Based on a superb APH fanfiction by shadowshroom :)

Have fun ~

"Loosen Up, Ichi-berry!"

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun. It's over between us."

And everything fell apart like so... He had endured the back-breaking pressure of a rigid Japanese undergraduate college, seventeen years of mutual residency with a buffoon of a father, and, more recently, the completion of a thirty-page essay on the ethics of business (an ironic subject by all means). And yet, the abruptly collapsed relationship which he once had with Orihime Inoue stung like none other.

It was a hornet's sting magnified...intensified...and then cubed. In other words, the break-up hurt.

Nonetheless, Kurosaki Ichigo could rightfully admit he foresaw doomsday's arrival; he and Orihime never slept together even after their year-long relationship, and they barely held hands at all - not to mention Ichigo's unbending schedule rarely allowed him to treat the girl to a lavish dinner or spoil her like a conventional boyfriend would do. And in fact, Ichigo could barely stomach a conversation with her scatterbrained, bubbly self. After all, what subjects normally preoccupied her mind? Victoria's Secret push-up bras?

In conclusion to the beginning of his misfortune, Orihime finally found her modern-day Lancelot: Uryu Ishida, a fellow companion of Ichigo's (not anymore, of course), and a physics major. Imagine that - a physics major! Ironically enough, while he was discussing his nerd-driven ideas about electromagnetism and special relativity, she was supposedly smothering him under those heavyweight bosoms - which would explain why his glasses needed such frequent repair.

Perhaps Ichigo should have paid better attention during physics class...

...or dyed his hair black to "fit in."Or not have scowled so often. Or just have borrowed Disney films from his sisters and educated himself on how to act more like Prince Charming.

Speaking of his sisters, little Karin and Yuzu were staying over at his apartment for the summer, just as the redhead anticipated finishing his term. Damn. As much as he loved those two, their visitation was not as warmly welcomed during a time filled with such social and academic complexities.

And those complexities ultimately seduced him straight into the goddess's arms: alcohol.

So, Ichigo settled himself in a dingy bar across campus to drink until his heart's content and until an infant migraine began to punish his head with pounding thumps. After a request, his life-long friend and part-time bartender Shuhei Hisagi handed him a packet of ice to cool the headache, and the redhead gladly dabbed the back of his neck with the sodden bundle. Needless to say, the "solution" failed to ease the throbbing.

"Maybe you should just stop drinking." The raven-haired man proposed, which allowed Ichigo to respond with a cheeky gesture involving his middle finger and a smirk.

"I'll be fine."

"Alright," Shuhei hesitantly replied. "Just don't vomit on the counter."

As he ambled away to service another customer across the bar, Ichigo was left to wallow in a realm of accumulated self-pity and internalized stress while keeping his head riveted onto the granite counter-top. Ignoring the dribble of alcohol streaming down his chin, he began to assess his current situation; the rent was to be due in two weeks and Shinji Hirako's office had recently not been paying well despite Ichigo's evident attempts to rationally balance academia with a part-time occupation. Little Yuzu wanted to watch the newest Pixar film at the theater, and Karin had expressed desire to attend a soccer game the following week. Oh, but where to find the money and the time, especially when those two failed to realize how much their older brother scraped to somehow maintain a substandard living in the mad spiral of a painfully intense and miserable existence...!

"Ichigo?"

His thoughts collapsed as Ichigo shifted his waning attention to whoever had mentioned his name, allowing chocolate eyes to notice the ebony-haired, lithesome figure slip into a seat adjacent to his own. He blinked.

"My, my, it is you. I didn't know you frequented this place, too, Ichigo."

Ah, Rukia Kuchiki: brilliant, charismatic, captivating with her dry sense of humor, and not to mention Ichigo's own professor. As daunting as her intense lavender gaze appeared up close, Professor Kuchiki's delicate and airy build made her seem not the least bit intimidating to her students when, in fact, the lady lived up to her notorious reputation on Rate My Professors by being one of the harshest graders to ever set foot in the university. Each of her prying students knew Professor Kuchiki held familial ties to Kuchiki Byakuya, a renowned politician in the Japanese Parliament. Though her brother reigned as the shining beacon of the Kuchiki household, Rukia prided herself as another brand of genius.

