires manually, I've found myself at a stalemate. The reality and mythology around love are clashing in my mind, and I don't know which one is winning. Quite simply I'm in love—we're in love. There are songs that say love is all you need, and it's a well-meaning fantasy, but I'm not so sure it works in reality.

Love is an emotion, not a practical, tangible, realistic reason to plunge into something blindly, especially when there are more than the regular consequences involved. The very thought of being in love, and making love, intrigues me, makes me feel vital, confident, and maybe even sexy, but also terrifies me, almost beyond words, and not just because of the physical part. Hisao and I are in love, and it's wonderful to think about in the short-term, but when I look into the future, the wonderful fantasy quickly turns into a terrible nightmare.

The sexual fantasies I have about Hisao are visceral and imaginative, borderline deviant, and some of them would likely test the limits of his cardiac capacity. Still, they're coupled with realistic fantasies about living in a rooftop apartment with a wave pool, working at a banking firm, or running one, while he instructs university students in particle mechanics, or whatever scientists do, having a family, and growing a life together. It's those long-term fantasies, ridiculously premature as they seem, that really terrify me, but that's mostly because I know how the story ends.

Horribly...

Turning my thoughts back to present reality, if only to distract my morbid thoughts, I take a look around the room and wonder at the six empty chairs. Truancy isn't frowned upon as much this week, so several of my classmates are out today for various reasons. Some, like Naoko, are taking the time to visit prospective universities; her artistic talents have garnered some enthusiastic requests. Others are simply taking the day for themselves, to do whatever they like, many of which probably involve spending some time out in the beautiful sunshine.

Although I should be less forgiving as their Class Representative, I don't blame them for taking advantage of the lax attendance requirements. This entire week feels totally unnecessary, apart from Friday when we'll actually get our test results, and I'm really only here because I know Hisao is going to class. Both of us have a responsibility to show dedication, though, so I shouldn't complain, even if I think the only thing stopping us is probably the threat of retribution from Shizune—I really admire her ability to inspire obedience without a word spoken, or signed.

Implied command is awe-inspiring...

When my classmates start getting a little too rowdy, Owaku stands and sends a glare around the room, but her silent threats don't have much of a lasting effect, not that they need to last long. The countdown to three o'clock, to academic nirvana, causes a near-supernatural silence to fall across the room regardless of her gaze. It seems everyone is staring at the hands as they slowly rotate, and bedlam will soon follow.

Despite it being only Tuesday, the carillon bell's ringing causes a rush of joy to explode through the halls as the obligation to remain quiet and obedient collapses into loud rebellion—it's glorious, and a little frightening. There are a lot of rules about conduct in the halls at Yamaku, and they're enforced quite forcefully by a team of monitors, but the excitement of being released from the doldrums of academia, especially after being held in something like suspended animation, is overwhelmingly powerful, and reduces courteous students to a disorganized mob—I intend to wait for them to clear.

Getting trampled is not on my to-do list...

Walking along with me as I approach the door slowly, Amaya grabs my arm to halt my advance, and nearly causes Tadao to stumble. Ahead of us, behind a sea of clamoring students, there's an adorable little scene playing out between Yoko and Kenta, and apparently she wants to stop and gawk. Although my recent exposure to the butt-end of the rumor mill makes me less eager to become a voyeur, I think I can make an exception in this case—I'm always keen to watch the fruits of my subtle manipulations.

They're too cute for me to look away...

Though she seemed like a shy, introverted outcast barely two weeks ago, the indelibly humble Yoko has become quite popular since returning from the beach trip. Making friends with her neighbors hasn't dampened the budding romance with Kenta, but usually the evidence thereof isn't so plainly seen. Hands wrapped together, they stand aside the door having an inaudible conversation, practically in a world of their own despite the excited throng shuffling around them.

After a few nodding exchanges, Yoko grins brightly, wraps Kenta in a hug, kisses his cheek, and follows the crowd out into the halls. Whatever was said, it leaves Kenta blushing a deep crimson and staggering toward the half-open door with his hand held out longingly. Stepping as if floating, his weak foot trailing behind, he rests his good hand against the door jamb and bows his head, then lets out a melancholy sigh. The dramatic response is at least partially faked, but the blush is real. It's likely he's only staying behind because his hobbling is decidedly detrimental when faced with a stampede, but I can sense the speech coming before his mouth begins to move.

“My love!” he wails, throwing his head back, “She whispered in my ear; an urgent meeting I must rush to attend,” he intones mournfully, clutching a hand over his heart, “I have to meet Naoko at the gate,” he adds dramatically, as if quoting Shakespeare.

He fancies himself an actor...

“Pity my soul! Those may be the last words she uttered...” he pauses, spinning to rest against the jamb. “For my favor,” he finishes, sinking his head down and closing his eyes tightly. The mock despondence in his rising voice carries a little bit of truth, but he's really overplaying the sympathy riff, and Amaya groans disdainfully at his display.

I don't know whether to applaud or cry.

“Oh, my sweet Ginger-Snap!” he continues, raising his hand upward, “Thine absence shall-”

“Can it, Elf-Lord!” Amaya snaps, tired of his overacting.

While everyone is breaking out laughing, I notice Sora wheeling up from the back of the class. “She'll be fine, Tomiya,” she assures him, “It's not that bad out there.” Not everyone picks up on Kenta's obvious joking, despite his tone dripping with sarcasm, but I think she's just playing along.

He likes playing to a willing audience...

“Forgive my suppuration, Vishpala,” Kenta replies, nodding at the dark-skinned paraplegic.

Supp- suppur- what...?

“I'm just lamenting her early egress,” he continues, “pay no mind to my sorrowful wailing.” His choice of words leaves me shaking my head, and draws a smirk from Tadao.

“You have got to stop reading those trash-fantasy novels,” Tadao chides, shaking his head, “they're reducing your vocabulary to purple prose.”

What?

My confused smirk hasn't gone unnoticed. “Look what you did!” Tadao remarks, reaching out to shake my arm, “You broke her fragile mind with your inane rambling!”

He's kind of right...

“How dare you!” Kenta balks, slipping into mock outrage. “Using the lady to defend your outrageous accusations! Shame on you, Sir!” he protests, smacking Tadao's hand away.

Stepping between us, he turns a steeled expression at me and announces, “Fear not, lass, I'll see to it this ruffian is dealt with properly!”

Turning back toward Tadao, he casts a questioning glance around the room and requests, “Can someone hand me my fighting trousers?”

This is escalating quickly...

Sora, who's been sitting there watching the exchange with a bemused, raised eyebrow, starts wheeling herself toward the door, stopping to comment, “Damn, Aiko... three guys fighting over you now. Can you maybe send some my way?”

Her remark causes me to laugh, but it incites a narrowing of eyes between my impromptu defenders—well, half of them at least. Tadao is just smirking and shaking his head while Kenta stares him down. The two of them sometimes break into battles of literary wits, and while Tadao has the upper-hand in eloquence, Kenta's drama club roots come in full force. It's always good for a laugh.

“I'm merely defending her feminine honor!” Kenta proclaims, pontificating with his good hand, “This brigand is-” he stops and smirks, then shrugs and adds, “okay, yeah... this is going a little overboard.”

“Y'think?” Amaya groans, rolling her eyes.

“Well...” Sora continues, lingering on the word, “anyway, don't let Jun's stories get you down. If I were in your place, I'd have jumped that Swooner of yours already... If I could jump, that is.”

Sora Vishpala doesn't mince words.

Surprised by her candor, I reply in a questioning tone, “Uh, thanks...? I'll... keep that in mind.”

“Lemme know if you're feeling adventurous,” she adds, calling back as she wheels out the door, “we'll make a night of it—just you, me, the Swooner, and a box of condoms!”

Wait... what...?

The implication takes a few seconds to sink in, and I'm left totally dumbstruck, but I think Kenta is just waiting for everyone else to laugh. There was something weird about her tone, if not the content, that stops me from laughing right away—I think she was serious. Amaya is the first to crack up, covering her mouth and leaning against the wall so she doesn't fall over, then Tadao joins in with his subdued chuckling, and Kenta follows, his hyena-like, loud guffaws echoing around the classroom. Soon I fall victim to infectious laughter, if not my own mirth, but I'm left giggling nervously rather than just laughing.

I haven't even had a twosome, never mind a-

“The best part is I think she's considering it,” Kenta muses, nodding toward me between laughs.

...I am not!

“Considering what?”

Hisao's voice interrupts my unspoken protest, and I turn to regard him, standing just outside the door, then laugh and wave nervously. “Nothing... absolutely nothing!” I reply emphatically, trying to sound innocent.

Change the subject, change the subject...!

“Nothing at all,” I add, clapping my hands together while directing a cold stare at Kenta—luckily he's too busy snickering to comment. Realizing the rest of the Student Council aren't at Hisao's heels, and that they were supposed to have work tonight, I quickly ask, “Hey! So... where's the dynamic duo?”

“They're going on a city trip tonight; told me I can do whatever,” he replies, casting a glance at each of our friends before grinning at me and asking, “wanna catch a movie or something?”

The implication of his question isn't lost on me, as I'm fairly certain he means in his dorm, rather than anywhere else. Even if that's the case, I'm eager to spend time with him, so I quickly respond, “Sure!”

Turning toward Amaya, I recall we had made plans to go do some shopping later while Hisao was sequestered in the Student Council room, but she probably won't mind a change of plans. Her approving nod comes with a shrug, and I turn back to Hisao with a bright smile.

“Yeah! I won't be busy,” I beam, then just to clarify, I start to ask, “In town, or...?”

Oh, now why would I say that...?

