Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Shameless ❯ Dim Sum ( One-Shot )

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

Akane sighed heavily and rested her back against the fence; all day she'd been searching for that idiot, running all over the school, the park, the Nekohanten, Ucchan's - hell, she'd even checked the canal, twice! And still, no Ranma. He wasn't even under any of the bridges, or on the roof of the Tendou estate.

“Ranma! Where are you!?” Akane shouted, turning and kicking the fence with less fire than her voice implied. Ranma had run out of the backyard earlier that day, desperately trying to escape the clutches of Shanpu, Kodachi, Ukyou and some new girl from Osaka, with more mouth than brains, who called herself “Man Hunter Tsu.” Akane had chased after him, rather than deal with the anger of the other “fiancÃ©es,” but hadn't been able to catch up with him. She'd managed to lose the Tsu girl's trail, and Ranma's other fiancÃ©es had set off to find him on their own.

Briefly, Akane selfishly hoped they hadn't had any luck.

“But… what if he's hurt or something?” Akane whispered; but that couldn't be true. Her young mind shied from visions of blood, of mutilated flesh and bone; Ranma was a strong, fierce warrior. He had won countless battles, recovered from countless wounds, and had cheated death countless times - countless! Hell, Ranma had killed a god! He was nigh indestructible.

However, despite being fairly secure in the knowledge that Ranma was, most likely, not lying in a ditch somewhere beaten to something resembling raw hamburger, Akane decided to head for Doctor Tofuu's. Maybe if he was hurt badly enough in a fight, he had headed there? Then again, maybe she should return to the house; there was no one else home, to take care of him if he'd stumbled back there hurt, instead of Dr. Tofuu's. Nabiki was at University, Kasumi was visiting a friend, and her father and Mr. Saotome were at a retreat with Auntie Nodoka in Kyoto. No one would be there for him.

As she was warring with herself, a noise broke through the quiet of the empty street. The sound had resembled a groan of pain, but Akane wasn't sure. She waited, impatiently, her foot poised over the concrete, ears straining. Something inside her told her that Ranma had made that noise, or someone Ranma had knocked unconscious, maybe someone who could have information on his whereabouts.

She listened harder.

“Ah, damn it…!” That was definitely Ranma's voice. Someone rode by noisily on a bicycle, so Akane didn't hear anything after that, but she didn't need to. A serious martial artist is trained to know where their enemy is by sight, or by sound, and Akane was at least, if not the most skilled of the Nerima Wrecking Crew, a serious martial artist.

Her ears pulled her towards a cluster of bushes several yards from her person, in a corner park that led off into the woods. She approached the shrubbery almost silently, praying that Ranma didn't hear her footfalls and run off. She'd catch him and kill him if he did!

As she leaned over the waist-high foliage, her shadow fell across a familiar hand in the grass, peeking out from behind a tree. Before she could do anything, the hand darted behind the trunk, and she heard a rustling that sounded a lot like someone scrambling for their lives into the branches of said tree.

“Hey! Waitasec!” Akane darted through the bushes, and shot up after him.

…

Ranma yelped as Akane grabbed a hold of his pants' leg, catching him in mid-leap. He didn't have time to be impressed with her speed as he was thrown off-balance, and straight into the ground five feet below, becoming very intimate with the tree's roots. Akane becoming very intimate with his back.

“Ow.” Ranma remarked, turning his head to the side and blinking the dirt out of his eyes. Akane mumbled something incoherent and vaguely angry, and sat up, her taught thighs settling on either side of his hips as she straddled his back.

Ranma bit back a groan, and prayed she wasn't so in tune with him that she'd notice his distress. She could be, however; after all, she'd managed to find him, didn't she? And he'd hidden himself in a spot she'd never think to look for Ranma Saotome: next to a bookstore.

“Get off.” Ranma finally managed, when his fiancÃ©e showed no signs of moving.

“I'm not getting off you until you tell me why you're running away.” Akane responded sternly, tightening her grip on his hips, pressing her groin into his rear and sending little shock waves of sensation up either side of his body to ricochet off his ears and straight back to his crotch.

The sensation almost, almost hurt.

“I ain't runnin', and it's none of your damn business, tomboy!” Ranma croaked out, trying desperately to focus on anything, anything, but the girl atop his back, and at the same time get her the hell away from him.

At least he wasn't facing her, because then Akane would see—

The situation was bad, all bad. Ranma hadn't figured that there was only so long before beating his head against a wall stopped being more painful than the ache between his legs. Hadn't understood that, despite his training, he only had so long before he lost control. But no, that wasn't right, was it? He could handle this; something in his gut said he was being ridiculous, but every time the voice tried to scrabble up to his brain, something else soothed the voice's logical insistence into submission.

Still, Ranma was a stubborn man. He settled into a breathing exercise that calmed his pounding blood enough to where he didn't feel like the Sea of Japan was rushing around his head.