She had acquired a Ph. D in Economics from a university in Switzerland and taught advanced students who were merely a few years younger in terms of age. Hah, economics was quite the sleep-inducing subject, but Ichigo had often noticed how love-struck his male classmates became when she began teaching curves and even rational expectations, of all things.

Professor Kuchiki was damn smart; too smart for those bumbling bastards. And, yet, here she sat in a dimly-lit bar ordering a cranberry Seabreeze along with the rest of those flubbing, drunk losers with reddened and dilated pupils.

"...why?"

"Why what?" She suddenly turned to her strawberry blonde student and asked, apparently concerned judging by her expression.

"Why are you getting tipsy with the rest of us?" Ichigo inquired, finally wiping his chin. "Shouldn't you be in your office failing the whole class?"

Rukia had to smile. "Well, I like to take a break every now and then, Ichigo. And now that you mention it, I did grade the essays. Yours was especially brilliant. Well done."

The redhead curved his lips into a feeble grin. "...was worth it."

"A major test grade is always worth your time and energy." Rukia said as she leaned closer to her student. "By the way, you don't look too well. Are you feeling alright?"

"Nah, not really."

"Would you like to tell someone about whatever dilemma you're facing?" She asked, lowering her gaze.

At this point, Ichigo desperately wished for some rapid gust to sweep him up from his seat and force him out into the middle of the afternoon traffic where the chances of dying were represented by a ratio of 9 to 1. But, to no avail, and he found himself stifling back tears in a state of grogginess, seemingly destined to harbor an incessant hatred for the betrayal of his ex-girlfriend...and even Uryu, the physics junkie.

He had never treated her badly, never insulted her or purposely tried to make her feel less than a princess. He simply hoped that she would be patient enough to wait for him to become established, and, of course, she wasn't.

Ichigo felt a soft fabric trail along his fingers and noticed Rukia placing a sheet of tissue between his quivering fingers as a gesture of sympathy.

He quietly murmured, "I lost my girlfriend."

"Oh."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Were you two in love?" Rukia finally asked, breaking the stiffness. Though, the question failed to make her student any more comfortable.

"I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to tell myself - convince myself - that we were. Maybe, I feel guilty knowing that I neglected her interests many times so I could keep doing everything in life that made me miserable. Then again," Ichigo paused to sniffle. "...we were too different, worlds apart, and realized it too late. Ultimately, I know that I was a selfish bastard, and I should wish her the best."

Fuck, when did I become such a goddamn pussy?

Somehow, the brief confession, despite its sentimental value to the strawberry blonde, did not change the expression on Rukia's face one bit. And, it successfully made Ichigo feel even more pitiable. Was he really that much of an unbearable person, so much so that the two people, once close to him, chose to betray him behind his back? Since he was to continue pursuing his studies for a while, Ichigo felt that he would never find a girl to love and marry until...until he was a fuckin' geezer. All that sacrifice for a Ph. D - just to be called "Doctor?" Really?

Rukia brushed a thumb against her lip. "Orihime Inoue?"

"What...how did you -"

"I'm not oblivious to gossip, Ichigo." She smiled. "I know what you and your peers discuss, and I'm actually surprised that you dated a girl like her. I've always thought she was a bit too...well, frothy and airheaded. She didn't suit you, but then again, I didn't know her well."

"I just need to survive this month..." Ichigo murmured under his breath before suddenly realizing an important note he had scribbled down his journal a month ago: exam tomorrow...

Oh shit.

"Arghh..." He groaned, mentally smacking himself upside the head for neglecting such an important event. "I...I've got to go."

"What's the matter, Ichigo?" His professor turned to her perturbed mess of a student and asked.

"I just remembered that I have an exam tomorrow...damn, and I've been so caught up in this quarter-life depression that I backed out of studying. Plus, Professor Ukitake most likely left his class already, so I'm fuckin' screwed."

"Philosophy?"

"Yeah."

"What will you do about it?"

"Get screwed over, like always."