As I trail off, I realize we're surrounded by vigilant ears. My incomplete question causes a few raised eyebrows, but they don't know enough to really be suspicious. Glancing at Amaya, I'm met with a devilish smirk, but I can't lose my composure. While they might be completely clueless, I have to at least look convincing or I'll have to explain, and I'd rather not have to do that with Tadao and Kenta here—they're worse than Amaya.

Noticing my distress, Hisao quickly replies, “Yeah, the theater... in town.”

“Great!” I announce, “I'll get changed into something more com... fortable-” Stopping, I wince and glance around nervously.

That probably sounded suggestive...

Nobody seems to notice, so I quickly finish, “And meet you... at the gate?” The big, fake grin I end with hopefully looks more like enthusiasm than discomfort.

Luckily, my darling mystery man is adept at this kind of clandestine conversation, and he's nodding casually. His confident smile makes up for my bewildered stare, I think. Averaging out our expressions, we're perfectly normal, so that has to account for something. Brevity is probably the best defense against whatever they're thinking, so I step over and wrap my arm around Hisao's, then offer a slight bow to our smirking friends.

“Walk me out?” I request of my shifty-eyed conspirator.

Smooth like gravel...

Silently he complies, wrapping his other hand across to hold my elbow as we start walking away. Surprisingly, nobody calls after us with any suggestive comments, which means they're either fooled, or conspiring to make my life a living hell later—I'm going to bet on option two. Hisao doesn't appear any less flustered by the conversation, walking with a quickened gait and avoiding eye contact with anyone left in the halls.

When we've gotten through the exit and are out in the fresh summer air, he turns a smirk at me and asks, “My room, right...? For convenience sake?”

“Yes. I'll go change and meet you there in... half an hour?” I say tentatively, not really knowing how long it will take, “I'll knock three times.”

“Everyone knocks three times,” he states.

“Stop making this complicated!” I retort.

“Fine, three times,” he agrees, sending a casual glance around before ducking to kiss me on the cheek. “What movie do you wanna watch?”

Shrugging, I suggest, “I don't know what you have, so surprise me.”

“You might not like it, though,” he says, drawing a frustrated groan.

“We'll pick when I get there, then!” I retort.

Satisfied, he stops his incessant questions and we walk in silence. The not-so-causal looks from the various students milling about make me feel self-conscious, but I resist the urge to pull away from his side. The contact helps calm me down, really. I'm not exactly sure why that is, but I feel more nervous holding his hand at arm's length than I do with his arm wrapped around mine, practically joined at the hip. It's probably another one of those chemical things, but I'm not about to argue with biology—I'm not nearly adept enough to offer a solid debate.

I think I just like the warmth...

When we separate at the crossroads, we share a nod, and I walk backwards, biting my lip while I'm staring at his backside—not even trying to hide my lustful gaze. When he turns toward the door, I quickly look away, but I manage to catch his wandering eyes getting a good look at me, and it sends a shiver down my spine. That hazy feeling is left in its wake, and I pick up my pace so nobody in the common room has a chance to notice the redness I can feel spreading over my whole body. It's entirely chemical, not rational, but I'm tired of thinking—I want to do something.

Young love, he called it, an angel disguised as lust. That's what Miyoto said, and I'm beginning to understand what he meant. Love is fleeting, and might not last forever, so it should be embraced. If that means everything has to come crashing down later, I'll at least have enjoyed myself in the meantime—Joyce would be proud. Even if I can't hold onto it forever, I like this feeling, and I'm excited to explore everything that it entails. The million unanswered questions I still have about the future are suddenly brushed aside, and I'm left with a feeling of wanting.

I want him...

That thought keeps replaying in my mind as I ascend the stairs, and is still causing my heart to race when I reach my room. Once safely inside, I close and lock my door, then stand against it, panting heavily as I slowly wipe sweat away from my brow and neck. My mouth is dry, my chest is heaving, and there's a deep crimson hue running from my face, down along my neck, and probably all the way down to my toes. Feeling every inch of my body tingling with anticipation, it takes all my willpower not to leap onto my bed, strip myself bare, and let my hands try to satisfy my urges.

It wouldn't be enough...

Still, I can't just stand here. That won't accomplish anything. I gave myself half an hour to get ready, and I think I need to start with a freezing cold shower. After settling myself with a few heavy, controlled breaths, I leap at my laundry basket, fish out a dark green tank-top and some jean shorts, then head over to my closet in search of something special. A couple frustrating minutes of careful searching leads me to the prize; the lacy, black bra and panties Amaya bought me for the beach weekend.

Clothes in hand, I wrap the bundle in a towel, if only to hide the lacy fringe, and head out my door. Keeping my head down so as not to draw attention from the girls loitering around in the halls, I luckily find the bathroom empty. Stripping and standing under the shower-head, I crank the cold knob to full blast and let the cascade of freezing water push away the excitement. The redness fades into goosebumps quickly, and I can think more clearly almost immediately, but that clarity just reinforces my resolve.

Hisao is getting laid.

Emerging with my senses restored temporarily, I decide not to change in the bathroom—for fear of someone catching me half-dressed in lingerie—and instead wrap the towel around me so I can dash back to my room. Once back in my lair, I lock my door, drop the towel unceremoniously to the floor, slip into the new underwear, then decide to check myself out in the mirror; to make sure I look good. The enticing qualities had better match up with the ridiculous price Amaya apparently paid.

She does tend to spoil me...

Turning weirdly to see my behind in the mirror, I notice the material is very sheer, and I can see through the panties even in the low light of my room, but I think that's the point. The bra is equally sheer, and not as supportive as it looks, but it's only supposed to serve as window-dressing. They're both a little uncomfortable, riding up and chafing where they shouldn't, but they serve well to highlight my ample curves. Shrugging, I realize their objective is to entice and then be removed, not to be worn for a whole night—I can endure the discomfort for the shock value.

There'll be chafing, anyway...

Once I've pulled on the shorts and shirt, I make sure they hide the straps and lacy fringe, then sit down to brush my hair out properly. Whether because I want to look my best, or out of pure nervousness, I'm taking extra care with my appearance. Knowing Hisao, it probably won't be necessary. After seeing me in Hello Kitty underwear, he cracked a few jokes, but still thinks I'm sexy—his sexy nerd. Even my stupid half-moon glasses are attractive to him, which I should probably find suspect, but I've decided his sweater-vests are sexy, so anything is possible.

With my hair flowing like it's supposed to, I slip into some flip-flips and take a step back, trying to remember what I've forgotten. Sending my questioning gaze around the room, I notice my phone, and decide to take that along—just in case I need it for something. Nearby, laying face-down on my desk, is the book I've nearly finished, but I can't imagine I'll need that. Shrugging, I look myself over in the mirror again, give my hair a quick fluff, and head out into the hall.

As I start hurrying down the hallway, I suddenly remember what I forgot, and quickly turn back. Slipping through my door, I head straight for my closet to locate my raincoat, then start searching through its pockets, trying to find that little orange box. The thought occurs to me that my choice of clothing will make hiding anything in my pockets difficult, but I have every intention of practicing some responsibility if I'm going to jump Hisao like Sora suggested. In my partially-addled state, I get frustrated quickly, and nearly toss the coat aside before reaching a hand into the breast pocket and frowning.

I thought I put it in the side-pocket...

That's curious, but it doesn't matter. Taking the box, I stuff it into my shorts pocket and cast another glance at the mirror, this time checking my teeth, before bounding out the door. The only thing I have to worry about between here and Hisao's room are any wandering eyes, or questioning glances. Just dressing this way will probably draw attention to myself. Regardless of the underwear, I'm usually not showing cleavage, and I can't remember the last time I walked around the school without nylons hiding my legs—except early in the morning when nobody is around.

Unconsciously, I find myself keeping a hand over the square outline in my pocket, even though nobody will have any idea of its contents. Still, it's a box of condoms, and if anyone were to ask, I don't know how I'd manage to answer without sounding like an idiot. That, and knowing full well what I'm planning to do, makes me much more aware of the outwardly casual looks I notice from the girls in the dorm, and especially the few boys out in the courtyard. Most of it is probably my imagination, but that doesn't make it any less nerve-racking.

I'm dressed like this because it's hot out, they'll think...

It's really not uncommon for Yamaku staff to treat the dorms as being co-ed during the day; it encourages diverse study-groups, and spending time in the other dorm isn't judged. This week it's a little bit strange for any studying to happen, but as long as I'm out by curfew, nobody will bother to question my motives—that's how Amaya gets away with it, anyway. The butterflies in my stomach are making me nervous more than the actual situation, though. The prospect of what I'm planning to do makes me feel hot, nervous, and terrified.

What if he doesn't want me...?

My pace slows for a few moments as that thought strikes me, and I ponder whether that's even a possibility. Although neither has acted on it, there has been sexual tension between Hisao and I since before the festival, and I'm pretty sure he has the same lewd thoughts I have—well, probably not exactly, but something similar. Still, even if he fantasizes, that doesn't mean he's ready to act on them. It's possible he hasn't brought it up because he plans to remain abstinent until marriage. Then again, he's a guy, and guys usually aren't prone to practicing abstinence when faced with a willing partner, or so I've been told.

Mom wasn't specific, really...

Shaking the thoughts aside, I continue my trek across the courtyard and hesitantly through the door into the boys' dorm building. Inside it's still a weird place to me, mostly because of the stagnant smell, but I'm getting accustomed to the unkempt odor—I imagine a Naval submarine smells like this after a while. With me taking the day to visit with Hisao, Amaya probably dragged Tadao off on some errand or other, and Kenta will probably be meeting Yoko and Naoko, so I'm not afraid of seeing them in here—I'm still wary, though. There are a few guys hanging around in their common room, but none whom I think will recognize me, and I manage to slip by without drawing any attention.

