Ichigo's head slammed to the floor. Hard.

"Damn it, Tatsuki!" He grunted as he sat up on the waxed hardwood floor of the Karakura public dojo, running his hand over his obnoxious orange hair on the bruised area as he did so. "How many times do I have to tell you that a spar is just that: a God damned SPAR!"

The addressed merely smirked and crossed her arms.

"You can't tell me that you haven't taken worse." She said slyly.

It was true. Through all of his trials and tribulations Ichigo had endured more beatings, cuts, bruises, and other, less pleasant injuries than most children with…err…more…abusive fathers could claim. However, the confrontation that had cost him his powers had, unfortunately, quelled his apatite for such activities. His reflexes were, however, sharp as ever, even stuck in the pitiful meat sack of a body he was forced to occupy as an ordinary human.

"You know, I didn't agree to come down here a few times a week to beat on a girl. You know I won't try to seriously hurt you, so why not let up a little?"

A telltale glare appeared in his opponent's eyes.

"Right now, I'm no less of a girl than you are." Tatsuki rebuked.

"Could have fooled me." It was Ichigo's turn to smirk. He barely dodged the fist that served as his partner's retort.

"Pretty good at squirming around on the floor!" She yelled in anger and derision.

"You think?" Strawberry responded, adding in a swift sideways kick to Tatsuki's shins, knocking her flat on her backside. "Maybe you'll gain a little perspective from down here with me." He continued, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

This was a rare occasion in which Tatsuki couldn't come up with a witty taunt in response. First off, the impact of her ass meeting the floor had somewhat winded her, and second…that grin.

Since Ichigo had lost his powers, he had seemed so sullen. At first Tatsuki had thought that he felt helpless, powerless. That is why she had insisted he came down to spar with her; he wouldn't be able to live knowing he couldn't protect those he cared about. However, the sessions had hardly helped with his outlook. Her friend walked away with an endorphin rush and a couple of friendly bruises, but within a day his demeanor had reverted to its former, gloomy state. Tatsuki found herself staring at the telltale grin appearing on Strawberry's face with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia.

It disappeared. Instead, a look of concern established itself on Ichigo's strong, angular face.

"Are you alright, Tatsuki?" He asked, a little overbearingly. The creases of his eyebrows, his cheekbones and his mouth deepened as he worriedly looked over her for signs of injury.

Feeling his gaze fall upon her and seeing the exaggerated contour of her friend's face made Tatsuki experience two major epiphanies. The first was that Ichigo didn't miss fighting. On the contrary, he hated it. Every time they crossed fists, she had felt a reluctance to cause harm in his punches. And now, as she sat dazed, this battle-hardened warrior dithered over her like a mother hen. Hard hands, soft heart. All this time Ichigo had been missing the company of his friends, both those from the Seretei and those he had distanced himself from to avoid pulling them into the Winter War. He had been mourning the loss of intimacy, not bloodshed, in his life. It was moments like these that he needed most, not blows exchanged.

The second epiphany: Ichigo was damned good-looking. Not that the thought had never crossed her mind, but here he was, all grown up and all alone with her. The pronounced angles that made his face, those brown eyes that seemed to be leagues deep, that orange hair that was always just the slightest bit tousled…

No, stop! She caught herself, embarrassed to have been experiencing such girlish thoughts. This was Ichigo, for Christ's sake. Ichigo! Ichigo…DAMN IT!

"Tatsuki…?" Ichigo said once again, the concern on his face deepening. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm…I'm fine." She said, sounding more out of breath than she actually felt.

"You sure? I didn't mean to be too rough with you. I was just kidding around." He stated, standing up and offering a hand to her. She blushed without meaning to.

Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! "I…can get up…myself." Tatsuki responded, eyes to the ground. An awkward, painfully slow ascent of her own ensued. "See?" Her eyes still wouldn't meet his.

"Um…are you pissed because I caught you off guard? Again, I didn't mean to-"

"Hurt me? As if! You're not even a shinigami anymore!" Maybe it was a jab at tension-relieving humor, maybe it was a defensive outburst, or maybe it was an attempt at repressing the developing attraction she was feeling. It could have been all three, or none at all. She couldn't recall. All she knew was that the concerned expression was gone, replaced once more with the hardened eyes and perpetual frown she had grown so accustomed to over the past couple of months.

"Thanks for your time. Call me up when you have the urge again." He said in a low tone, and turned towards the door. Tatsuki gritted her teeth.