"Well," Rukia replied as she finished the glass of Seabreeze and placed a hand on her student's shoulder. "I'll tell you what, Ichigo. You can come into my classroom for a while and I'll help you to prepare for tomorrow's exam. It was always one of my better subjects."

"W-wait, Professor Kuchiki, are you sure about this? How would you -" Ichigo mumbled, his head foggy, and then realized his professor was clutching his fingers.

"It's no trouble, kid," She winked. "Besides, I can't bear to let one of my brightest students fail, inside my own class or not."

The heavy door clicked open as Rukia pressed in her key to unlock it and led her student inside the dim classroom; the window blinds had been pulled down, allowing only a fraction of the descending sunlight to protrude from the outside, and the desks were aligned in the typically ordered fashion like Professor Kuchiki preferred. She was so Baroque.

Settling her purse down, Rukia watched as her student unloaded the contents of his backpack and pull out a hefty, one-thousand page textbook. Somehow, seeing the scowling young man, the same one who had encountered disciplinary issues before due to his rebellious bright head of ginger locks, become so sober and earnest about his studies made him even more enigmatic yet likeable. Yeah, Kurosaki Ichigo, the man who had never spoken a deceitful word to anyone and never harbored any of the requisite brassy haughtiness of his college peers, was quite the exceptional kid.

"Hey, thanks again, Professor. I really do appreciate this."

"No problem."

Rukia had constantly studied him from her own island, her desk by the corner, and noticed his peculiar brilliance - an utter blossom in a room full of careless, sexually-charged children who thought they were adults because they either owned a car or fucked over ten times. She graded the major essays over business ethics; many reeked of bullshit, some were written by professional "shadow scholars" that habitual cheaters hired, and a few were actually full of backhanded sexual jokes (which she could not dare to tell Byakuya about).

But, the redhead had composed something actually honest and worthy of publishing, which demonstrated his clear intellect and ethical approach to schoolwork.

"Professor Kuchiki," Ichigo spoke up, with his back facing his teacher. "I have a question about the free response portion."

"Yes?"

"Alright, I know this is philosophy and not economics, but how much time would you recommend spending on the...t-the...uh..." Honey-brown eyes widened in stupefaction as Ichigo's breathing suddenly slowed, his exhales becoming less frequent and rather strained by the sudden contact from the nimble, delicately shaped fingers that trailed down his back and quickly settled above the knuckles of his own hands. He sniffled to test whether or not he was dreaming, but smelled the fragrance of vanilla shampoo instead.

A quiet moan tickled his ear and sent a jolt of unwelcomed (and unexpected) pressure to his nether regions.

Wait a moment. Professor?

"Go on." Rukia whispered in a sultry tone, pressing her body closer to Ichigo. "You had questions..."

"...P-Professor Kuchiki! God...what are you..."

"Shh...don't be too loud, Ichigo. I don't want anyone who might still be outside to hear us."

Ichigo pulled away and turned around, ready to accuse his professor about the inappropriate infraction which had just transpired between them, but once his widened eyes caught sight of his raven-haired teacher unbuttoning her blouse with one hand and using the other to gradually tug her pencil skirt downwards, he paused and those confrontational words vanished from his dumbstruck mind.

"Minding what I just said, though, I'd love to hear you cry out." She inched closer and closer to her immobilized student until their bodies touched once more and kissed the crook of his exposed neck, fingers tugging at his buttons.

"We can't..." Ichigo groaned, resisting, though his hands failed to move. "...Professor Kuchiki, w-we can't do this here."

He denied her deliciously sensual touches and caresses with half-hearted whispers of the negative, but soon enough the redhead found himself sitting on Rukia's desk, with the scattered papers and documents lingering in a disorderly mass on the tiled floor as she intensified her aggression by heedlessly ripping two buttons from his shirt. Rukia swooped down to suck on Ichigo's sweltering, hot skin with her diminutive, kitten-ish tongue as she stroked the bulging muscle trapped in his pants.

"This is my classroom, I can do what I want." She moaned happily after feeling how heavy his special "package" weighed in her palm. "And I've always wanted to do this."

"Professor..."

"You can stop me if you want, Ichi. Anytime."