It's eerily quiet as I tread up the stairs, then turn and follow along the halls, headed for room one-nineteen. The afternoon sun is starting to dip past the windows, and the lights haven't turned on yet, so the hallways are dimly lit. The carpeted floor is quiet under my feet, but there's a warning voice in my head that wonders if I might run into one last roadblock along the way. All my careful planning could collapse if Hisao's wily hall-mate is feeling particularly suspicious today. There's no sign of him as I approach, but Kenji could be lurking nearby, so I choose to remain vigilant.

As I step around the last corner, I hesitate for just a moment. Hisao's room, which I've only been to once before, is merely a few steps away, and the butterflies stop my feet. Since my first visit, he basically maintains a standing invitation, but I've been too wrapped up in my own neurosis to comply. My pocket feels heavy as the gravity of the situation strikes me, and there's a bead of sweat forming on my forehead, but I push aside the worried thoughts and try to remember the positive: I love Hisao, I want him, and this will be fun.

I think...

Removing the flip-flops, I approach the door stealthily, hold my breath, and reach up to knock lightly, three times. There's no response. Unnerved by the silence, I glance around and check the room number, but I'm at the right place. Waiting a few seconds, in case I caught him by surprise, I slowly reach up and try knocking again, just like before. Three light knocks, just like we agreed, but again I'm met with frustrating quiet. There's no voice, no shuffling, not so much as a peep, and I try looking down the hallway in confusion.

Did he leave?

As I'm reaching my hand up to try a third time, I hear the door at the end of the hall opening, and turn to see Hisao stepping out of the foggy bathroom. Holding a towel up and dabbing his wet hair, his eyes are closed, and he's wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxer-briefs. In his distracted state, he doesn't seem to notice me, and I'm so mesmerized by the sight that I can't even squeak out a greeting. There's something seriously alluring about the glistening beads of water rolling over his bare chest, and down along his legs.

I'm glad I got here early...

Obliviously and blindly, he walks toward his door, and I back away quietly while he opens it and slips inside, remaining totally unaware of his dumbstruck audience. When his door closes, I finally snap out of my stupor and shake my head. Blinking away the confusion, I reach up to knock again, and listen against the door. After a couple seconds, I hear footsteps and drawers being thrown open, followed by something akin to incoherent stuttering.

He really didn't see me...


Starting to laugh at his continued verbal fumbling, I inquire, “You alright in there?”

“Er, hey! Hi!” he greets, and I can hear loud stomping, “You're a little early.”

“That a problem?”

“No, just-” he stops and I hear something very loud crash to the floor. Afterward, I hear him groan and sigh, which makes me worried.

“What was that?” I inquire curiously.

“That? That was... uh... nothing, really. Just-” he stops again and I hear more banging.

“You sure you're alright?” I ask, smirking despite the continued worrisome noises.

There's a pause, followed by another loud bang, then silence. “Okay, I may need to fix my closet...” he says absently, “but I can do that later.”

The hell is he doing in there...?

A second later, his doorknob rattles and I shrink back as it swings open. With the towel still resting over his head, and a bold grin on his face, he stands there and shifts uncomfortably as he leans against the jamb. Somehow in the span of less than a minute, he managed to throw on some khaki slacks and a white t-shirt, but there's still soap clinging to his neck, and the shirt is partially soaked—I'm both impressed and disappointed. The disheveled appearance doesn't serve to sap any of the confidence out of his grin, though, and he gestures dramatically for me to join him inside.

“Welcome to my recently re-decorated abode,” he says, trying to sound as confident as he looks.

Eying him with a raised eyebrow, I comply, stepping lightly past him and trying not to laugh.

As I pass by, he explains, “Don't mind the mess; there was a closet malfunction.” Once I'm inside, he peers out into the hall, then closes the door and stands against it while I take a look around.

The collapsed closet is the first thing I notice, and the sight causes me to turn a smirk at him and shrug—it's kind of my fault, probably. Aside from that, it seems he took some of my suggestions to heart, and put a little more imagination into his decor. There's still no banzai tree, or a prescription-label collage, but there are a few movie posters hung on the walls, and a small bookshelf beside his desk, which he filled with a small collection of media.

Resting atop the bookshelf is a flat-screen television his parents had sent along when they mailed his summer clothes, and a couple of gaming consoles. My inquisitive look earns a hasty explanation, and I can't help smiling at learning he was once a gaming nerd. Evidently, when they weren't prowling the streets, he used to play a lot of fighting and racing games with his friends, but left them behind when he was sent to Yamaku—I'm holding back my enthusiasm.

I would so kick his ass at Mario Kart...

That thought can wait, though. There are more pressing matters that don't involve displaying my gaming dominance, but first there is the small matter of establishing a prelude. The cold shower served to calm my desires for a while, which is in part because I didn't want to leap at him as soon as we we're through the door. In keeping with that plan, I help him pick out a movie from his modest collection, then assist in the construction of a temporary seating arrangement by piling all his blankets and pillows on the floor next to his bed. It's not pretty, but it's charming.

Although I make an effort to seem interested, I would go along with any trashy cinema he suggested, but we end up choosing a romantic comedy. Why he even has any of those in his small collection is baffling, but after the surprises Sunday with the walk through the rain, table service, and a rose, I probably should have expected as much. There are only a few of them hiding among the anime, science fiction, action, and drama films, and they're all modern classics, but I seem to be dating a hopeless romantic, and, honestly, there might be one of those inside me.

If not, there will be soon...

Tossing that lewd thought aside with a flip of my hair, I watch him shut the lights off, pull the blinds, and sit down beside me. While he's starting up the movie, I sink down into the pile of pillows, lean against him, wrap an arm across his chest, and make myself comfortable. As the opening credits play, I turn a smile at the TV screen, and he rests his head against mine to whisper, “I usually don't watch these.”

Returning a giggle, I reply, “Your terrible secret is safe with me,” which earns a kiss on top of my head, and we settle into silence as the movie gets under way.



While we're watching, I try to keep my hands to myself, but the emotional roller-coaster of the film practically causes them to act on their own. By the midpoint of the movie, I've slipped down and curled up alongside him, resting my head over his heart, with a leg wrapped over his, and my bare knee gently brushing his thigh. The hand across his chest has inched its way down to his abdomen, and I can hear his breath quickened by the constant contact.

Meanwhile his hand is wrapped around my shoulder and held against the base of my ribcage, just below my left breast. The thought occurs to me that I could slip down a little bit lower to force his hand, but I remember there's a love scene approaching in the movie, and I'm biding my time until then to make my move. Still, I continue my gentle teasing, if only to excite his senses—I don't want to wait for him to catch up once I start.

Whether or not he's aware of my subtle hints, his body is responding to my advances. With his feet crossed, the material over his crotch is naturally pushed up, but if I moved my hand down there, I'm sure I'd find part of that tent isn't just the fabric. Aside from his quickened breathing, occasional uncomfortable shifting, and the obvious arousal, there's also an odor in the air I haven't really noticed before.

Usually when I'm around Hisao, I can smell the fresh scent from his bath soap and deodorant, which makes for a heady combination all its own, but now there's a subtle musky odor catching in my nose. It could just be something hiding in a corner of his room somewhere, but I'm fairly certain it wasn't here when the movie started. Whatever it is, I think it's probably coming from Hisao, and it might be his underlying scent—or something like that.

There's a lot of subtext and convoluted reasoning in the film, but, without being able to use his hands, the protagonist, a guy, uses a flower, lovingly brushed over his lover's skin, to slowly push her toward climax. As the scene plays out, I match its methodical pace, starting to nervously run my hand up and down Hisao's side, and strafing my knee across the tent in his pants—it's definitely not just fabric.

Turned on by my own gentle prodding, I can feel my heartbeat quickening, and that tingling sensation has returned, turning my skin a bright shade of crimson, but, in the darkness of his room, I don't think Hisao has noticed. Either that, or he's trying like hell not to react without my direct prompting. While I never thought I'd be initiating, or really even considering this a month ago, I'm too excited to wait for him to catch onto my hints.

While the movie lovers continue their tactile exploration, I roll myself over to straddle Hisao's hips, wrap my knees around his sides, rest my hands on his shoulders, and stare directly into his dilated pupils. The first reaction I get is a soft groan as I settle myself right on top of the conspicuous tent. The next is a wide-eyed stare as I move to lift away my tank-top and fling it into a corner somewhere.

Usually Hisao is good at maintaining eye contact, but he's definitely allowed to ogle wherever he chooses now, and the value of the sheer material is written plainly in his lustful gaze. While he's getting an eyeful of my practically bare chest, I use my arms to push my ample orbs together, lean forward, and, just to entice him further, start them jiggling—a big stupid grin tells me he appreciates the gesture.

Taking it as a cue to stop being nervous, his hands move up and he starts probing over the bra, his fingertips sending little jolts of pleasure that make me giggle, which I stifle quickly—I'm not really sure how to react. Biting my lip seems like a better response because it causes his hands to start kneading, though I'm not sure if the actions are actually related. Whatever gave him the idea, I hope he never stops because that electric feeling seems to multiply with each flick of his fingers, and I almost feel dizzy trying to process the sensations.

As he sends his thumbs to brush over my nipples, which are pressing stiffly against the thin fabric, I let out a little sigh and start sinking down lower, slowly grinding against his groin. The fabric serves to hide our bodies, but it does little to stop the sensations, or prevent the spread of warmth from exciting us both. Despite being behind two layers of clothing, I can feel the heat radiating against my thighs, and his erection pressing lightly against what Mom called my happy valley.

She used a lot of odd euphemisms...