Fucking…idiot…She berated herself. This wasn't even about her, and she had gone and let her feminist pride get in the way of her natural inclinations…and her friendship. For the first time since Orihime had been kidnapped by the Arrancar, Tatsuki felt hot tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. One brief glimpse of a brighter tomorrow had disappeared almost as spontaneously as it had shown up.

"Ichigo, wait!" She called after, her voice almost cracking. He didn't acknowledge her. "Stop! I'm sorry!" His hand was reaching for the door.

Once again seized by the moment, Tatsuki did what she usually did when she felt uncomfortable: she attacked. No elaborate footwork or neutralization technique; no technique at all. She sprinted a short distance, let her feet leave the floor and caught the poor young man in a full-body tackle.

Fortunately, the door swung inward to open, meaning that the tangled heap of adolescents didn't tumble out onto the street corner. Unfortunately, the door was stainless steel, and not the best cushion for Ichigo and Tatsuki's fall.

"What the hell-" Ichigo's words caught in his throat.

"Ichigo, I didn't mean it! I would never say anything to purposely hurt you…" The corners of her eyes still wet, Tatsuki went on. "I made a stupid mistake, I'm just a bad loser is all…"

Bewildered, Ichigo answered quietly.

"Um, that's all right, Tatsuki. I was just going to blow off some steam on my own. But, um…"

The realization hit Tatsuki like a sack of bricks. In the act of forcing Ichigo to the ground, she had ended up on top of him. Not just on top, but straddling him. Possibly just a reflex when one is struggling on the floor with a larger opponent. Possibly.

God DAMN it! The situation was escalating faster and farther than Tatsuki would ever have imagined or consented to. Now that the two were entwined on the floor of the dojo, her primal urges were stronger than ever. They were close enough so that she could see the individual beads of sweat clinging to Ichigo's handsome, flushed and completely confused face. She could see each bright orange hair plastered to his brow, and had to fight the urge to gently brush them away. She could feel the breath coming softly from his smooth lips. She longed to feel that breath on her neck, her own lips, and all of her body so much that she could not even admit to herself that she wanted it, so humiliatingly pleasurable the sensation appeared.

It was then that she realized that this was no spontaneous feeling. Ever since he had lost his mother Ichigo had seemed the most mature, dependable person their age. When the state of affairs with the Soul Society had escalated to the point of putting her in harm's way, it had always been Ichigo who had charged in at the last possible moment to eviscerate whatever evil had stood before her. Her best friend had for so long been the only boy she could bring herself to admire. And now that boy was a handsome young man, and for this moment in time he belonged to her.

She didn't stop to think. She couldn't, lest the logical pride that had dictated their relations for so long once again hold sway. Eyes still moist and tightly closed, she bent down through those impossibly huge couple of inches separating her from Ichigo. With a skipped heartbeat she met his lips, still slightly agape from surprise. Said astonishment only increased, with a palpable spasm traveling through the young man's body. Tatsuki couldn't blame him. The sensation of his hot lips touching her trembling ones, and the proximity of his body to hers sent a wonderfully involuntary shudder throughout the girl.

After a few seconds' guilty ecstasy she pulled away. Her face was a lovely shade of scarlet and her hands were trembling.

"I'm sorry…I just…needed to know what it would feel like…"

"Tatsuki…."

"I always find myself losing control around you…my temper, my fists, they've all fallen upon you when things get heated between us. I guess I've always kind of hoped it would lead to this. You can leave now, Ichigo; I've caused you enough trouble." She finished, barely above a whisper.

No words were uttered in response. No reaction at all for several seconds. Still directly on top of him, Tatsuki waited for the worst. What she received instead was a hand caressing her cheek. She met Ichigo's gaze to see that his luminous hazel eyes were staring right into her. In that gaze was reflected a deep sorrow, a wistful longing, and a reluctant happiness.

"I'm…I'm so grateful. For all you've done." Ichigo answered, if at all possible, more quietly than Tatsuki had presented her case. "You've been by my side for all of these years. My family life, high school, even my role as a shinigami…you never faltered in your support. You know me better than I know myself, in some ways."

Tatsuki's heart skipped a beat all over again.

"Then what…do you think of me?"

"Everything and nothing, Tatsuki. I've always respected you to the point where I could never let myself reduce you to a romantic interest. You've always been so much more to me. But knowing that the bond we share can only strengthen through hardship is making me a happier man than I have been in a long time. Knowing that a strong-spirited, kind-hearted and, honestly, beautiful young woman has taken to me in such a profound way makes everything I've done worthwhile, in a way."