“You are too running. Now what's wrong? Normally you would have, you know, let me mallet you or something by now.” Curse Akane's new-found insight! When had she found time in the last two years, throughout all the kidnappings, battles, wedding attempt(s) and near-death experiences to gain ground on a six year old in maturity? Why now, of all times, did she decide to be mature and ignore his childish insults, seeing them for what they were?

Stupid tomboy!

Ranma almost whimpered in helplessness, but he bit that sound back in favor of growling in frustration - a growl was far manlier, after all. Suddenly, Ranma was full of the resentment of the righteous and persecuted; it wasn't like the situation was entirely his fault, but despite how mature she appeared at the moment, Ranma doubted Akane would understand his… problem. More likely, Akane would think he was some pervert, probably mallet him, or punch him, or do any number of things sure to land him at Dr. Tofuu's.

Technically, Akane claimed that she already did think he was a pervert. And as well, Akane suffered from Violent FiancÃ©e Syndrome (VFS); she didn't need any extra wood on the fire.

And this was definitely wood, Ranma thought with a grimace.

“C'mon, the sooner you tell me, the sooner this big tomboy gorilla will get off your back.” Ranma's eyes bugged out of his skull as her hands pressed against his shoulders and she clenched her fingers into his flesh. He desperately beat down the urges that swelled around her hands and raced through his body, but Ranma was losing the battle.

If only, if only he'd run off the minute he'd seen Ukyou heading towards him. He should have just run. Any one of his fiancÃ©es could mean trouble, at any time. Just because she had food, he had stayed where he was; stupid, stupid, stupid glutton! Food! Of all the things to ignore his self-preservation instinct for.

But Ukyou had been okay. She was still “Ucchan,” his very male childhood friend. She was still “one of the guys.” No, Ukyou was okay. He could handle Ukyou's advances. And then Shanpu had shown up, wearing an outfit that would have been small for a ten-year-old. She was all soft curves and perky personality as she bounced up to him and started shoveling dim sum into his mouth.

She was followed closely by Kodachi in a leotard doing a poor impression of clothing, and lastly that bloody Man Hunter Tsu had shown up. Ranma had never met the new girl before, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she was cute and… flamboyant. What mattered was that Ranma's dam was suddenly cracking. What mattered was that the sun had decided to take up residence in Ranma Saotome's boxer shorts. What mattered was that Akane had chosen that moment to run into what could be considered a fray or a potential for a semi-unwilling - on Ranma's end - orgy porgy.

Akane could have been in full winter gear, and Ranma knew he would have reacted the same way. Akane's name could have been mentioned, and that was all he would have needed to push him over the edge into a red abyss of erotic fatigue.

Plainly, Ranma Saotome was horny. And he could understand why; he'd been horny before. But some nagging thing at the back of his mind told him something was wrong here. There was no way that he could get rid of his erection; “rubbing one out” hadn't helped, and neither had braining himself several times with a tree limb. And the longer his hard-on was around, the worse the throbbing in his groin got. At this point, the pulsating sensation of Ranma's arousal was becoming downright painful.

On top of the pain, the incessant ache in his stomach was trying to tell his brain something important. Unfortunately, Ranma's brain wasn't listening, and Ranma couldn't decipher what his instincts were trying to tell him without the participation of said brain.

Akane still hadn't moved, he noted with increasing worry. “Look, Akane,” Ranma started, falling back into the familiar routine of talking to her like she was a complete imbecile, - maybe he still had the chance to make her angry enough to storm off in a huff so he could continue trying to “work out” some of his frustration, “you wouldn't understand.” He left the implied “because you're just a girl” hanging in the air between them, hoping that she'd pick up on the slight like she always seemed to, hoping that she'd take everything he'd said the wrong way, and mallet him to Okayama.

Chaos ran Ranma Saotome's life, most assuredly; however, the amount of control Murphy's Law actually had over his existence was truly astounding at times.

“Look, dummy, I'm your friend, and I just want to help you, okay? Something's obviously bothering you!” Ranma felt Akane's weight shift as she leaned forward, the rough material of her jeans rubbing against his spine and hips. Whoever invented tight jeans, Ranma decided, needed to be shot or canonized.

“You can't help me!” He lied emphatically. Ranma could have rolled her off his back and taken off by now, but he a) didn't want to hurt her, and b) didn't want to her to see the Economy-sized tent in his pants. He had a strange feeling she might not be too keen on the sight.

“Sure I could! Just let me try, please? I just want to help! Please; open up to me a little.”

Strange, that was what his erection wanted her to do.

“I can't!” Ranma choked around the fist-sized lump in his throat. Akane was his friend, but there were some things you didn't share with friends, especially friends that could and probably would pulp your testicles like rotten fruit should they finally notice your raging hard-on.

As usual, his brain squirmed away from the reality of their engagement, and what that meant in terms of potential future intimacy between them, and he decided not to acknowledge that little bit of info.

“Can't what? Can't open up? C'mon, just talk to me, please? Please? Don't make me beg! That's ridiculous.” Akane's voice took on that adorable little huffy tone she used when she found something to be particularly absurd, and Ranma felt another stirring in his boxers.

Dim sum. Why was he thinking about dim sum?