All the sensory input hitting me at once pushes a gasp up out of my throat, but with my mouth slammed shut it erupts as a moan. Behind me, the movie scene reaches a crescendo, and I take that as a cue to dive forward and crash my lips against his, practically head-butting him in my sudden lust. While I'm exploring his tonsils, the roaming hands he slides around my back and down send chills up my spine, and I groan into his mouth when his fingers find their way inside my shorts.

Maintaining my composure gets even more difficult when those hands start rubbing along the curve of my behind, tracing across the lingerie fringe, and start to push the jeans down over my hips. My eager moans urge his hands to press harder, but with them buttoned, the shorts can't get far. Giving up on pushing them away completely, his hands slip around to the front and start pawing for the button, but a sudden groan announces a stop to his attempts.

Turning aside to break the kiss, he gasps and groans, “Wait, wait... Ow!”

The reluctance irks me, but I don't think it's hesitation; the position I've worked him into looks uncomfortable to say the least. With his head held up against the mattress, he lays nearly flat against the floor, pressed awkwardly by the extra weight resting over his legs.

“Think we could move this off the floor?” he requests, to which I nod and start to stand.

Catching both his hands in mine, I help him to his feet and grin apologetically for a moment. The look doesn't last long, as I've got him backed up against the bed. A light push against his chest sends him falling back into a sitting position, and I stand over him grinning lasciviously. While he pulls away the t-shirt, I rest against one foot, place a finger over my chin, bite my lip, start swaying, and enjoy the reveal.

On most days I'm treated to this show by the pool, but it's different in his room; there it's part of our workout, here it's for my viewing pleasure. The weeks of swimming have slowly toned his lanky body, giving it a harder look that I can't help staring at, and the scar just seems to add to the attraction. It's probably not as powerful of a reaction as he had to my chest, but the sight certainly adds to my desire.

“You're sure about this?” he breathes, his mouth hanging agape after the last syllable.

The question makes me furrow my brow, but it's hardly unexpected, and I decide to show rather than tell. Turning away slowly, I pop the button on my shorts and look back sidelong over my shoulder. His eyes remain fixed on mine for a few seconds, but when I start slowly pushing the shorts downward, bending over in the process, he abandons that pretense and gorges his vision on my lace-framed presentation. There's a tiny voice telling me that I ought to consider his heart condition, but I think the last month of stolen glances at my shapely behind have prepared him well enough, and I'm happy to oblige his fantasy with a little slow-motion teasing.

Drink it in, Swooner...

“You're sure about this,” he echoes blankly, his voice cracking adorably.

Retrieving the shorts on my way up, I reach into the pocket and extract the box, toss it into his lap, then let the shorts fall back to the floor. The look on his face is somewhere between shock and elation as he picks it up to examine the label, but there's also a hint of recognition. Watching him eye the box more closely, I feel a tinge of embarrassment because I think I understand why it was in the wrong pocket, but I'm not about to split hairs over something so frivolous.

So he saw them already... no big deal.

Once his initial confusion wears off, he sends his eyes back over me, and I turn around slowly to face him. My arousal is plain to see, as there's an embarrassing wet spot on the black panties, but that only enhances their sheer quality, and his eyes stop there. Despite having the underwear on, I'm functionally naked, and I'm nervous about how he'll react, but I think the mesmerized stare is answer enough.

Holding up the box, he croaks, “Safety first?” immediately trying to cover up the crack in his voice by forcing a cough.

With a cocky smirk, I step forward and up onto the bed, straddling his hips again. Leaning back, his eyes lose focus as the contact resumes, and I'm no less enticed by the warm sensation against my bare thighs. We're both radiating heat, and there are beads of sweat forming across his forehead already, but I'm concerned whether his reaction is enhanced by the arrhythmia. The last thing I want is for him to get overloaded, so I slide back to break the contact, then lean down to plant a few kisses along his abdomen.

“Don't hesitate to ask for a breather,” I coo affectionately, directing my statement at his heart. While waiting for an answer, I trace my hands from his chest down to his hips, feeling every muscled bump along the way, and smirking when a stifled laugh escapes his tight-lipped expression.

“Your hands are cold!” he protests breathlessly, making me snap a confused look at him. “Well, not cold so much as... never mind, I'm being stupid,” he laughs, shaking his head, “I'm not used to this.”

“Neither am I,” I assure him, a little surprised by his insinuation.

“That's not what I meant!” he retorts, “I mean... just...”

Thoroughly flustered by his own inane babbling, he sighs loudly and rests his head back against the mattress. Meanwhile, I giggle lightly and draw my hands downward, aiming toward his pants. The motion doesn't escape his addled mind, and I can hear him whisper, “Just think about baseball,” as I'm releasing the button. Apparently my teasing has put him close to delirium, which I think is a compliment, but I'm not far from that myself.

The thing worrying me is that despite having seen plenty of erect penises in pictures, mostly during late-night browsing, but also in class, I've never been in a room with one, and I'm somewhat nervous about how I'll react to the sight. With any luck he'll keep his head back like that and won't see my initial look of shock, or amazement, or—and this is the one that really scares me—a detached smirk accompanied by a disheartening hand-over-mouth giggle.

I don't want to end up emasculating him accidentally...
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Last edited by Helbereth on Wed Apr 17, 2013 8:54 am, edited 16 times in total.

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Helbereth
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Chapter 31 - Best Laid Plans (part 2) EXPLICIT!

Post by Helbereth » Thu Apr 11, 2013 7:01 am

NSFW warning continued from above.

Previous|Part 1|Next Chapter
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The disjointed thoughts are betrayed by a nervous wince on my face, but I don't think Hisao has noticed—his head is still planted against the mattress. As he lifts his hips, I slip down to the floor and tug, sliding the khakis away in one swift motion. With nothing but a pair of boring, gray boxer-briefs hiding it, the outline of his erection looks unnaturally large from my low angle kneeling on the floor.

Maybe I should have brought the other box...

“You okay?” he asks, snapping me out of my reverie. “You didn't fall, did you?”

My eagerness did send me flying backward a little fast, but I hardly noticed the sound I made when I hit the floor. “I'm fine, just...”

My attention span is surprisingly short-lived as my eyes go back to the tent in his boxers. There's a weird feeling creeping over me as I watch it twitching under the fabric, and it's making me consider something I always thought would be repulsive. Standing back up on my knees, I crawl forward a few steps, admiring the sight before me, while Hisao sits up on his elbows and eyes me with a concerned frown. The lust in my expression causes him to swallow hard, and I barely register that I've placed my hand on the elastic of his boxers before I'm pulling them away.

And... there it is...

Resting for a moment, I kneel and gawk with a wry smirk. Hisao has a look like he did something wrong as I sit up and start to approach, but it's basically what I expected. The stiff appendage is mostly straight with a slight upward curve, and he apparently keeps it shaved. The soft, round sack below it looks weird, but it's actually kind of cute, like a wrinkly peach. While it isn't as large as it seemed from below, it's definitely a lot longer and thicker than the fingers I usually use, and I'm reasonably impressed—I'm not giggling, that's for sure.

It's not as scary as I thought...

There's a small amount of sticky liquid perched on the tip, so I run my fingers across there, then start spreading it downward to coat the whole thing. I'm almost appalled by what I'm considering as I run my fingers over every fleshy ripple along its underside, but I'll let my hands do the exploring for now. With nothing stimulating me directly, I can detach myself from the experience well enough to see him absently gripping the sheets, and listen to his soft groans of encouragement. Apparently pleased with my handiwork, Hisao starts mumbling incoherently and falls back against the mattress.

Being careful not to grip too tightly, I wrap my fingers around the base and start sliding my hand up and down slowly, using the glistening liquid as a lubricant, which is more effective than I expected. The shaft itself is surprisingly stiff, hot to the touch, bright red, and seems to twitch with each stroke. With my other hand placed firmly on his thigh, I smile devilishly as his hips start rocking gently against my hand, and I inch closer, purely out of curiosity. With my nose hovering just over the tip, I draw in a breath and smile as a weird, hazy sensation spreads across my body, and the formerly repulsive thought becomes a desire.

Taking my hand away makes him whimper, but he calms quickly when I sink down and trace my tongue around the edge of its head, then dart across the tip. Wincing, my brain is expecting it will taste like urine, but it's not an abrasive ammonia taste. Instead, it's intensely salty, and reminds me of fresh oysters—the only raw fish I actually like. Going into this, I hadn't expected to find myself kneeling on the floor, ready to start licking and sucking Hisao's dick like some kind of cheap whore, but here I am, and I'm actually eager to get started.

Only because it's him...

It keeps twitching away, so I reach up and grasp the base again, using my hand to angle its stance more in line with my mouth. Deciding to take the cautious approach, I run my tongue along the bottom side, slowly teasing my way up until my lips are perched over the tip. There's a moment where I wonder whether I'll accidentally hurt him—there are more nerve endings in it than any other limb—but after hearing the pleasured sigh escaping his lips, I don't think he'll even notice any unintentional nibbling.

Groaning, he breathes, “Aiko-”

Whatever he was going to say gets lost in a slur as I take a deep breath and dip forward, sucking it into my gaping maw. Not being accustomed to the sensation, I can feel my eyes tearing, even though it's barely touching the roof of my mouth, but the salty taste and radiating heat are otherwise tolerable. After a few long seconds, I let go of the vacuum and lean back, slurping against him like I would a bowl of soup, which elicits a happy grunt.

Wasn't my mouth dry before...?