Did he just call me beautiful? Tatsuki could hardly believe what she was hearing. Feelings so repressed that not even she could have called upon them more than ten minutes ago were eliciting a decisive response, and in her favor to boot. "Ichigo…I've come to like you…a lot."

"I've always liked you a lot, but in what ways is irrelevant. I've always been lucky to have you as a friend, and this only solidifies my feelings about us. Our souls are intertwined in a way that no earthly institution can compare."

"So being boyfriend and girlfriend…"

"Isn't out of the question. But I don't know that it's what is befitting of us."

Is this conversation really taking place? Tatsuki thought to herself. The person she had discussed manga, sports and brawling with since the age of 9 was now defining how he wanted to go about forming a relationship with her. The mere thought of holding him, kissing him, spending long days with him stirred feelings of longing and joy within her, and a third, unfamiliar feeling that wasn't confined to her chest and head. Is this the birds and the bees I've been told about so much? True, she was a woman grown, but a boyish lifestyle and strict self control had made her less susceptible to the daily temptations that plagued most teenagers. But in the heat of the moment, with this infuriately attractive man right up against her, inhibitions wavered.

"Tatsuki, you're a wonderful girl…a wonderful person. I don't want to tie you down and give you anything that isn't worth your time."

"Yeah?" She squeaked back, a small, embarrassed smile accompanying her response.

"I…don't know what to do…"

Oh, what the hell. It's done well by me so far. Once again Tatsuki made a leap of faith. The ecstatic burning in her loins was becoming unbearable.

"I think I do." She said, the small smile turning into an almost teasing grin. There was no way he couldn't feel the heat she was putting out. Ichigo's eyes widened and his skin grew the tiniest bit more damp. Not waiting for his response, she once again closed the gap between them, touching their lips with a deliberate softness, waiting for him to return her advances. He did. The slightest pressure from his part was all the confirmation Tatsuki needed to advance. She was vastly inexperienced in this department, but she knew full well Ichigo was as well. They had gone through many firsts together; how was sex any different?

Her hands left the floor and came to rest upon his chest, feeling the definition of his pectorals with such guilty relish as to make her blush all over again. The sweetness of his lips was all she could taste, all she wanted to. The musk of his sweat through the drenched clothes they both wore overwhelmed her in the best of ways, and she could hardly wait to be surrounded by that overpowering essence that represented all Ichigo was.

A sigh escaped Ichigo, surprising both of them. Such pleasure couldn't possibly be derived from Tatsuki, the tomboy he had known so long to be off-limits. But nonetheless he found his own hands wrapping around her slender waist, and his tongue running lightly over her lips. Sweat began pouring off of the pair, and for one of the first times it wasn't because they were trying to kill each other.

Tatsuki's hands clenched the fabric that stood between them and Ichigo's body, willing it to disappear so that she might fully explore the tantalizing ridges and valleys that made up his physique. Ichigo's own hands tightened their grip, almost imploring her to do just that. Gingerly, lovingly she began to disrobe him.

Upon realizing what she was doing, Ichigo aided Tatsuki in the act, throwing his arms back behind his head (for he was still on the floor) and allowing her to remove the dark grey tee at her own leisure. For the incredibly aroused young woman, his glistening upper body was a sight to behold, and one that only fueled the lustful fire within her. Her lips fell upon him once more, nuzzling at his neck as she ran her hands all over his exposed chest. Ichigo, always the slow learner with women, just now had the idea to slip his own hands under the back edge of Tatsuki's own top. The lean sinew of her lower back felt supple and firm under his fingertips, and neither of them could ignore the growing pressure that arose below his belt in response to the tantalizing heat of Tatsuki's womanhood.

"Here…let me…" Tatsuki trailed off as pulled off the white tank top she had been sporting through their sparring match, silently noting how she would need to dress to impress in the future if she wanted this to be a recurring situation. Ichigo was speechless upon seeing her shirtless. True, it wasn't the first time; they'd been close friends long enough so that they had each seen a healthy portion of each other on occasion, but the circumstances shed her body in a whole new light. Her raven hair, grown out over the past couple of months, cascaded down over her porcelain-white form…slender shoulders with exquisitely-muscled arms, breasts that, while not in the league of Orihime or Rangiku, were ample and firm, a waist that accentuated her hourglass form in a way that one wouldn't expect in such an athletic girl, and a core as tight and trimmed as most could be without giving a masculine appearance.