Damn you, Professor.

His mind swam helplessly in a blur of lust and confusion while enduring the assault of his professor's wicked little tongue...and wondered how that pink muscle would feel as it trailed down other places of his body, sucking and licking fervently with saliva and other fluids dripping down the black-haired beauty's chin. Ichigo could not deny how wrong it was to currently be trapped in such a risky position with his superior. He was a student, and she a teacher with much to lose if anything went wrong. He had an exam tomorrow which he could not afford to sacrifice; furthermore, the thought of Professor Kuchiki's promise for afterschool help enraged him once he realized those assuring words were a maneuver used to lure him into her arms.

Pause.

He could select the most rational option: leave and request a drop in the class or file for sexual harassment, then return home to study for the upcoming exam like a good boy. He could indulge himself for once in his life by engaging in torrid, steaming sex with a bewitching woman who most men would die for simply to kiss, with her silken black hair and intensely expressive eyes that glistened like gems. Or, he could straighten himself, calm the raging hormones of his professor (somehow), and endure an hour-long tutorial session with her while ignoring her sexual advances as well as an inevitable bulge in his pocket.

Well, option one was practical...

But his attempts to retreat, gather his belongings, and storm out of the classroom in furious indignation failed to occur once Rukia finally unzipped his pants and smirked.

Fuck it all.

The tinier woman crawled onto the desk as she tore off her skin-tight skirt to reveal a supple, bulb-shaped bum and her bright yellow Chappy lace-panties, and moaned for Ichigo to help her unbutton, which he obediently responded to by slipping off her blouse. He wrapped his powerful arms around her waist as she sat on her knees, watching her handsome student nibble at the edge of her bra. And finally, Rukia captured his sanity by pressing her plummy lips against his own and simultaneously scooted closer to savor the incredible sensation of his tongue wrestling with hers. Pink lips sucked and kissed, licked and bit, causing Ichigo's erection to harden painfully.

Holy shit, this woman knew what she was doing, and he absolutely loved the sensual, naughty slurping sounds she made.

"Mmm, Ichi." Rukia moaned and pulled away to catch air, much to Ichigo's sudden dismay. He reached out to continue touching her, accidentally planting both hands on her breasts instead in a daze of excitement and thrill.

"Oh, fuck. Sorry..." He apologized weakly.

"No, no." His professor cried out, completely out of breath. "Ah fuck, that felt so good. Ichi, do it again. Please, touch me anywhere you want."

And so he did - with joy.

Pretty soon, after the complete disposal of her undergarments and glasses (while keeping her black heels on), a naked Rukia rested in Ichigo's lap as his gifted fingers eagerly explored the nether areas of her tight, sensual body which Ichigo could not get enough of. He quickly learned to cherish its svelteness and soft texture as one hand cupped a breast, leaving the other hand to slowly encircle and penetrate the hot, weeping cavern of her womanhood.

Ichigo was sure he had never felt so aroused before, not even with Orihime, which Ichigo was quick to forget about as Rukia moaned in carnal desire for her student to go further, deeper.

"Ah, ahh...Ichigo." She whined, tipping her head back as pleasure left her throat breathless and her body aching for more. "Ichigo...don't stop, keep doing that - yes, oh fuck, your hands are incredible."

Ichigo smirked and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Want me to go deeper, squeeze you harder?"

"Yeah. Please, please keep touching me."

"Ah, how about I add another finger?"

"Oh, mmm, Ichi..." Rukia moaned hotly as she felt her entrance widen with the addition of another digit. "They feel so good inside me. So hot...so fucking hot."

"Professor..." He groaned, twirling his fingers around while allowing his thumb to brush over her most pleasurable, button-shaped area. "Mmm, you're so goddamn tight. I can't let you go."

"Then...don't ever."