“No, trust me, it ain't ridiculous. Now get off me, and go away.” His gruff response was quite the pathetic attempt really. And, of course, his grumbling didn't work.

Actually, his sorry excuse for a comeback only exacerbated the situation.

Akane decided that Ranma needed to be facing her so she could badger him properly. Ranma's groin liked this idea, and so did the rest of him, save for his survival instincts. They hated this idea, but were powerless as Ranma's body was currently reduced to something resembling softened butter in his bizarrely massive state of arousal. So, as Akane rolled him over, Ranma did a very good impression of a rag doll; a panicked rag doll, with a factory mistake between his legs.

Dim sum?

“Now then, let—” Akane's voice cut off as she settled herself down on his stomach. No doubt the source of her surprise was presently nudging her rear end, and no doubt the source of her surprise was going to make her go from calm and collected to raging and violent in about five seconds.

Wrong again; the gods were on a roll with him today.

“Oh my.” She was turning around - why oh why, Ranma wondered pathetically, was she turning around!?

…

Akane stared at the— well, the— She couldn't bring her mind to even say the word.

“You're… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes bigger than his—

“I'm what!?” Ranma shouted, - or rather, squeaked - struggling underneath her.

On a strange impulse, Akane pinned his wrists on either side of his body with her own hands, arms akimbo as she strained to keep him still. The action had the decided effect of putting their faces a few inches apart, and Akane found that she had surprised herself almost as much as she surprised him.

“What are you doing!?” Ranma half-screamed, thrashing around without much real fervency, probably trying not to hurt her. Though, he still seemed desperate to get away from her - Akane tried, very hard, not to take his protests the wrong way.

Then again, she wasn't even sure what he was protesting, what she was upset about, what was going on, or what she was doing.

Akane was still a little shocked that she had even been sitting on him in the first place. She supposed that if you saw someone naked “accidentally” enough, you'd lose some modesty. A lot of modesty, rather.

Ranma was still staring at her, panicked, his face red with strain, and the muscles in his neck tight with effort to do whatever it was he was trying to do - or not do, her mind squeaked. Akane stared right back at him, panting slightly. She wasn't even really pinning him anymore so much as she was holding his wrists while he just lay there, limp… well, most of him was limp.

Looking into his eyes, her own still wide as saucers, Akane noticed something odd. Ranma's pupils looked as though they were swimming with violet, like there was a little fish in his eye, swirling around and around, almost hypnotically.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” she started, blinking rapidly into Ranma's face, “Ra— that is— I mean—”

“Shut up!” Ranma shouted angrily, looking as if those weren't the words he'd wanted to say, but those two were the only ones he had. Akane blinked a few times, and tightened her grip on his wrists absently. Ranma was so sweaty, and her hands kept slipping a little, moving down his arms so that she had to slide her palms back up to rest right against his wrists. Akane realized suddenly that she was effectively massaging his forearms, and that the action was making Ranma look angrier so she did the logical thing for once that day and pulled her hands away.

“Sorry, I mean— I'm sorry that—” Akane couldn't help herself anymore. The absurdity of the situation, of her and Ranma's lives in general, finally caught up with her surprised brain and Akane started laughing, really hard. Ranma glared at her and turned his head to the side, folding his arms awkwardly over his chest - being that her knees were in the way, their position made it difficult for him to adopt a proper put-upon pose, and this only made her laugh harder.

Her mirth died down after a minute or two, but there were tears in her eyes that she had to wipe away, and her face hurt. “Nothing ever goes right for us, does it?” Akane said softly, grasping his face in her hands. Unsure, but certain of at least one thing, that she was sick and tired of everything, Akane leaned down and she kissed him, hard, on the mouth.

…

Akane's lips connected and Ranma's body reacted instantly: he wrapped an arm around her waist, cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, and rolled her over. Akane made a surprised sound, but he ignored her squeak and kept kissing her as roughly as he dared because she'd kissed him first out of the blue and that was so hot and she wasn't kicking him or hitting him or fighting him or anything and she was so perfect and beautiful and wonderful and he just wanted to make out with her all day—

Dim sum.

The words hit Ranma like a sack of bricks. Hot bricks.

Pulling away from Akane like she was a wet cat, Ranma rubbed desperately at his eyes and shouted incoherently. His eyes were burning with a heat that was spreading out from its point of origin in his groin, and quickly to the rest of him. Scooting away from his fiancÃ©e, Ranma eventually ended up pressed roughly against the tree at his back. Still shouting, Ranma ground the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw spots, and dug his back into the hard bark of the maple.

“Ran— what is it?” Akane, alarmed and flustered, was grabbing at his hands, trying to look at his eyes.

“Get away!” Ranma snarled, slapping at her questing hands.

“Let me help!” Akane shouted desperately, grabbing hold of his sweating wrists.

“Get Dr. Tofuu! The dim sum! Shanpu tricked me!”

“Ranma—” Before he could hear Akane utter anything else, the rest of Ranma's control took a vacation to La-La Land. He erupted from the ground, springing on her and grasping her by the shoulders.