When I look up, I notice he's resting up on his elbows again, watching my every move. The lusty grin on his face urges me onward, and I start sucking down and slurping back in quick succession, all the while watching his unfocused eyes as they roll back and snap forward repeatedly. After a few strokes, I start establishing a rhythm, and I'm slowly able to sink deeper, drawing more of him down toward my throat. This has the effect of eliciting a near-constant string of stifled groans from Hisao's pursed lips, and that turns my attention to my unused hands.

Instead of furthering his ecstasy, which, judging by the sounds he's making, I don't think he really needs, I send them down along my body. Closing my eyes, I pretend they're his hands caressing my chest, and continue downward. As I repetitively slurp and suck, I run my hands across my nipples and end up humming softly instead of moaning, which elicits a euphoric groan from Hisao. When I get down low enough, I slip both hands into the lacy panties and start tracing my fingers along my sweat-slicked thighs.

As I slide a finger along the edge of my engorged opening, a sudden convulsion causes me to lose the rhythm, and I push down too far. My throat locks and I start to gag, but I manage to back off of him before I bite down, or start coughing. Sitting back to try and catch my breath, I wince and frown, thoroughly embarrassed by my zealous mistake. While I'm attempting to gather my senses, I look up and notice Hisao staring back at me with a worried look in his eyes, and there's nothing but sincere concern in his tone.

“Are you alright?” he asks pleadingly, wincing and holding out a hand, “Are you hurt?”

He doesn't even care that I stopped...?

This is the last thing I wanted to happen, but I'm starting to cry, and that makes his frown deepen. Taking his hand almost automatically, I'm a little surprised by how easily he lifts me off the floor to sit beside him. Leaning against his bare shoulder, I'm beside myself with embarrassment and guilt, so I close my eyes and let the tears flow. This whole idea is starting to feel like a failure, but I don't want him to get the wrong impression.

“I love you...” I say shakily, the words crackling in my exerted throat, “I wanted this to be perfect.”

In response, he wraps his arm around me, and I feel his reassuring grip on my shoulder, followed by his calming baritone. “I love you, too—you know that,” he assures me, starting to rub his hand along my arm. “It'll be perfect with you here—and this is scary for me too,” he remarks, trying to make me feel better, “all of it... you have no idea...”

Comforted by his tone, if not the words, I'm still feeling overwhelmed, but his confidence makes me feel safe. Despite the sudden stop, his first concern is whether I'm alright, and that says something about him: that he's really in this with me, rather than just for himself. The worrisome remark about how scary this is for him sounds like another smokescreen, but there's truth in his claim.

“I think I have some idea,” I manage to say, opening my eyes to look into his. “You could die,” I add flatly.

My morbidity just makes him laugh, which I suppose is better than the alternative. “What a way to go, though, right?” he remarks, giving me a light shove, “In the throes of love-making with a Goddess of the Sea?”

Hitting him lightly on the leg, I protest, “Stop it!” but when he turns back at me, smiling warmly, I add, “On second thought, never stop that.”

“You couldn't stop me, anyway,” he claims, and I have to admit it's probably true.

We both delight in the silly fantasies we've concocted, and ending them would feel wrong. Even though they're totally ridiculous, I've found they bring us closer. We're alike in that, I guess, if nothing else. They're probably part of the reason I'm in love with this nerdy, damaged, hopeless romantic. The way he's looking at me now, with that calm smile on his face, I think he'd even be fine with stopping this whole thing, but I thought I had it so well-planned.

“I had this whole plan,” I remark absently, “showered, got gussied up, wore something sexy-”

“Thanks for that,” he interjects, “very high shock value.”

Rolling my eyes at his awkward compliment, I sigh and add, “best laid plans of mice and men, though, right?”

“Well,” he starts to reply, smirking at me sidelong, “I have plenty more movies we could watch, and... we are naked... well, I'm naked. You're functionally naked... not quite naked... borderline naked?” While he's staring at me with a mischievous smirk, I start to giggle. “You look great naked, by the way.”

“I'm not naked,” I retort, “I'm still wearing underwear.”

“Semantics,” he professes.

“Empirical data,” I correct, nodding proudly.

“I'll give you empirical data!” he exclaims, turning me toward him and moving in for a kiss.

While I'm surprised, I'm not protesting. The feeling of being overwhelmed has passed, apparently pushed aside by his babbling, and now he's becoming the aggressor. That isn't a bad thing, it's just unexpected; I like that he's taking the initiative. The roaming hands that felt tentative and exploratory before have become more adept at their scouting, it seems. Instead of being content to tantalize over my bra, he pulls the elastic material upward, uncovering my bare breasts without having to remove the clip.

How ingenious...

Slowly and deliberately, he breaks the kiss and starts moving down along my jaw, leaving a trail of kisses along my neck that send shivers all over my body. As his lips wrap around a stiffened nipple, I lean heavily against one hand and close my eyes, fighting back a whimper. Evidently it's just a brief stop along the way, because he leaves my nipple alone and continues downward, pressing kisses along my abdomen while his hands run along my arms.

When his head sinks down low enough, I reach back and unhook the bra, letting it fall over his face. With it held against his forehead, he looks up and smirks. “Now you're almost naked,” he says, giving his head a shake to send the bra falling onto the bed, “you're beautiful near-naked, by the way.”

He really likes that word, it seems...

“Better than Yoko or Amaya?” I inquire sternly.

He pauses to place a kiss over my belly-button, which forces a giggle out of me, then looks up and grins. “They were too far away to really enjoy... but you're way better,” he replies, looking back down and continuing to sink lower, “especially up close.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I coo, sliding back and trying to look demure.

I probably look stupid...

Without another word, he moves his hands down along my sides, gripping the lacy material on the way, and starts pulling the panties down. The material sticks to my bare skin, and the sensation of it peeling away makes me groan—I'm so sensitive I can feel his breath. The wonderment in his eyes as he takes a longing look over my smoothly shaved nether regions almost makes me feel embarrassed, but I don't feel self-conscious so much as nervous.

It's the same feeling he probably had when it was my turn...

“Now you're naked,” he whispers, and I barely manage to nod in agreement.

Once the panties are pulled completely away, I feel his hands pressing gently, parting my legs, then slowly creeping upward, and I find myself pawing at the sheets with my head tossed back. Delicately, his hands move over my skin until his fingers start tracing a line over my inner thigh, and continuing between my legs. Trying to stifle my reaction, I suck in a breath and hold it, but that isn't enough to stop the guttural groan.

“I'm not hurting you, am I?” he asks, but all I can manage is a stilted head shake.

The next few seconds are a blur of sensations as his rough fingers start rubbing haphazardly. Usually my own fingers don't provide such a reaction, but his are warmer, and totally out of my control. Every little stroke sends a jolt of electricity that I can feel running straight into my brain, and it's turning my thoughts to mush. With my eyes closed, and my head back, I can't see what he's doing, but I can feel every nuance, and just when I think I'm gaining back some control, he slips a finger inside.

“Hisao!” I groan, snapping forward, the word forced out reflexively.

Whatever he heard in my surprised tone, he's undeterred by my reaction, and continues probing. Sitting up now, I find myself watching his somewhat clumsy motions, which are effective despite being erratic. His twitching and rubbing leaves me breathing heavily, and I start moving my hips in an attempt to guide his finger, but he's too distracted by the sight to understand my attempts. Just as I'm noticing the parallel between my tentative hand-play and his own, I'm introduced to a warm, slimy tongue gracing along my outer folds, and that sends my back arching.

Instead of calling out his name, I bite my lip and groan while sending my hands straight out to my sides. Clawing at his sheets, I start to pant and moan, almost beyond my control, while his hands start reaching up to tease along my abdomen. Where that would usually cause me to giggle, it instead sends additional jolts of pleasure up along my chest, and I can feel every hair on my neck standing upright. Addled into a state of euphoric bliss, my hands practically work on their own, moving down to grip his head and try to pull him closer.

“Wrph!” he groans, but I manage to draw his tongue inside, and my following sigh of ecstasy encourages him to continue.

So much better than fingers...!

The fingers were warm and unexpected, but his tongue is positively hot, and the erratic nature of its motions almost don't matter. Each little twitch sends a wave of tingling pleasure over my body, and I can feel my muscles tense and relax with the rhythm of his ministrations.

Strangely, while he's licking my insides and I'm being blasted with little waves of euphoria, a thought strikes me that this would be a lot better using a more appropriate tool. With that thought in mind, I slide forward and catch his hands, causing him to pull away immediately.

“Too much?” he asks tentatively.

“Not enough,” I correct, pulling him up to his feet.

Before he can say anything else, I stand up beside him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, then meet him with a very wet kiss. Having never tasted myself, I'm a little shocked by the powerful smell on his lips, but it's not entirely repulsive—almost sweet, really—and he hasn't complained. Not letting that thought make me hesitate, I use my hold to edge him back toward the bed, and push him down to sit before me. While he absently traces a hand along my hip, I spot the the partially-crushed, orange box, reach over him to retrieve it, and pop it open as I stand back.

Holding it up, I chide, “Safety first,” to which he nods approvingly.

When I've removed one of the foil-wrapped packages, I nod toward him, and he follows my motion to lay back on the bed, pulling his feet up and laying out flat—almost flat, anyway. My eyes lock onto his engorged appendage, and, placing the package in my teeth, I hop onto the bed and straddle his knees. There's a worried look in his eyes, and probably a question he doesn't want to ask, but there's little stopping me at this point. This is going to hurt, I know, but I'm ready for that part, and I trust Hisao enough to believe he'll let me work that out before he gets too zealous.

Tearing the package open, the orange, latex sleeve actually does smell like citrus, but I'm too busy trying to figure out what to do with it to care. Looking down at his erection, I'm not sure if this thing will really fit, but I'm probably just making up reasons to hesitate. Meanwhile, he's watching me with a curious expression, as though he knows more about this than I do, but I think he's just trying to look confident.