Feeling Ichigo's gaze upon her, Tatsuki blushed all over again, and began to cross her arms over her chest.

"No…" He whispered, and, with a sheepish smile, slid his hands up her back to the back of her bra. He, too, started to blush.

"What's with the color, Strawberry?" Tatsuki muttered with a nervous laugh. It was well received with hearty laughter from the other end.

"Took you all morning to think that one up, huh?" Ichigo responded, his blush gone and a genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, shut it, you-"

Click.

The hooks holding Tatsuki's bra to her body came undone at her partner's hands, and the lily-white garment fell onto his midsection.

Neither could utter a word. Tatsuki's eyes were transfixed on the brassiere that lay in a heap on Ichigo, the cool breeze that ran over her exposed breasts turning her soft, pink nipples hard quickly. Ichigo, who had never (by choice) seen a nude woman in person, felt color rushing to his face in earnest this time. He quite possibly did resemble his namesake.

It was Tatsuki who broke this silent spell, as she leant over once again, placed her hands on the sides of Ichigo's face, and whispered softly into his ear:

"I'm glad that it's you."

Vigor returned to the young man, as he wrapped his arms around her waist once more and kissed her deeply, running his tongue over her waiting lips. He could feel her shudder and only held her all the tighter.

Both had entered a state of hypersensitivity. The soft white skin of Tatsuki and the rippling muscle of Ichigo were tingling at the touch of one another, and the sweat of the spar and arousal hung in the air, a luscious musk that filled the lungs. The pungent salt of the sweat on their mouths would have made them lick their lips, if they weren't busy licking each other's. A low moan started emitting from Tatsuki, an erotic harmony to Ichigo's throaty sighs.

Ichigo could feel his member swelling with lust. He had opted to wear nylon shorts instead of jeans for the day's exercise, so he was guessing Tatsuki could, as well. She was wearing the same, albeit of a much shorter cut. They were about the same length as the boxers he was sporting, as a matter of fact…He started to think of what she had in the way of underwear, which made him so hard it almost hurt. He could feel the heat of her crotch intensifying, and it was all he could do no to take her immediately. Their tongues were intertwining by this point, their hot breath almost steaming as it escaped. Ichigo couldn't fully contain his animalistic urges and started grinding his lower body against hers.

Tatsuki broke the kiss, arched her back, and moaned at the gratification. Taking this as his cue, Ichigo continued rubbing the bulge in his pants against the growing wet spot on hers. A sensual whimper came from Tatsuki as she returned the action, her eyes squinting and sweat beading on her brow from the intense sensation.

Ichigo began making his own leaps and bounds within their little session. As intensely focused as he was on the erotic contact going on down below, the fact remained that Tatsuki's chest was directly in his face. Gingerly, he placed a kiss on it, just above her left breast. He could almost hear her heartbeat accelerate. Gaining confidence, he placed another, closer to her sweet spot, and another, until his lips were upon her hard, excited nipples. Tatsuki bit her lip and stifled a groan.

Such a shame…Ichigo thought, as he had come to find her little outburst quite pleasing to the ear. His tongue dart out, lightly running over the pink sweet spot of Tatsuki's left breast. He could almost imagine her biting her bottom lip and squinting her face as he felt her whole body lurch forward on top of him, and starting moving the tip of his tongue in slow circles.

"Mmmmph!" He could hear the fruits of his labor fighting to escape from his partner's pursed lips, and let the sides of his mouth contort into a grin around his still moving tongue. The fingers that had gripped the sides of his face were now clenched around tufts of his bright orange hair, and he could feel the grip tightening as he worked. His own hands had begun to explore the curves of Tatsuki's back, savoring the peaks of her shoulder blades and the indent that made the small of her back.

Tatsuki's own senses were on fire from Ichigo's advances, as she bit her tongue to avoid the embarrassing scream she had heard boys mockingly make since middle school. As humiliating as it was, she had found that there was at least some nugget of truth in the over-hyped ideology of teenage sexuality.

Not wanting to be left behind in the heat of passion, she lowered herself and arched her back even further, pressing her breasts into Ichigo's face and raising her ass up into the air simultaneously. She was going for a "naughty" pose, hoping that he would take the bait and go just a little bit further. As it turned out, Ichigo wasn't quite as slow a learner as she thought. His hands synchronized their paths as they moved upwards to clasp her rear, smooth in their motions where before they had been almost shaking.