“What are you— eep!” He could see everything that was happening but stopping it was impossible. Within himself, Ranma struggled and thrashed against the magic that held him, cursing Shanpu, cursing himself for not realizing what the Amazon had done to him earlier. Trained martial artists, hell, even average people didn't just randomly lose control of their faculties, not without help. Shanpu had dispensed with the last letter of that word.

“Hell.” Fucking hellcat bitch. The words ran around in Ranma's head like a swarm of angry ants, and as his hands twitched away at the buttons on his fiancÃ©e's blouse, his addled brain tried to figure out whom the ants were angry at.

“Hey, you pervert! Stop it!” Akane's hands were everywhere, trying to push him away. Dimly, Ranma felt her knees in his chest, and then he was against the tree again, except this time the bark hit him in the back like a truck.

“Oof.”

“You— what the hell is wrong with you!?” Akane was shouting at him? But why would she do that?

Dim sum was delicious!

Who yelled?

Breasts!

Everything inside Ranma that embodied training and rigor and strength surged forward and wrenched his consciousness to the forefront.

What the hell was he thinking?

He pressed his heated body back against the rough bark of the tree and gasped, clenching his fists into the grass. Akane was breathing heavily, looking ready to clobber him. Her short hair was messy, and her blouse was all askew. There was a blush on the exposed skin of her chest, and he saw the slight curve of the top of one of her breasts. His eyes seemed to lock onto that little half-moon of shadow and light and creamy skin, and Ranma shuddered, but his control held fast, because Ranma was a fighter.

“What the hell?” Akane repeated, trying to re-button her blouse with shaking hands. “Why—”

“Airen!? Where you hide? Shanpu find you!” Ranma did not need this right now - he never needed what his life threw at him, really. Akane stumbled to her feet, and then crouched, worriedly looking at him. He pleaded silently with her, afraid that if he spoke the only thing that was going to come out of his mouth was something akin to a groan.

…

Akane made another decision, the potential wisdom of which was left unconsidered at the moment. Running forward, she grabbed Ranma's hand and dragged him off into the woods, Shanpu's catcalls trailing behind them. “Where…” Ranma breathed raggedly, not finishing his sentence.

“Back to the house,” she ground out, still embarrassed by his… harassment of her, “if you're… if there's something wrong with you, I'm not letting Shanpu take advantage of it.” Blushing furiously, Akane led Ranma in a loop-de-loop around the woods to lose Shanpu's trail, - if the Amazon had managed to form one - and then took a shortcut through a neighbor's backyard.

When they'd hopped together over the wall around the Tendou estate, Akane glanced back at Ranma to see he had seemed to come to grips with himself for the moment; at least, he looked more coherent. His hand had gotten extremely warm under hers, and she had to grip the rough appendage extra hard to keep Ranma from slipping away, sweaty as he was. Maybe all the running and sweating had metabolized whatever Shanpu had done to him out of his system? Maybe he had gotten under control.

Then she glanced down at his pants - well, most of him under control, she amended nervously.

“C'mon, let's put you in a… cold shower…” Akane trailed off as she led him through the empty house and toward the bathroom. Ranma had opened his shirt at some point and was fanning his skin with the edges of the silk garment.

Glancing back fully at him, one hand on the fusuma to the outer bath, Akane's eyes fastened on the smooth expanse of muscled chest exposed to her. Though she had seen his bare chest thousands of times, covered in blood or sweat or dirt or whatever, she had never seen that skin in this… context. A vaguely sexual context. A masculine context.

Collecting herself, Akane brought Ranma into the bathroom. She was determined, above all else, to help him. Regardless of what was wrong, she was going to help him, because she'd told him she would. She just wouldn't to think about how she could help him at the moment, Akane decided, because if she did her face would explode from the rapid capillary expansion.

Letting his hand go long enough to get the shower started, Akane turned to spray him with the cool water and… nothing happened. Ranma got wet, all right, and stayed male, one-hundred percent. The water seemed to steam off of him. Gasping, Akane reached out and touched his face - the water was warming as soon as the liquid hit his skin! The conditions were like the Full Body Cat's Tongue, but backwards.

Ranma was moaning out loud, eyes rolling back in his head, and Akane “eeped” when she realized the shower was pointed right at his crotch as she felt his face. “Ranma, you pervert…” Akane muttered, blushing as she turned off the shower.

Okay, plan A: total failure.

So what was plan B?

Akane was just thinking of one when the little fish in Ranma's eyes seemed to swell. She barely had time to shout when he pounced on her, one leg snaking in between hers as the two of them slid across the slick floor. He'd been so docile the last few minutes, that she had to take a moment to process that he'd even moved.

Now that she had, Akane was pissed. “Get off me!” She shouted, as close to his ear as possible. Ranma flinched and stiffened, holding his weight on his hands, and as she felt him pulling away and started to sigh with relief. And then Ranma's sweat and the wet floor seemed to finally realize how greatly things would be improved if Ranma slipped, and he… slipped.

