Eyeshield 21 Fan Fiction ❯ Problem: Lap Syndrome ❯ Chapter 1

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

I do not own Eyeshield 21 or its characters. They belong to the author. Enjoy!

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Typing on his computer, Hiruma was completely engrossed in the figures and the information pouring
before his tired gaze. The sound of wrapping tape being unrolled caught his attention. Looking down, he
noticed the kuso mane getting ready to start taping his knee up.
"What do you think you're doing fucking manager? Hurry and go look after the brats."
"I'm not going. Please hold your knee still."

He looks down at her, blowing a bubble. He didn't say anything to her as she continued on her
selfmade quest. But just as she makes another wrap around his knee, he begins to bounce his foot up
and down. Making it hard for her to wrap his knee properly.
"Hey.... What the ­ Sto Wait a sec."*

She grasps onto his calf with surprising strength and just like that he stops ­ allowing her to
keep on wrapping his knee. Even as she fought with him to wrap his knee, he couldn't get his mind
around how close her face was to his lap and the possibility of other things happening with that position
of hers. Unfortunately, that didn't help with the fact that one certain part of his lap was just about to
start saluting her, if he wasn't careful. Just for good measure, and to hide his little demon, he bounced
his foot a little more. It couldn't be helped. Demon he may be, but he was still a teenager with the
hormones to prove it.
Mamori, growling at him completely focused her attention to his errant leg instead of himself.
Hiruma closed his eyes, just relaxing himself and allowed her the need stillness in order to wrap his knee.
He closed his laptop and leaned back against the rock that would now support him. His brows furrowed
as his nerves brought the sensation of a soft, gentle touch upon his body to his beleaguered mind. What
he didn't expect was that a gentle hand would start caressing his thigh, coming closer and closer to his
little demon. This time he couldn't stop the full blown salute to the girl who was currently beginning to
stroke him.
As soon as he realized what and who was doing this to him, he sat up and stared down at his
kuso mane with surprise written in his face and eyes. She smiled up at him and continued her stroking,
causing him to gasp and attempt to pull away. But, it just felt too good. Giving up with his internal battle,
he leaned his head back and allowed her continual caress.
Just as he was beginning to really enjoy the sensations coursing through his body, she stopped.
A whimper tumbled out of his mouth and he heard a soft chuckle just before the sound of a zipper being
pulled down rang through the air, it sounded almost like the shotguns he so enjoyed to shoot off. He
opened his eyes and had just looked down when she gripped him in her small, slightly calloused hand.
Up and down, up and down. His eyes followed the path her hand took over him. He watched in a daze
wondering when she had pulled him out of his boxers.
She smiled up at him again, this time there was a hint of mischief sparkling in her blue eyes. His
eyebrow rose in question to the challenge that she seemed to put forth, her breath close enough to hit
his straining erection causing chills to run up and down his spine. A sound was made a little ways off and
he glanced over, nothing was there and he turned back to the woman kneeling before him in the sand,
just as she took him into her mouth.