"Mmmm…" Tatsuki had her moaning under control now, turning it into a throaty sigh that made the hair on Ichigo's neck stand on end. She began rocking slowly back and forth, enjoying Ichigo's newfound talent. Ichigo himself was having a ball, the knowledge that his jabs at foreplay were yielding such results. He fixed his lips to her large, pink nipple and started to suck, his tongue continuing to work all the while. The feeling of having Tatsuki's round, ample breasts mashed up against his face was at once a little degrading and infuriatingly arousing. No longer a simple bulge, Ichigo's member now stood out against the navy blue fabric of his gym shorts, impossible to hide even if the person in question isn't sitting on it.

Dear God…Thought Tatsuki. Even with her limited experience in sex, she could tell just how worked up her partner was from the pressure that was pushing against her own excited parts. Even now, with layers of drenched clothing between the two she could get a grasp on size, and it was safe to say that it wouldn't be an issue later on. She had lowered herself onto him completely, with his hands still grasping her ass, and quite vigorously at that. Feeling the exposed skin of their upper bodies connect created a heat that defied the cool autumn air that circulated through the dojo, and made what little clothing they had left on feel stifling and constricting.

Without warning she broke their contact and rolled off of him.

"Tatsuki, what-"

"Sssshhhh…" She hushed him as she went about pulling off the only thing that held back her immense arousal. Throwing her legs up into the air, she proceeded to remove the skimpy shorts that for so long she had worn with innocence and cast them aside. Ichigo's earlier inquiry on Tatsuki's style of underwear was answered, and his breath caught in his throat.

A thong? His mind raced and spun around the concept. The most boyish girl he had ever known wore lingerie on a daily basis? He couldn't take his eyes off of the little black number that clung to her curves perfectly.

"What? It's comfortable when you move around so much…" She said, almost abashed. If her face wasn't already flushed from arousal then Ichigo would have seen the color creeping up to her cheeks.

"No, it's not that, it's just…wow…" Ichigo had sat up in looking at her, and his manhood stood almost straight out from underneath his shorts. It was Tatsuki's turn to stare.

Getting on all fours, she started to crawl towards him, an act aided in its sensuality by her topless circumstances. Planting her hands on the floor to either side of him, she leaned in close, letting their foreheads touch, and gave him a feather-light kiss.

"Let me take care of you." She said, not quite a whisper but low enough not to break the intimacy of the moment. The hand on the back of her head that pulled her into a deep, passionate meeting of the lips served as her affirmation.

Trailing her fingertips down Ichigo's bare body, she let them come to a halt at the seam of his shorts. Looking into his eyes once more to make sure that it was within bounds, she clenched the fabric in her petite, inexperienced hands and tugged. His pants and boxers moved as one, shifting only a foot or two and coming to a rest mid-thigh. While Tatsuki could have easily finished the job right then and there, the throbbing erection that greeted her efforts temporarily froze her to the spot.

She had gotten a rough estimate of its large size through the bulge that had been pressed up against her previously, but the actual proportions were those which she had dared not let slip into the realm of hope. Strawberry was circumcised (of course he was circumcised, his father was a doctor, and what good boy wasn't clean cut?), with a length between eight and nine inches, easily. No Ron Jeremy, but definitely above average, with thickness to match. Being the first penis she had ever seen in real life, Tatsuki was speechless at the sight of such a lucky catch. Her gaze was fixed upon it, and, while realizing that no member was a mantle-piece, she couldn't help but admire all Ichigo turned out to have going for him.

The naked young man in question was no more vocal; he was awaiting the judgment that inevitably came with the exhibition of one's private business. Being a teenage boy, he had of course seen one or two things that his parents wouldn't have approved of (well, perhaps HIS father would have), but the perfection present in such media always invoked a state of self-consciousness within him. The actors had always been a little more tan, a little smoother talking, and, worst of all, one or two inches longer. So now he stay still, breath caught in his throat as he anticipated Tatsuki's approval or rejection.