“Ack!” Akane made a strangled sound when Ranma's… problem pressed against her stomach. He murmured something against her neck and rubbed mindlessly against her, mouthing the side of her face and whispering her name into her hair. Akane's tummy started jump roping with her intestines as she warred between kneeing him in the crotch and wrapping her arms around his neck to keep his mouth just there…

…

Ranma wasn't sure what was going on. The grappler in him, the fighter, had started to fade into the background as he and Akane ran; with each blow from the spice Shanpu had put in the dim sum, his control ebbed away. Now Ranma the Fighter was sitting comfortably in a chair eating pork buns and had forgotten all about what he was supposed to be doing.

Every part of Akane that Ranma had ever fantasized about was pressed against him as they lay on the wet floor. He'd tried to move away, really, but some invisible thread had been pulled taut and he snapped back against her. Now Ranma felt like her crotch was magnetic and his dick was a brick of iron in his pants. “Akane, Akane…” He murmured, but what was supposed to come out was something totally different. Something like, “OH SHIT.”

Breathing in the scent of her hair, he tried to focus on the martial artist within him - wasn't that lazy bastard supposed to be fighting something?

Akane was shifting under him, distracting him. The space where his leg was pressed against her was getting warm. Ranma was so uncomfortably warm himself; he knew how she felt. Shucking his shirt, he set about helping Akane with the heat - what were friends for? Ranma grabbed her blouse, wet from his own sweat- and water-soaked chest, and tugged until the fabric ripped with a feminine squeal.

Wait, fabric didn't squeal…

A fist rocketed into his face and sent him sprawling against the wall. “You… you… PERVERT!” Akane shrieked. She approached him, chest heaving… moist skin, flushed a rosy pink to match the lacy bra she'd been wearing today. Every part of Ranma that was good at registering danger had taken a cruise with his control, and whilst they were sipping Mai Tais, Ranma was grinning stupidly as Akane's breasts seemed to approach him, swaying enticingly.

“Come on, you're going upstairs.” Akane sounded angry; he didn't like it when she was angry at him. He hoped she wasn't angry at him. He liked her angry, though. Sometimes, he liked to make her angry, just to see her face flush and her eyes get all bright and pretty and watch her chest heave…

Where were they going, again?

“Ummnn…” Ranma said intelligently, hoping that Akane understood his question.

“I'm going to lock you in my room, `cause it at least has a lock, and then you are going to stay there, and I am going to guard the damn window.” Oh good, Akane spoke Blithering Idiot.

Ranma's higher brain functions fully derailed when she dragged him into her room by the arm and flopped him onto the bed. Forgetting basically everything she just said, he naturally assumed that she was planning something very different as she locked the door.

…

“Okay, I'm going tooowhat happened to your pants!?” Akane put her hands on either side of her head in dismay at the sight of a naked Ranma.

This was not a way to start the day.

Or maybe it was.

Akane stared. She hadn't seen Ranma naked and male since the first day they'd met, and even then she'd been too terrified and angry to really look. The massive, rigid organ between his legs twitched, like his erection was dancing, and Akane clamped her hand over her eyes. “O…kay, you're… um… naked, I'm going to kill you, and then go outside.” She wandered around the room, trying to find her shinai and put thought to deed.

“Mmnooo…” Ranma said drunkenly. A hand grasped her pants' pocket and tugged her back to the bed. Akane, not for the first time that afternoon, let out a feminine squawk as she was dragged against a very hard, very masculine body. Ranma rolled so that she was on her stomach under him, snaking a leg over the back of her knees.

Akane struggled as he placed open-mouthed kisses on her neck and shoulders and suddenly realized, that, without a doubt, Ranma was stronger and more skilled than her. She couldn't get free. Even in his haze, Ranma had pinioned her expertly. One of her wrists was pinned by his hand next to her head, and the other arm was held next to her body by her bicep. His grip was firm but gentle, so as to not make her uncomfortable, but his body was so hot she started sweating immediately.

Struggling only earned her a feral rumble from the man above her - oh, yes, Akane decided, he had certainly become a man at some point.

Reminding herself that he was obviously not in his right mind, Akane tried to formulate another plan. And then his mouth found this... spot behind her ear, and the touch felt so good that she let out a little gasp. Ranma moaned back in response and rubbed himself against her denim-clad rear end. That, too, felt weirdly good and she panted, suddenly forgetting what she was supposed to be not doing as Ranma's hands released their hold on her to unsnap her bra. Akane's crotch told her this was an excellent plan, because a lack of bra gave his hands access to—

“Oh no you don't!” Akane shouted, bringing both elbows back into his sides sharply. She rolled with her attack, putting him under her as she tried to re-fasten her bra. Ranma giggled, - yes, she decided, he'd giggled - and his hot hands pressed flat against her stomach.

“Mmm… `kane… smell like… syr'p…” Akane flushed - he was talking about her shampoo, she realized as he buried his nose in her hair and sniffed, not any wet, hot, sticky parts of her.