“It rolls on, I think,” he states.

“I know!” I lie, reaching out to hold his dick in place, somewhat forcefully. While he's wincing, I place it against the tip and remark absently, “like... this...”

Rolling it out slowly, the condom covers all the way to the root, leaving a little air pocket at the tip. Ignoring the silly look of it, like an oddly-shaped carrot, I slide forward and raise myself up on my knees. With that look of worry back on his face, he places his hands on my hips and nods lovingly, waiting for me to start.

“Stop if you have to,” he says reassuringly, to which I nod.

Brace yourself, Swooner...

Reaching behind me, I guide his covered shaft until the tip slips between my folds, then start sinking down slowly. As it spreads the entrance, I sigh contentedly, but it's mostly the heat making me grin lustily. Suddenly I feel him against the thin barrier inside, so I bite my lip and close my eyes, steeling myself for the coming hurt. Like ripping off a band-aid, I plunge downward, and the shock of pain causes me to double over.

Catching my shoulders, he lets out a groan of pleasure, followed by a low whisper, “You okay?”

Am I okay...?

The pain is harsh for a few seconds, but tolerable, and decidedly brief. With Hisao holding me up, staring at me lovingly, it really isn't that bad. Additionally, I now have him pushed half way inside, and the throbbing of his pulse starts to cancel out the feeling of discomfort—like I'm being massaged from within. When I start leaning back, he lets go of my shoulders and places them on my knees, still looking concerned, but he's starting to smile again.

I'm okay...

“I'm fine,” I assure him, looking down with a lascivious smirk.

Before he can reply, I start sinking down again, and he loses whatever he was going to say in an incoherent gasp. My own guttural moan matches his, and I slowly start rising and falling in earnest. Each downward thrust drives him deeper inside, and each little twitch sends a jolt of pleasure, making me forget my inhibitions. The dull ache that remains is so faint I can barely feel it anymore, replaced with tingling euphoria that excites my vocal cords into continual moans of pleasure.

Nothing I've ever managed to do with my fingers even approaches this feeling, and I'm starting to make a lot of noise. Hisao is decidedly quiet, apart from the heavy breathing, and he's coherent enough to notice my sudden loss of composure. Reacting quickly, he leans forward, hugs his arms around me, and meets my lips in a deep kiss to muffle my continued moans. After a few moments, Hisao pulls his feet under himself and starts matching my movements, raising his hips with my down-strokes. Each rhythmic thrust pushes me closer to ecstasy, and any feeling of pain is completely gone.

My body starts following its own rhythm, of which I feel like I'm only in control of the speed. Timed with my quickening heartbeat, I drive down and feel every bump teasing along my insides, then rise up until I've almost pulled away, before sinking again. Meanwhile, his hips lift up to meet my strokes, and his twitching, thrumming staff starts to feel bigger, like it's growing with each thrust. I can practically feel the blood surging through my every capillary, and it feels like every nerve ending in my body is ready to short out, but I'm able to maintain the rhythm.

Slowly he starts losing control as well, but the signs are more subtle. His whole body is flushed red, and he keeps tensing his shoulders and flaring his nostrils, but he's eerily quiet, as though he's concentrating. The erratic heartbeat I can feel radiating against my bare chest, and between my legs, is quickened like that of a bird, and his thrusting starts to become more erratic over time, but he doesn't look distressed so much as determined. Feeling as though I'm on the verge of climax, I break the kiss and I bury my face into his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

The feeling is apparently mutual, because as I'm reaching my zenith, he groans and starts thrusting faster, pushing me into overdrive. Feeling his dick start to expand and contract pushes me past the breaking point, and I crush myself against him, halting the thrusting after one final drop, and trapping him deep inside. My whole body tenses as my climax unleashes a rain of euphoria from my head, and sets my whole body to quivering. The involuntary shaking and contracting of my inner walls causes him to groan something unintelligible as the pressure inside shifts, and his climax sends hot fluid shooting against the thin condom, driving my orgasm to redouble.

Stuffing my mouth against his shoulder, I barely manage to stifle my continued cries of ecstasy. For whatever reason, be it love, biology, or something I can't begin to describe, being locked against each other, entwined so completely, makes riding out my climax feel a million times better than when I'm alone. In the moment of clarity as my shaking starts to subside, I'm certain it really is love, however silly it might sound, making it better simply because it's with Hisao.

I love him... he loves me... and I think it's enough...

After a few long moments, the tension holding us together breaks, and he falls backwards, utterly spent. Collapsing against him, I continue heaving heavy breaths, and grinding my hips slowly as aftershocks course through me, each one followed by a happy groan from my exhausted lover's pursed lips. When I've recovered my senses enough, I slip off of him and roll against his side, wrapping my arm across his chest lazily.

Lovers... I can call us that now...

Laying against him, pawing at his scar absently, I start to notice he's recovering slowly, and it has me a little concerned. Ignoring my fatigue, I crawl up beside him to hover over his euphoric-looking face for a moment, and find myself admiring his afterglow. His heavy breathing continues, and his eyes seem to have lost all focus, but there's a certain quality to his tired gaze, almost like he's radiating happiness.

I probably look similar...


“Are you... okay?” I ask breathlessly, concerned by his delirium.

“I'm great,” he replies groggily, though he's still not focusing, “how're you?”

Taking a moment to think, I smirk and reply, “Sweaty, tired, and naked, but otherwise fantastic.”

“Naked, yes... fantastic, good...” he mumbles, wiping a hand across his sweaty brow, “Empirical data achieved.”

And then some...

The pace of his recovery is still a concern, but he's regaining control over his breathing, and that's a good sign. While he's still somewhat delirious, I reach over and extract the messy condom, which makes him grunt and wince, then toss it in the trash before laying back down beside him so I can watch him breathe. Once I'm sure his respiration has returned to normal, I reach down beside the bed to retrieve a blanket and a pillow. As I'm pulling them up over us, he breaks out of his skyward trance and rolls over to kiss me on the cheek.

“You're... amazing,” he compliments, still sounding a little breathless, “that was... like... I don't even know-”

Stopping him with a kiss seems appropriate, and effective. When I break away, I sigh contentedly and reply, “You too... way better than my fingers.”

The leading response makes him stop his quick retort, and he raises an eyebrow at my blatant confession. Now that we've shared the experience, I don't feel embarrassed admitting my weakness for self-satisfaction. It's probably a little too much information, but I feel like I can share that with a lover, now that I have one. Happily, it doesn't seem to bother him, which makes me feel like less of a deviant.

“Me too,” he replies, sucking in a breath, “I may have to retire my hand...”

“Okay, it's cute when I say it, but-”

He cuts me off with another kiss, and I sigh inwardly instead.

Worth it...

As we're laying here, recovering under the covers, I start to feel like I could go for another ride, but I doubt he's ready for that—physically or mentally. That doesn't stop me from trying, so I start sending my hand over his chest and arms, and planting little kisses on his shoulder. As I'm starting to elicit a response, I notice a scared look in his eyes and decide to stop my teasing.

“Sorry, I'm just eager, I guess,” I apologize, earning a hand around my shoulder.

“I think one near-death experience is enough for today,” he retorts, making me laugh. After a moment he adds, “I love that you're eager, though.”

Fixing a serious look on him, I remark, “Whenever you're ready.” A careful nod is all the response I get, which is enough for now.

While he continues nodding, I settle against his side again and rest my head on his arm. Laying here with his arm around me, completely naked, I can't help starting to think about what we just did. It really was amazing, far better than I expected for my first time, and I really would mount him again this instant if he were ready. However, there's a guilty feeling starting to creep over me, and it's ruining my lover's high a little.

There's no doubt I love Hisao now, and very little doubt that the feeling isn't mutual. The prospect still scares me, but if I can lose some of my inhibitions for him, I should be able to drop all of them. That leaves me with another moment of clarity. All the things I've been keeping from him roll through my mind: the jealousy, the stupid future plans, and even my disease. They're walls that somehow seem superficial and unimportant now, certainly less frightening, and almost childish; like I only hold them up to keep myself down, trying to sabotage myself for no good reason.

Over the past weeks, I've been waiting for an opportune time to tell him, and laying beside him naked seems like as good a segue as I'll ever stumble across. We're alone here, there's nobody to perk their ears at our private conversation, and I really do feel totally safe with Hisao. Looking over at his still-somewhat-delirious smile, I can't imagine him taking anything I say poorly, and after seeing his reaction to my foul-up earlier, I think he'll be willing to work through anything I throw at him.

It's time I told him the truth...

Sitting up, I collect the blanket against myself and turn a longing look down at his smiling face. There's comfort in his eyes, and a question on his lips, but he remains silent. Watching me carefully, he sits up and drapes an arm over my bare shoulder. Looking into his piercing brown eyes, I almost lose my nerve, but he finds my hand under the covers, and starts stroking it ever so gently with his thumb as he leans forward.

Sometimes he just knows what to do...

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The words make me laugh nervously, as I recall I used the same question the other night. The sincerity in his expression is more than enough to give me the resolve to say what I must, but I still wince at the prospect of his reaction.

“There's something I need to tell you,” I start to say tentatively, “about me... about-”

The words catch in my throat, and I choke back the lump, trying not to let it halt my progress. Some of my hesitation is probably due to post-coital emotional overload, but I think I have control over that now. It helped me reach this conclusion, and I don't want to waste the opportunity. His reassuring hands are also working their magic, and after a few moments I regain my composure.

“It's something I don't-” My words are cut short by a sound erupting from somewhere nearby.

It's muffled, and I'm embarrassed suddenly as I recognize the source is my phone. Even more mortifying, it's the Imperial March from Star Wars, and I finish my breath with a stifled gasp, “Mom!?”