---

Hiruma jumped, and then scowled because he had. A laugh vibrated around him causing him to
thrust slightly and a moan to breeze its way out of him. The heat of her mouth combined with the slight
sucking sensation felt like a combination of the purity of heaven and the fury of hell. Damn it, when had
he ever been so poetic. He blamed her for that thought.
Gently wrapping his hand in her silky soft hair, he leaned his head back and watched the stars ­
at least he wanted to until she scraped her teeth over him, his attention successfully restored where ­ in
her mind at least ­ it should be. The pleasure coursing through him was building, higher and higher and
he knew that if she didn't release him now, she was going to get a mouthful and then some. Literally.
He tugged sharply at her hair, his hips thrusting in a jerky fashion into her mouth; but she kept
on ­ it didn't seem to matter to her and that surprised him. But then, he never thought that she would
be doing this willingly, she never seemed the type. With a low groan, he came and still she didn't mind.
But, now that she had done this ­ he wasn't just about to let her go back and just ignore what
this act had probably done to her as well. It was like clockwork she stood, ready to go back to where
the others were. But he wasn't going to let her. Grasping her arm, he turned her back towards him and
kissed her hard.
She stiffened for a moment, and then it passed. She relaxed into his arms and he slipped his
tongue into her mouth. Responding with a moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him
closer. His hands moved from her arms and down her back, pulling her closer and yet it didn't seem like
it was enough.
He wanted to know the softer parts of her body. It was one thing to look, and yes he did look;
but it was quite another to be able to test that softness for himself. And he was always ready to appease
his curiosity. He slipped underneath her shirt and caressed the skin of her back and sides. Soft, softer
than he expected. Moving his hands further up, he came in contact with her bra, from the feel of it a
lacy little thing that did nothing to stop him from feeling the way her nipple budded against his palm. He
smirked to himself.
Moving her slightly, he started to strip off her top, to see what her bra looked like. `Would it be
white? Or maybe pink. What color would she wear?' he thought to himself. Once her shirt was off, he
broke the kiss to look down and had to stifle a yaha. It wouldn't do if she decided to run away now, so
he just stood there staring down at her bra, which was the most unlikely of colors. Red and black. It
looked nice on her, but he figured that it would look better on the ground. And he moved to make it so.
Of course he forgot that his usually so proper manager still had her hands around him. But the
halfway removal of his shirt reminded him that he too had too many clothes on. Pulling away, he
pointed at what was left of her clothing and glared at it, causing her to laugh and in her typical style
complied with his order as he divested himself of his clothing. He peeked over when she bent to divest
herself of her pants, her panties matched. Somehow, he figured that they would. Nice, but he kept with
his initial thoughts ­ they would look better on the ground.
Turning back to ridding himself of his own clothing, he didn't notice the heated look from the
girl next to him as more toned muscle was revealed to her hungry gaze. Completely naked, he turned
towards her and had to stifle a gasp. She glowed. Okay, granted that was romantic ­ which he was
anything but ­ but the way the moonlight hit her at that moment, well, she glowed. He wasn't sure what
he would call her, her looking so... "Beautiful". She blushed and that seemed to get his curiosity going
again, just to see how far and how deep he could get that blush to go.

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Stepping forward towards her, he placed his hand on her side and watched as he slid it up to her
breasts. Cupping her breast, he moved his other hand to her ass, squeezing firmly making her gasp as
she ran her hands over his chest. The friction caused by the each caress and stroke created a hotter fire
and a need for more.
Taking his time, he trailed a path down her neck and onto her shoulder where he lightly bit her
just hard enough to leave a mark. She tasted sweet. He moved down and pulled her nipple into his
mouth; she bowed into his mouth and cried into the night. A niggling in the back of his mind said that
things were not what they should be, but he ignored it and slowly brought his hand to the place
between her thighs.
She was softer here, and yet heat poured out of her and he realized she was wet. Oh, so wet. He
wanted to feel that a little more and gently pushed two of his fingers inside of her. Her breath was
coming in pants now, her hips slowly thrusting against the movement of his fingers. He felt the
movement of her muscles and had an idea of what was going to happen, when she suddenly stiffened ­
practically losing her balance ­ and came, screaming her completion.
He knelt before her, wanting and needing to feel one more thing. Grasping her arms he pulled
her down and onto his lap, the position putting him outside of her entrance. He looked up into her eyes.
"Your choice."
She nodded and moved slightly. Thinking she was going to get off of him, he let her go. She
surprised him. Instead of going away, like he thought she would, she positioned herself over him and sat
down. The feeling of being encased by her volcanic heat was... there were no words to describe it. He
waited as patiently as he could before moving, feeling the ripples of her muscles and the heat that
seemed to get hotter and the wetness increasing to a point where he could hear her dripping onto the
sand. And then she relaxed and he began to move.
In and out, in and out, in various directions and depths. He quickly caught onto the things that
would make her scream out his name. Moving and moving together in sync, more so than they would be
on the field. Thrusts here and then move to doggy style, thrusts there and move to missionary and on
and on and on. He took this as seriously as he took playing football, and for a moment the same look of
intensity came over his face. She shuddered and instead of fearing felt herself get wetter and she began
to move with more intensity, moaning and crying out her pleasure.
Finally they ended where she was riding him while he sat and helped move her hips. The edge
that both felt was coming closer and closer. Then it was upon them and he grabbed his gun in one hand
crying out "YAHA!" as she screamed his name in pleasure, he shot off several rounds. The blasts
carrying for miles telling of how the demon had pleasured and been pleasured by the upright football
manager. With that, they both fell into a rest. But before he could properly fall asleep, he was promptly
awoken by a call that he cursed.
"Hirumakun, you should have eaten with us if you are hungry. We would all appreciate it if you didn't
go hunting in the middle of the night." The voice belonged to the very woman he had enjoyed. Looking
down at himself, he found that he was still clothed and said the one thing that seemed to sum
everything up.
"Fuck."

*Italics are taken from the scanlation scene of Eyeshield 21; Volume 09; Chapter 079; page 184 ­ 185.

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