As Ranma wriggled around and nibbled the flesh between her shoulder blades and anything else he could reach, Akane decided that their new position probably wasn't the best choice. She tried to sit up, but he cupped her breasts and she gasped in surprise and pleasure as the sensation of his rough hands sent little sparks across her torso.

This was wrong, she knew, taking pleasure from Ranma's actions when her fiancÃ© was not in his right mind. Akane knew she needed to pull away, but what he was doing with the rough pads of his fingers felt so good, and she loved him so much and had dreamed about this over and over.

But not like this.

Grunting with effort, Akane shot out of his arms like a rocket and headed for the door, losing her bra in the process. She heard Ranma spring off the bed after her, and whirled around, fumbling with the door lock. Too slow, she was always—

“Too slow, `kane…” Ranma murmured, snaking his hands around her wrists and pinning them to the door above to her head; the little fish in his eye had swelled so huge that his pupils were practically violet through and through.

His body suddenly curled with a staccato motion, and he shivered all over. “D'no if I c'n stop.” His voice changed, getting deeper and more hoarse as he pressed his lower body against hers with a gasp, and she was so conscious of his nakedness the knowledge made her dizzy.

…

Ranma wanted to stop; he really, really did. Someday, he wanted to do this with her, but not like this, not with him pinning her against a door.

Okay, maybe sometime he wanted to try that.

But the poison Shanpu had put in that dim sum was more powerful than even his fighter's spirit, and though he managed to break free enough to keep himself from hurting her, for the most part his body was riding the waves of uncontrollable desire like an unconscious surfer. And now, pressed against her naked chest, their hot, sweaty torsos rubbing gently, the fighter in him was losing the battle yet again.

Ranma hated losing.

“D'no if I c'n stop,” he said, gasping when his erecting ground against her jean-clad body as though the organ had a mind of his own, “y'r g'na have't'brain me…” He managed, even as he shifted to hold both of her wrists in one hand and reached down to pop off the button on her pants with a snap. He kissed her before she could say something, and though he tried to pull away, Akane seemed to sink into the kiss. She moaned a little and he pressed against her lips with his tongue until she opened her mouth, and then he deepened the kiss. He ran his tongue all over the inside of her mouth, and sucked on her lower lip a little when she pulled away to gasp for air.

“I don't…” Akane trailed off as his hand wandered into her pants, and she made a tiny, almost frightened noise when his fingers found the front of her underwear and rubbed, gently, at the moist flesh under the thin cotton garment.

Her arousal was all over his hand, and he whimpered and bucked helplessly against her leg. This wasn't right. “M… make me stop…” Ranma whispered.

After a few, panting moments, Akane nodded briskly. She wrenched her hands out of his baby-slack grip - his hold had weakened, along with his knees - and brought her fists down on top of his head with a thump.

…

Ranma stumbled back dazedly as Akane fought back tears. She was phenomenally embarrassed; she loved Ranma, but knew, just from the way he was reacting, that he did not feel the same way. Despite the Saffron… incident and his gentler, maybe even flirtatious attitude with her in the last year, Ranma saw her as a friend.

Why else would he be so desperate to get away?

He wasn't moving very much from where he leaned against her desk, head lolling back. Thanking the gods the curtains were closed, Akane moved around to the side, hands covering her breasts, intending to get a shirt from her closet.

Hearing a crack, she turned to see her fiancÃ© break off a piece of wood from her desk as he gripped the edge, white-knuckled, staring at her. Ranma's eyes, normally a pale blue, had become tinged with something almost black now. “`Kane, jus' go… leaf…” He huffed out, sweat-soaked chest heaving with each ragged breath.

Biting back tears, she nodded and grabbed a tank top, pulling the garment on over her head. Moving to go through the door, she suddenly remembered she needed to keep the door locked, and that if she left she'd be locked out of the room if something happened to him. And then there was the window… What if one of his other - she gritted her teeth - fiancÃ©es came through the door or the window, and found him like… well, like the way he was?

“Move away from the window; I'll sit on the roof outside.” Akane said, proud that her voice didn't quaver.

But Ranma didn't move. “C'n't move… d'no… wh'll hap'n.” his words were badly slurred, as though he'd dunked his brain and tongue in sake, “d'n wanna—”

“I know perfectly well what you `don't wanna do'!” Akane snapped, huffing and turning away from him. Ranma made a confused sound and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye as he reached for her, a look of intense concentration on his face. Squeaking, Akane skittered clumsily out of his reach and almost fell over onto her bed.

“Why're y'mad?” He mumbled plaintively, sounding more coherent than he had a few moments ago. Akane gulped when she remembered that he was naked, but she steeled herself; so what if he was naked? So what if his muscled abdomen was shuddering and rippling with suppressed movements? So what if the way his shoulders were quivering reminded her of the sweet way he'd held her at Juusenkyo almost a year ago? So what if he had dimples on his butt?

Akane fanned her face for a minute, and tried to keep her expression in the form of a scowl - it wasn't easy. “Well, why else?” She barked out a disbelieving laugh at his dumbstruck stare. “You obviously think I'm so hideous you don't even want to take advantage of me!”