So much for nobody being around...

Looking at Hisao, I realize I have two choices. Such that it's Mom calling, and I never did call her back after Amaya's tip Sunday, I can either answer it now, or wait two minutes for it to ring again. That really isn't much of a decision to make, so I shrug at Hisao and explain, “Hold on, I have to answer this.... She'll just call right back if I don't.”

“Okay,” he replies, offering a reassuring nod, “I'll be waiting.”

I believe that.

While I'm diving off the bed in search of my shorts, he rolls away and closes his eyes. It's totally unnecessary, as seeing me naked is one of the perks he can enjoy now, but still completely adorable. To placate his desire for modesty, I pick one of the other blankets off the floor, along with the shorts, and sit on the edge of the bed. As I'm fishing the phone out of my pocket, I can't help but wonder what I'm going to tell her, or whether she'll ask, or if she already knows what I've been doing.

Sometimes she just knows things...

Realizing she isn't psychic, can't possibly know what was going on, and I'm being ridiculous, I steel myself with a breath, tuck the blanket against me and press send.

“Hi, Mom!” I say cheerily, trying to sound innocent.

“Ah, I see you got your phone back finally!” she replies, making me roll my eyes.

“Yeah, she told me you called,” I say, turning a glance at Hisao, “what's up?”

“Am I interrupting anything?” she asks, making me wince.

“No, nothing!” I reply, probably a little too excitedly.

“Uh-huh,” she says, sounding less than convinced, “If you have a boy in your room, I could call back.”

She can't possibly...!

My eyes gape and I silently scream, looking at Hisao and wondering if she somehow got a camera planted in his room. Casting my eyes around to look for little red lights, I notice Hisao eying me strangely and stop. Shaking my head, I realize she's just trying to mess with me. Besides that, I'm taking entirely too long to answer, which makes denying it feel silly, but I realize I can count on her being half way across the world—she can't see where I am, at least.

“We're out for a walk,” I lie, trying to sound convincing, and keep the terrified quiver out of my voice. Hisao raises an eyebrow at hearing my lie, but nods; I imagine he doesn't want my mom to know what was happening either.

His life could be forfeit...

“Oh, well in that case I'd like to say hello,” she says brightly.

Crap on a stick!

“Um, well...” I say, stalling so I can relay her request covertly. Holding the phone with my shoulder, I sign, [She wants to talk to you,] while biting my lip and widening my eyes.

His first response is to shake his head and raise his eyebrows. [Are you kidding?]

After I throw up my hands in dismay, he closes his eyes and starts nodding slowly.

[What do I tell her?] he inquires, but I'm not sure what to tell him.

There are just too many possibilities...

“Kitten, are you there? Didn't fall asleep, did you?” Mom's saccharine voice causes me to look down at the bed and groan silently.

“Yes, still here,” I reply.

“What did you tell him? I just want to say hello.”

Yeah, right...

“Okay... hold on,” I concede reluctantly, wincing as I'm looking back at Hisao. [Just say hi.]

After handing him the phone, I watch him fumble with it nervously, then hold it up to his ear, fixing a horrified stare on me all the while. “Um, hello, Misses Kurai-Sama.”

She hates honorifics... I could have mentioned that...

Though I can only hear half the conversation, which mostly consists of simple yes or no answers, I can imagine the barrage of questions. Basically, she screens any of my male friends. Her simple hello will quickly devolve into a series of borderline improper questions about his family, their history, wealth and standing, and other things usually left for later conversations—Kenta and Tadao both got the same questionnaire.

“Uh, um... n-nothing like that, Misses Kurai, I-I wouldn't-” he stops, interrupted again.

None of the aforementioned were ever really romantically involved with her daughter, though, and I've told her Hisao and I are dating—plural—which probably makes her questions more personal. Despite what she interrupted, watching Hisao's expression shift as he faces her inquisition is almost as fun as watching it happen in person. I probably shouldn't be laughing at him, but I find myself grinning stupidly when his eyes bug out after hearing another question.

“Yes...! No... Definitely not!”

When he slides down off the bed and stands, then turns away, I frown and slap the mattress, feeling like someone stepped in front of the television during the best part of a show. Although, watching him stand there, completely naked, talking to my mom on the phone, is somewhat surreal, so I can forgive his desire to keep the conversation private. Still, I can't resist wanting to toy with him a little, so I stand and drop the blanket, then walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his chest, making sure to press myself close against his back.

“Ha- What? Sorry... I think I stepped in something,” he lies, trying to keep his composure.

With my bare chest pressing softly against his back, causing him to blush, his attempts to chase me away with his free hand are somewhat uncoordinated. After a few attempts, he stops thrashing and just tries to ignore my hands tracing along his chest, and closes his eyes to try and concentrate. No doubt he'll have a few choice words for me after their conversation is over, but I'll gladly endure that for the bright, toothy grin that won't leave my face. Having Mom find out what's going on is the last thing I want to have happen, so I don't tease him any more than I think he can handle—which means staying above the waist.

This time...

“I-I really don't know much about my grandparents,” he replies to another pressing question.

My mother would probably march down here and yell at me loud enough to blow out the windows if she had any idea about what I'm doing, either that or she'd congratulate me—she's fickle like that sometimes. That probably won't happen, though. If I'm reading their conversation right, she's basically threatening his family, and promising to rain fire down on him if he does wrong by her daughter—like inviting me over for movies and sex. It's frightening, but also sweet in a Machiavellian sort of way. His deference to her threats is probably the safest route.

When he starts turning around with his eyes closed, I surmise I'm right about the threats. “She wants to talk to you,” he says flatly, holding out the phone for me to take.

Grabbing it tentatively, I sit back down on the bed and pull the blanket over myself.

“Hi, Mom, did he pass?” I ask with a conspiratorial giggle.

“Oh, he's a delight!” she replies cheerily, “Don't tell him I said that, though. Need to keep the fear of retribution in him; it's the only way we can keep them in their place.”

Rolling my eyes, I blow out a sigh, “Right, Mom...”

While she's talking about some news with Midori—something about her winning a prize for a science fair—I observe as Hisao starts searching for his clothes. There wasn't much care taken to keep them localized, and I do start to wonder where my panties ended up, but I can figure that out later. He turns a bemused smirk at me after finding his boxers bunched up against the door, but I just shrug and pretend I'm paying attention to Mom's rambling.

“Mm-hmm,” I say absently, not even sure what I'm agreeing with.

“Are you even listening?” she asks, the piercing quality of her voice making me pull the phone away from my ear.

How does she always know...?

“Yes, Mom,” I reply, wincing at Hisao.

“Good. As I was saying; I have news about our visit,” she says, and that piques my interest.

“You're still coming, right?” I ask, my question making Hisao perk his ears toward me.

“Of course, dear! That's what I wanted to tell you; we'll be boarding a flight tomorrow night,” she explains, making me blink in confusion a few times, “We should be checked in at the hotel by Thursday afternoon!”

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but I smile brightly when I realize what she means. “You're heading here early?” I ask tentatively. Hearing my hopeful inquiry, Hisao smiles and walks over, looking interested, if not excited.

He did say he wanted to meet them...

“Precisely!” she beams, “I'll be renting a car, so I can pick you up and take you out for a belated birthday dinner. I was thinking Friday. You can bring along whoever will fit in the car.”

“Great!” I shout a little too loudly. Regaining control of my volume, I ask for confirmation, “Friday night, then?”

“I'll call you with details after we get settled and nap away the jet-lag,” she replies.

“Okay, I'll keep my phone with me, then... in case I'm in class when you call.”

“Don't get caught,” she advises.

“Don't worry, I'll put it on vibrate. Finals are over, and Ito's usually cool about it anyway,” as I'm saying that, I remember he's not my only teacher, but I don't think any of them will really mind this week.

Except Miyagi, maybe...

After laying that bit of news on me, she starts asking about finals, how well I've been eating, whether I've been sleeping, and all the typical questions of motherly concern. Some I can answer happily, but I keep my recent insomnia out of the conversation, and I'm definitely not mentioning the actual progress of my relationship with Hisao, which she seems more than eager to discover. Meanwhile, Hisao puts away the movie and starts trying to fix the crossbar in his closet, still wearing nothing but the boxers—I find myself watching him more than I'm paying attention to Mom.

“I'll see you soon, then,” she says as we're about to end the call.

“Give Midori my love,” I say, drawing a happy giggle, “and don't worry about calling.”

“Alright, alright... give your boyfriend a kiss for me,” she says sweetly, making me blush.

I'll do more than that...

“Will do... and Mom,” I pause, turning my eyes toward Hisao. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Kitten,” she replies, and I'm too busy watching Hisao to hear the line cut.

[I love you, too,] he replies in sign, making me smirk.

Unabashed, I toss the phone on the bed, stand up, and drop the blanket again, which causes him to blush and try looking away. After a fifteen-minute, uncomfortable phone conversation with my mom, I'm not going to take that as a response. Walking up close, I wrap him in a hug, and squeeze him tightly as I whisper, “Thanks for being you.”

A lesser man would have crumbled against her inquisition...

After a few seconds, he wraps his arms around me and replies, “No problem, uh...”

The nervous tone in his voice makes me look up at him and grin. “Just wanted to hug you—don't get too excited,” I assure him before dipping back down again, and listening to his heartbeat quicken.

“Trying not to,” he replies, still sounding unconvinced, “but it's ha- err.. difficult... with you being-”

“Naked?” I prompt, proceeding to squeeze him tighter, “You'll just have to get used to that—you'll be seeing a lot of it.”