Once again, actions spoke in the absence of words. Tatsuki's hand darted forward, giving his cock a light squeeze, almost testing the strength of his arousal. A quiver ran through Ichigo's body at the stimulation, and he threw his head back in a surprised sigh of pleasure. His partner's free hand once again fastened itself to the rim of his shorts, pulling them all the way down to his ankles, at which point he had the coherence to kick them off himself. Tatsuki's grip ventured upward, the sensation of her stroking making Ichigo's heart pound in his ears. Almost curiously, she ran her thumb over the head of his member, getting a small amount of his pre-cum on her hand in the process. Releasing her grip on his manhood (much to his disappointment), Tatsuki brought her hand up to her mouth and gingerly took a taste.

Upon tasting his fluids, her eyes lit up in a way that confounded Ichigo. Looking once again into his eyes, she gave him a devious smile before hunching over him and grasping his member heartily.

He was about to ask what she was doing before he felt a moist warmth close around his cock. Sharply exhaling at the overwhelming stimulation, he looked down to see Tatsuki's ebony-haired head bobbing slowly up and down.

Is this really happening? Ichigo thought in the midst of the pleasure receptors firing off in his head. Not fifteen minutes ago they had been trying to kick the crap out of each other, and now she was blowing him? The sloppy, unbelievably sexy sounds emanating from Tatsuki, coupled with the incomparable ecstasy he was feeling certainly suggested so.

Tatsuki herself wasn't making a bad time of it, either. Something about the idea of sucking off her best friend, the sheer, delicious wrongness of it made her mind race and her slit drip. The taste of his arousal was strong upon her tongue, and she couldn't seem to get it out of him fast enough. She could feel every pulse of his growing erection as she ran her lips and tongue over it, glancing up every once in a while to give lingering, tantalizing eye contact. For her first time giving, she was doing a bang-up job. She had even had the foresight to cover her teeth before beginning, a sentiment most girls don't experience until called out upon. Afraid of gagging, she confined her activity to the first three or four inches of Ichigo's manhood; if this happened regularly she could get all the practice she needed to go further.

It was again Ichigo's turn to make a move. Gently placing his hand on the back of her head once again, he held a loose grip while starting to thrust. Not the most natural of movements, considering he was still sitting upon the floor and had to take great pains not to go to hard or too deep for his inexperienced lover, but the message got across all the same. Tatsuki began bobbing her head in rhythm with his strokes, the compact seal of her lips moving up and down his length with maddening smoothness. Unable to ignore her own desires any longer, she let one hand venture back to the soaked black panties that, for reasons that eluded her, were still on. Taking a single finger, she started to lightly massage her clit, arching her back and attempting to moan in the process.

Ichigo, who had not been paying attention to her hands, pulled from her mouth with a worried expression on his face.

"Did I go too fast for you?" He asked, but realized the circumstances before the question was even completed. Tatsuki kept that same, devious look on her face as she stroked harder and harder upon her sweet spot, sitting back and seeming to invite Ichigo to the party. He didn't need any verbal cues. Just as she had one twice before, he went on all fours to her, suspending himself above her as their lips met and hands explored. Ichigo's hand slid over Tatsuki's, aiding in the stimulation that practically begged the removal of her final, skimpy garment. After a mere few seconds, she withdrew her hand, confident that Ichigo knew what to do. She now used one to bring Ichigo in for an intense round of tongue fencing, while the other once again closed around his cock, able to stroke up and down heartily now that her mouth had slicked it over.

The two stayed there for a good four or five minutes, which to someone in the act of sex seems like an eternity. Opting for a more comfortable position, Tatsuki rolled onto her side, allowing Ichigo to lay opposite of her as they enjoyed each other's special attention. Almost unconsciously, Tatsuki began to thrust into the touch of her partner, grinding harder and harder against it until the fabric of her thong could be felt inside of her womanhood.

"Ichigo…I need to get a little air…" She whispered, glancing down to indicate her soaked panties. Nodding silently, her partner complied. Getting up onto his knees, he faced her sprawled, waiting form as his fingers looped under the edges of what little clothing she had left on. Almost dutifully, she threw her legs up into the air as he began to tug. Much quicker than his own underwear had come off, hers seemed to glide over the milky, smooth thighs that housed the musky heat that beckoned to him so. Almost immediately following her complete disrobing, Tatsuki allowed he feet to return to the floor, spreading her legs wide in the process. She gave him a look that was not seductive, but almost imploring. She needed him now more than ever, and he knew it.