Despite the poison, and the obvious haze of lust on his face, Ranma still managed to look at her like she'd grown a second head. “What?” He croaked out, one of his hands slipping closer to her across the desk. Akane watched that hand, the bones shifting underneath the sweaty skin. She nibbled her lip and wrenched her eyes away, shutting them tightly against her own fears.

“If it was any of your other fiancÃ©es, you wouldn't even be able to stop yourself, huh?” Akane said softly, too hurt to care how ridiculous she sounded. `How dare you not ravish me' sounded so bombastically stupid, but that was basically what she was saying. She was just so tired of all the doubts and denials, of the `almosts' and the `not-quites,' the interruptions and—

Her thoughts were cut off by a hot hand gripping her hip and yanking her forward into a hard chest. Akane gasped and looked up into Ranma's face; his darkened eyes were hooded by his hair, moistened with sweat, and his mouth was partway open.

...

Her body was so hot, though she shivered. Ranma felt like his hands were locked in place against her hips, however, and he couldn't pull away even if she suddenly caught fire. “`Kane, ju's don' wanna hurt you.” Ranma managed, gasping with the effort to talk like a normal human being.

A pink tongue darted out and moistened her lips. Ranma remembered what it had felt like to have that muscled appendage in his mouth and shuddered. He was too focused on his control to be embarrassed by his nakedness, by her closeness to a very delicate part of him - normally, this would be cause for alarm, as Akane was always more likely to hit first and ask questions later.

But the Saotome Clan was not ruined by a well-placed knee to his groin, and he remained standing even as he leaned in and captured her mouth in a kiss that made his toes curl.

Akane's arms pushed against him for a moment in surprise, and then relaxed. She flexed her hands against his ribs, molding her fingers into the grooves of his well-defined muscles and sending more, impossibly more, heat out from her palms. He ripped his mouth away to press his lips against her cheek.

The lust roiling in his head tumbled out of his mouth. “Don' wan' the oth'r's,” she gasped against his neck as he mouthed the spot just behind her ear that had made her squirm before, when she was under him on the bed, “love you, `kane… so stron', so boo'ful…” He mumbled, knowing what he was saying in some distant part of him.

And that distant part of him, the part of Ranma that had not been completely suffused with Shanpu's poison gaped in shock, and promptly faded away out of fear of Akane's response to his careless - but heartfelt - admission. The burning behind his eyes and in his skull, the pain and the pressure he hadn't even known was there, increased briefly and he let out a sharp gasp as the sun in his groin went supernova.

“Oh… I-I love you, too… oh Ranma!” That did it. His name, torn from her lips in a breathless moan, acted like some sort of triggering mechanism. As she wrapped her arms around him to hug him, his body bowed backwards. Any part of him left that even remotely understood words like `caught,' `wedding,' and `tomorrow,' left him like rats escaping a sinking ship. And sink S.S. Ranma did, right to his knees.

“Ah! Wha— What are you doing?! Are you okay…?” Akane's question fell on ears deaf to everything except tone, and Ranma frowned. Akane's voice did not have the pitch he wanted.

Something smelled good, musty, like noodles in sweet bean sauce, and his mouth sought that smell. “Eep!” Akane squeaked and dug her fingers into his scalp. Ranma rumbled approvingly at the electrifying contact and buried his face against her jean-clad crotch, mouthing her through the thick material. “Um… R-Ranma…” his body shuddered when she said his name again - he recognized that word, a bright, hot light in a sea of dark sound.

That moist material was in his way. He reached up and grabbed the waistband of her jeans and tugged urgently. Akane fought him for a few moments, but he knew that she would understand what he wanted soon enough, so he kept pulling until her hands slipped away and he pulled her pants down. “Ranma, those are my pants!” Akane hissed; she sounded angry again. Was she mad at him? That was probably because he'd stopped pleasing her. He tried to apologize, but all that came out was another throaty growl.

That was sufficient enough, he decided, though, because as he leaned in to tongue her through her underwear, Akane moaned softly and went completely still. Slowly, her fingers started massaging his scalp, and Ranma reached up under her tank top to stroke her soft, but firm abdomen affectionately.

…

This was bad.

But he loved her, and his ministrations felt so good…

No, no this was bad. Wrong. She was taking advantage of him.

Strange, the situation looked to be the other way around.

Akane bucked her hips against his face without thinking and slowly sank back against the bed. Ranma made a happy little noise against her crotch, like a chuckle, and pressed his hand against her stomach until she was lying back on her bed.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't so bad.

Her eyes felt like they were going to cross as his mouth moved, hot and moist, against her panties. The fabric was a sweet, torturous barrier between his mouth and her flesh, and she desperately squirmed until he seemed to understand what she maybe wanted - but shouldn't, a small, rapidly shrinking part of her mind squeaked - and slowly slid the garment off of her.