Instead of saying anything, he just nods and starts rocking us side to side. After a few moments, I release him and lean back, looking up to see him closing his eyes again.

“You're allowed to look,” I chide, to which he shakes his head.

“Temptress,” he retorts, “Kenta tried to warn me...”

Turning away, I crouch down to pick up my shorts and move over to sit on the bed. While I'm pulling them on, I mention, “Kenta never saw me naked.”

That makes him laugh, but now that I've left him standing there, he has a moment to think. “You were saying something before she called...” he remarks, trailing off and turning away while I'm standing to button the shorts. “Sounded important,” he adds, and I start to nod, but I think I want to hold it back for a little longer.

Not that I don't want to tell him anymore, but I think if I can get some perspective from Mom beforehand, it'll make me more comfortable. “It can wait,” I say tentatively, “it is important, and I don't want to hide it anymore, but... I want to ask Mom something first... if that's okay?”

“Couldn't ask on the phone?” he quips, but I'm prepared for that.

“It's private, and-” stopping myself, I realize I'm being a little shifty, so I rephrase. “It's a big deal, and hard for me to talk about, so... just... be patient?” There's a tinge of guilt in my voice that he can probably hear, but I'm being honest, at least. This really is hard for me to talk about, and I'm not holding it back so much as delaying the release. I have every intention of telling him regardless of what Mom says, if she even has any advice to offer.

I hope he understands that...

“Okay, say no more,” he replies, furrowing his brow as he nods, “can you put your top on so I can open my eyes?”

Right... back to that...

“I love that one-track mind of yours,” I reply, turning to start looking for my shirt.

After finding it hiding behind his desk, I pull on my little green tank-top, and we sit down on the bed for a while, just sharing the silence of the afternoon. Today has been a series of firsts, and I feel genuinely happy for the first time in a while. We got the physical thing out of the way, and I'm inclined to further that experience at his earliest convenience, as often as possible. My indecision about whether I can trust Hisao seems to have resolved itself; his patience is proof of that. With that came the clarity I needed to see how silly I've been for keeping my secrets.

Mom's early visit couldn't have been timed better, really. With Hisao planning to leave on a train Sunday afternoon, Mom and I should have plenty of time to talk about how she handled Dad's news before he leaves. Then it will just be a matter of getting him alone—which I'm no longer afraid of doing—so we can talk about it properly. That leaves him with a few days to wonder what I'm not telling him, but I don't think he'll mind that so much once he learns the truth.

It's a big secret, and worthy of consideration...

The rest of the day lazes by as we sit and talk about what he should probably try to be aware of when facing Mom—and Midori for that matter. It feels a little wrong giving him a cheat sheet, but I really want them to like him, and I'd rather not send him in blindly. In my imaginings, I've always thought Dad would approve of Hisao, but Mom can be fickle, and prone to sudden changes of heart. The chipper tone in her voice after their brief discussion hinted that she really did like him, but I don't want to take any chances—first impressions are important.

Friday should prove interesting...
____________________________________________________________
Previous|Part 1|Next Chapter

This spoiler isn't really a spoiler since the non-spoiler-tagged spoiler spoiled the whole thing anyway, but I don't want to spoil it for people who read backwards.
So that just happened. Sort of knew it was going to a LONG time ago, but there were all these plot things standing in the way--imagine that. All I'll really say is that trying to keep the perception right, and not get lost in ridiculous scenarios, meant a lot of rewrites. There have been scattered portions of their consummation scene floating on the edges of my notes since before Act 3. Hopefully, it hits the right timbre for Aiko's internal monologue, and doesn't seem farcical--I tried to portray it with a bit of realism rather than fantasy.


Guesses for the movie should be interesting.[/spoiler]
Last edited by Helbereth on Wed Apr 17, 2013 8:54 am, edited 8 times in total.

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BlackWaltzTheThird
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Updated 04/11/2013 (Chapter 31 posted)

Post by BlackWaltzTheThird » Thu Apr 11, 2013 8:51 am

Finally! The sexy time! I can't wait to post about this. AT LAST!
Helbereth wrote:“they're reducing your vocabulary to purple prose.”
Sounds like a meta-shot at someone. Or someones, as it may be. I wonder who.
Helbereth wrote:happy valley
I died. I had to hastily make up some bullshit as to what I was laughing at so I didn't have to say "oh, just the choice of language in some fapfic on the internet". I normally hate silly metaphors, as much as I hate vulgarity, but you justify them as being drawn from Aiko's mother, so I'll let it slide. You'd better elaborate on this at some further point to back it up though.
Helbereth wrote:licking and sucking Hisao's dick like some kind of cheap whore,
Again, I'm not one for vulgarity, but I think it suits the context of Aiko's thought here.
Helbereth wrote:“Um, hello, Misses Kurai-Sama.”
Would that be Mrs.? Now that I think of it, I have no idea what the expanded form of that is, or even if there is one. Well, aside from the bogan slang, "missus". According to Wikipedia it's derived from the word, "mistress", and the plural abbreviation just uses "Mmes" or "madams". Food for thought. Also, ew yuck non-English phrases. Bad bad bad bad bad.

Also, I just remembered we're on a split path here. There's been a far few chapters since that split. And a fair few of these events will be occuring in the other path, I suspect... I wonder how you will handle it.
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Updated 04/11/2013 (Chapter 31 posted)

Post by naxxar » Thu Apr 11, 2013 11:47 am

Oh Gosh. Plenty of that made me laugh. HAPPY VALLEY. I have to say Helbereth i think this fic is probably my favourite one. I love routes written from the girls perspective rather than from the rather bland Hisao.
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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Updated 04/11/2013 (Chapter 31 posted)

Post by Helbereth » Thu Apr 11, 2013 12:04 pm

BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:Finally! The sexy time! I can't wait to post about this. AT LAST!
It's been a long time coming (mind the pun... and the mess).
BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:
Helbereth wrote:“they're reducing your vocabulary to purple prose.”
Sounds like a meta-shot at someone. Or someones, as it may be. I wonder who.
Not really, no. Honestly, it just fit the scene.
BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:
Helbereth wrote:happy valley
I died. I had to hastily make up some bullshit as to what I was laughing at so I didn't have to say "oh, just the choice of language in some fapfic on the internet". I normally hate silly metaphors, as much as I hate vulgarity, but you justify them as being drawn from Aiko's mother, so I'll let it slide. You'd better elaborate on this at some further point to back it up though.
That phrase was jotted down in her mom's original bio, and I got it after searching for ridiculous vaginal euphemisms--your reaction was my intent. All you know of her mom is the few little phone conversations, and Aiko's references, but there's a whole person there, and she's quite... unusual? In any case, she is headed to Yamaku for a visit quite soon, so you'll understand soon enough.
BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:
Helbereth wrote:licking and sucking Hisao's dick like some kind of cheap whore,
Again, I'm not one for vulgarity, but I think it suits the context of Aiko's thought here.
I allowed myself only a few vulgar instances, and this seemed like a perfectly applicable internal thought at the time, in context.
You should see the original complete scene before I rewrote the ending... you would have choked.
BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:
Helbereth wrote:“Um, hello, Misses Kurai-Sama.”
Would that be Mrs.? Now that I think of it, I have no idea what the expanded form of that is, or even if there is one. Well, aside from the bogan slang, "missus". According to Wikipedia it's derived from the word, "mistress", and the plural abbreviation just uses "Mmes" or "madams". Food for thought. Also, ew yuck non-English phrases. Bad bad bad bad bad.
I had to do some digging to find the right honorific, and it seemed appropriate for his first time answering to her--I really don't like them either. Even Misha's use of -chan is hard to leave in place, sometimes. As for the Mrs. versus 'Missus'/'Misses', I tend to prefer phonetic spelling in dialogue--I usually spell out numbers and such, at least in later chapters. Since I haven't ever come across an instance of the 'u' version, I used the one I've actually seen.
BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:Also, I just remembered we're on a split path here. There's been a far few chapters since that split. And a fair few of these events will be occuring[sic] in the other path, I suspect... I wonder how you will handle it.
If you only knew...
naxxar wrote:Oh Gosh. Plenty of that made me laugh. HAPPY VALLEY. I have to say Helbereth i think this fic is probably my favourite one. I love routes written from the girls perspective rather than from the rather bland Hisao.
Yes. A lot of it was designed to cause fits of laughter. I get the feeling I'll end up with the term Happy Valley etched into my tombstone...

When I started, I admit I considered writing it from Hisao's angle first, if only briefly. The problem I had with that is the list of peripheral characters I wanted to include, and Hisao's relative isolation from them. Besides that, his perspective has been done ad nauseum, and attempting to write the beginning felt contrived--thus I dove into Aiko's head.

It's been quite a learning experience, really... I'd be interested to find out if my guesswork and trickery has actually struck a feminine chord.

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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Updated 04/11/2013 (Chapter 31 posted)

Post by Mirage_GSM » Thu Apr 11, 2013 2:42 pm

I had to do some digging to find the right honorific, and it seemed appropriate for his first time answering to her--I really don't like them either. Even Misha's use of -chan is hard to leave in place, sometimes. As for the Mrs. versus 'Missus'/'Misses', I tend to prefer phonetic spelling in dialogue--I usually spell out numbers and such, at least in later chapters. Since I haven't ever come across an instance of the 'u' version, I used the one I've actually seen.
What I found more surprising was the combination of "misses" and "sama." Using both seems a bit redundant.

And good job with the H-scene. It's probably one of the best I've read outside of KS itself.
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Mader Levap
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Updated 04/11/2013 (Chapter 31 posted)

Post by Mader Levap » Thu Apr 11, 2013 2:52 pm

Yep, it was certainly better than most of scenes that I seen or read. Good work.
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