Positioning himself over her, with his elbows on either side, he gave her one last, deep kiss before penetrating her. Almost instantaneously she arched her back and screamed, unable to stifle the unbridled intensity of her first time. Ichigo himself couldn't believe the tightness and drenched heat that surrounded his member at the act. Tatsuki's hips shot forth wildly, forcing Ichigo deeper still, which in turn made her cries even more fervent. Her hands gripped his back, practically clawing him where before there had been only light embrace. The act didn't waylay Ichigo; if anything it stirred him to action. He started to thrust, slow and deep, while Tatsuki fought to get her breath and voice under control. Having been quite athletic all through her young life, she had long since lost her maidenhead. This had saved them both the inconvenience of the bleeding that came with one's first attempt at intercourse, but the force with which her pussy held him left no doubt that he was indeed her only thus far.

"Ichigo…" She gasped out, barely able to control her high-pitched sighs.

"Ssshhh…just focus on keeping up, Tatsuki…" He whispered directly into her ear, causing a shudder to pass through her body all over again. Nonetheless, she tried her best to slow her breathing and fully enjoy the ride to come. Ichigo was stretching her virgin slit almost to a point of pain, but the burn she felt was by no means unpleasant. She wouldn't have been able to ask him to stop if she had wanted him to.

His strokes were getting faster now, his grunts a little louder. The initial shock of the act had worn off and Tatsuki had regained her composure enough so that she had the sense to contribute her own thrusts to the effort, straining not to break out screaming once again. She wondered how thick the dojo walls were, and how many people would be out and about on a Sunday afternoon. And then she couldn't think clearly at all.

The burning that had been present in her loins for the past half hour or so now turned into a deep aching, a herald that she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. It was alright, though; a few minutes of actual intercourse was all she could handle at present, and the foreplay had been so damned good…

Ichigo was in a similar predicament. He felt an enormous pressure building within him, and fight as he did, it wouldn't stay contained. A good ride, though…A damned good ride…

The two released together. Ichigo grunted in a low, husky voice, as Tatsuki let out the sexiest moan Ichigo had ever heard. The feeling of hot fluid rushing inside of her excited the young woman to the point of mashing her pelvis against his, while the extreme compression of her pussy made Ichigo's eyes roll to the back of his head. As soon as it had begun, the shared orgasm was over, and the two fell, once again on top of each other, onto the floor.

No words were spoken for a good ten minutes. Ichigo and Tatsuki contented themselves with laying beside one another, cooling off in the brisk autumn air as their gazes were fixed upon one another. Tatsuki's slate gray eyes looked deep into Ichigo's glimmering hazel ones, and just like before their little session, began to water.

"Tatsuki…" Ichigo began quietly.

"No, no, don't talk quite yet…I'm just enjoying the moment." She said, a small yet sincere smile working its way across her surprisingly delicate features as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Nothing needed said. She had finally gotten through to him, and him to her as well. She had him back, and then some. Nobody needed to shed tears anymore, and the very thought made Tatsuki's eyes overflow with joy. She didn't need his body every day any more than he needed hers. This act had taken their friendship to depths that she hadn't even imagined possible before the events of the afternoon, and both were ready to face whatever the future held for them.

"You know…I've always thought you were quite handsome, even though I never would have admitted it." Tatsuki finally said, breaking the silence. He seemed quite amused.

"Yes…I always thought that you wouldn't have any trouble getting a girl…or getting with a girl."

"You know that's not my top priority."

"Yeah, I guess I have. I guess I just always assumed you didn't need me as anything more than a friend…and subconsciously, that you didn't want me as anything more." She finished. Ichigo had no response for her this time.

"But I know now that it's not a girlfriend that you needed…It was just for somebody to show you that they cared. And if I care about you more than a friend typically would, so be it."

"So, you don't want to-"

"Go out with you? Of course I do…but we're both free spirits, Ichigo. I can't help feeling attracted to you, and there's no going back on what happened here; I don't want to, anyway. If anything, I want it to happen again and again." She said, not even the slightest tint creeping to her face.

"What are you getting at, Tatsuki?" Ichigo ventured forth, almost cautiously.

"Maybe…I'm not the only one for you. You have history with so many people, and whether you realize or not some of them have had feelings for you for quite some time…You need to make amends with them, as well."

"But what about-"

"I'll be here whenever you need me, Ichigo. There are a few people you need to see, one of them a very close friend of ours. But that can what until later. Why don't you put some clothes on and treat a girl after you've just ravished her?" She said, with a characteristic wink and a playful punch to the arm.

Ichigo felt a warm feeling spread through his chest. With a smile, he offered a hand to her.

"Anything for the first angel in my harem."