The two individuals fervently rubbed against each other, with Rukia's hands gripping Ichigo's ass as he nibbled the shell of her ear and continued to amplify her arousal with the naughtiest words to ever spill from a human being's mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist, brushing her bare pussy against his covered erection, something which Rukia would soon uncover from its confines and enjoy her berry-head student to the fullest. Rukia was completely naked and vulnerable to his touches, though Ichigo's shirt and pants loosely remained. Somehow, knowing her lover's clothes had yet to be torn off made her feel sexier and more eager to please this strapping spectacle of a young man, who passionately pleasured her with everything from light kisses to hot, lusty suckling of her skin. Yeah, hickeys would definitely appear by evening.

But, she didn't mind being marked by the redhead, and thus encouraged him to proceed with his delicious physical assault by tearing his shirt off, revealing toned, sun-kissed arms attached to a full chest of lean, yet beautifully sculpted muscles. Whichever god envisioned and created this man needed a temple dedicated to him - instantly. Rukia was so enthralled in the resplendence of her lover's body that she even considered possibly sending the boy's parents a gift as an act of thanks - "Thanks for doing a great job in the baby-making department with your wife, Mr. Kurosaki. Your son's a knockout."

Indeed he was.

Stripping off his pants and finally those goddamn boxers which stifled his erection for so long, Ichigo hovered over his professor and spread her legs further apart. Just the simple gaze Ichigo had plastered on his face, full of heat and animalistic desire, compelled Rukia to arch her back slightly and brush apart her thighs even more and with greater welcome as she breathlessly moaned his name again and again.

Fuck, she was hot. And seeing his own professor, the one who all the students feared and simultaneously respected, become a weeping mass emitting the hottest, whorish little moans and pleas of penetration into her tight body...the sight of her before him forced the thoughts of Orihime and her deception, her lies, and her rejection to be flushed out from his mind completely. Fuck Orihime; Rukia was classier and much smarter.

"Ichigo..."

"Yeah?" He softly replied, feeling Rukia brush his cheek as a beautiful smile set her exquisite face aglow.

It was amazing how this little lady could make him feel this way. Sure, Ichigo had indulged in this sort of bodily pleasure with his girlfriends before, but he was never left wanting - desiring - more from those women after each sexual encounter. Perhaps, he never searched for or established a sentimental bond with them, and therefore they lost the sparks quickly, allowing them to decay along with those meaningless conversations and exchanges of "I love you."

Ichigo never told Orihime he loved her because he never did. And never will, thanks to this raven-haired beauty.

"Do you feel good?"

"Yes, really good. I...I've never felt like this in my life. Professor Kuchiki, you're -"

"Rukia." She quickly interjected, correcting him. "Call me Rukia from now on."

Ichigo never could have imagined, beginning from the first day in her class to now, that the woman who always arrived to school donned in her conservative, benighted clothes and dark reading glasses, and never acted brashly or without class would be the one to make him want to utter those three little words so bad. He was not some impatient teenager overwhelmed by lust or lecherousness; Ichigo could rightfully admit his most intimate and passionate feelings to this woman immediately.

After all, she had always encouraged Ichigo's pursuits with her level-headed words, aiding him with the best and most thoughtful advice. Professor Kuchiki - or, Rukia - had never demoralized or deceived him, never fell short of his expectations, and whenever he did manage to blunder, she always forgave and helped him improve. He needed that, and just now realized it.

Hell, if they ever became an item after this encounter, Ichigo would gladly travel to the ends of the earth, to hell, and back for her - again and again, until she loved him.

"Rukia..."

"Mmm?" She sighed, fingers stroking the back of his neck.

"I want you. Fuck, I want you so bad."

His subtle pleading echoed in her ears like the sweetest siren's song, thus encouraging her to moan with more sultry passion. "And I want you inside me. Now."

After a bout of frenzied kissing and nimbling, Ichigo inched closer to his professor and guided the pink head of his swollen erection into her perfectly tight and soaked pussy; he watched her as he sank into her body, gazing at her with mesmerized eyes while she squirmed and moaned, begging and pleading for the young man to fill her completely with his manhood.

How the hell was this woman ever single before finally making sweaty, passionate love to Ichigo?

She looked absolutely delectable as she mewled when Ichigo began to pound into her juicy cavern, first slowly for adjustment, and then progressively quicker and harder. Ichigo pulled back and immediately thrusted back into her with aggressive force, making Rukia cry out in the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced. She wanted this young man to make her see stars and fireworks explode as juice squirted out from her hot little hole...she wanted him to cum inside of her, have her tightness milk him of every last drop until he lost his mind. She wanted him bonded with her, and would have agreed to let him pound and thrust and shove into her and never stop.

"Ohhh, mm, aahaaa, Ichigo ~ " She whined helplessly as searing pleasure streaked throughout her body, making her lose the remnants of control which remained. "Ichi, Ichi ~ Yeah, keep fucking pounding into me like that with your huge cock. Ahh, ahhh fuck!"

Ichigo did as told, immensely turned on by her breathless moans and slutty whines. Plus, hearing his usually well-mannered professor curse like a mantra was just hot.

"Ahh, Rukia, you're fucking tight. You're killin' me." He smirked, just as breathless. "Fuck, Rukia...I want to see you ride me. I want you sitting on top of me and riding me, will you do that?"

She agreed to the switch of positions with a giggle, which was quite uncharacteristic of her, but at that point anything the little lady did or said was enough to make Ichigo overheat and melt into a puddle of love-struck mess. Ichigo grabbed on to her slender, perfectly-shaped hips while keeping one hand on her butt. He smacked it with brute force, eliciting a sensual gasp from Rukia's throat as she impaled herself onto Ichigo's engorged penis, sinking deeply and then rising upwards with a moan. Soon enough, she began bouncing up and down, enjoying - no, loving - the way his rock-hard erection fulfilled her burning desires for this man.

"Mmm, oh Ichi..." Rukia sighed and attempted to control her breaths. "Ahhh, you deserve an 'A' for this course. Y-you, you feel so fucking good, so, so big..."

Ichigo smirked and landed a second slap on her bubbly ass, which she received with a smile. "Mmm, I take that back. I'm giving you an 'A+' instead."

In his frenzied daze, the redhead continued to eagerly and energetically squeeze and occasionally slap his professor's behind, the frequent contact leaving her springing ass swollen and tinted with rosy red. Rukia proceeded with the bouncing, and swiftly intensified her actions once "Little Ichi" found her hot spot and began to pound mercilessly against it. Damn, Ichigo was good in bed...or on the desk.

"R...Rukia, I can't hold it in any longer..." Ichigo sighed wantonly, his hand retreating away to grab Rukia's breast. "Ah! Ah, fuck...you're pussy is so goddamn tight, wanna be inside you forever...ahhhh, Kuchiki-sama."

With one harsh squeeze of her bosom, Rukia climaxed with a cry of heaven-sent joy while quickening her pace to ride out her unbelievably gratifying orgasm; as her cavern tightened with pleasurable shocks flying throughout her spent body, Ichigo came as well. Scorching white liquid erupted from his swollen penis, filling and drowning the expanse of Rukia's tight hole in a wave of searing cum and bodily fluids. He groaned, smirking as he eagerly emptied himself into her lithesome body, rosy and tender from the hour-long love-making which had occurred, and, sadly, just ended...but with a wonderful, heavenly finale.

"Mmmm, Ichigo..."

Rukia remained on top of him, slowly easing downward from a deluging sense of exhaustion. Meanwhile, Ichigo remained inside her, pulling out once his penis softened; he smiled and pulled his professor closer to his chest, planting a soothing kiss on her cheek as she bathed in the afterglow of their very special bonding experience.

Resting her head above his pectoral muscles, Rukia tugged at her student's arm and allowed it to rest on top of her body in a sweet and cushy embrace even as the conditioned breeze from the vents sent slight shivers down her cooling flesh. Nonetheless, this...this moment felt nice. Wondrous. Neither of them felt guilty or soiled by the experience, only hypnotized by it all: the touches, the kisses, the excitement...

Ichigo was certain he would be smiling for a long, long time after this moment.

So much for studying for that philosophy exam.

Whew, done :)

I'm satisfied with this ending, but I'm not sure if I should continue this in another chapter.

If anyone wants it to continue, please do tell me. I'll see how many people ask, and possibly add a second chapter to make it a two-shot. Also, don't forget to review and tell me about your thoughts.

Thanks!