Akane's eyes snapped open, now, and she couldn't remember when she'd closed them. Losing her nerve, she reached down, intending to cup her sex from his gaze - and other prying parts - but only succeeded in pressing against the top of his head as he returned to his position against her center. “Ooh… ah… Ranma!” Bouncing her head off the bed a little as she tilted back to bring her hips up automatically, Akane's eyes rolled back in her head. As Ranma moaned loudly against her flesh, he worked at her with his tongue and lips, and the more noise she made, the more he would run his mouth across whatever spot she responded to.

After divesting her completely, clumsily, of her pants, which had been around her ankles, and her panties, Ranma set about grabbing her thighs in his sweaty hands. He settled her knees over his shoulders and pressed more urgently against her with his mouth. Something started to tighten inside her, and she felt a familiar sensation building up and up…

Back arching off the bed, Akane gasped as lights danced in her vision and her entire body was suffused with heat that originated from the campfire in her groin and spread out as she came. Ranma groaned, the sound muffled against her body, and licked her, long and slow, making her shudder again.

…

Looking up at her, Ranma stood, slowly, and pulled Akane's tank top off of her pliant body. Her legs were open, inviting, and her chest was flushed pink with arousal. Watching the heaving of her breasts as she caught her breath after her climax, Ranma licked his lips in a predatory fashion. Grasping her calves, he slowly moved her legs until her knees were bent and then leaned down, aiming his erection at her entrance.

Akane gasped and placed her hands against his stomach, shivering, eyes wide as she stared at him. Ranma smiled lopsidedly, and tried to explain that she was okay, that he was just going to fuck her brains out until the fire inside him poured out.

“Ssss…”

“What?” Akane asked, visibly bewildered. Ranma frowned a little as something in the back of his mind started screaming at the top of its lungs. He grunted and squinted his eyes shut, moving slightly away from her. Dimly, he noticed she was sitting up and staring worriedly at him, but he was too busy clutching his head and trying not to puke.

“Ranma?” The word washed the pain in his head away like a tsunami washes away a bunny rabbit.

He pounced on her like a jungle cat, sinuous body undulating against hers as he pinned her against her pillows with his weight. Akane gasped as he kissed her, probing her mouth with his tongue and sucking on her lips eagerly. He could feel the heat from her body against his groin, and knew… that was where he could extinguish the fire in his belly. Right there…

“Ah!” Akane yelped when he slid inside her in one smooth thrust, and grabbed a hold of his shoulders, digging in her nails.

The heat inside his body slowly, slowly drained away. Ranma couldn't move as his body seemed to cool down to almost freezing, compared to a moment ago. He hadn't realized how overheated he was. The sensation the drug inside him receding momentarily made him dizzy, and he completely forgot where he was, what he was doing, and who he was buried hilt-deep in.

Slowly, his higher brain functions reasserted themselves. Eyes closed in concentration, Ranma took stock of himself, feeling as though he'd been out of his body for centuries, not a few minutes: no bones broken, muscles in good shape, dick.

Groaning, Ranma twitched his hips forward on instinct alone, eliciting a gasp from somewhere.

His eyes snapped opened.

“Holy shit, omigod, I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!” Ranma leaped away from her, erection slipping out of her to slap against his stomach as he crouched at the other end of her bed, making warding signs with his hands.

Dammit, her body had felt so good; at least, Ranma thought lamely, he had gotten to be inside her before she turned him into paste.

“Ranma?” The trigger word no longer did anything unnatural to him, but the sound of his name crossing her lips did make him shiver with excitement. “Ranma? Hey, you dummy! I'm not going to hurt you!”

Ranma looked up, cautiously, and saw Akane sitting up and frowning at him.

…

Ranma seemed normal now, but confused, Akane decided. His eyes, at least, were the same blue that Akane loved, the little fish having left at some point. Did he remember what he'd said to her, though? Akane felt a pang of guilt - if she'd taken advantage of him, she was going to kill herself.

“Did I… hurt you?” Ranma asked hoarsely, averting his eyes from her nude body with visible effort.

Akane blushed so red she thought her face would burn off. “A… a little, but not bad…” she paused, picking at the blanket, tears stinging her eyes, not sure what she was going to say, but sure of what she wanted, “um… are you mad at me?” Even if he didn't want to be with her, she at least had to know.

“Why should I be? I'm the one who a-attacked you,” he shuddered, blushing, “I'm so sorry Akane. It's all Shanpu's fault!” Ranma growled, slapping his open palm with his fist. Akane giggled in spite of the situation when the motion made his erection jump a little. Ranma looked up at her and smiled shyly.

“Well, I'm not mad… I mean, I was, at first, but when you… said what you said…” She trailed off, shaking. If he denied saying he loved her… that was it. She didn't know where she'd go, but she'd have to leave, because Akane couldn't bear to be with him if he denied loving her again.

Ranma gulped. “When I… oh, uh,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, and then took a deep breath, “I meant what I said.”

Her heart thudded in her chest and Akane felt like crying and shouting all at once. Leaping across the bed, unselfconscious of her nakedness, Akane pulled him into a hug. “Ranma!” She gasped, happy tears crisscrossing her face.

…

Carefully, he returned the hug, pressing her naked body against him. “Akane…” he sighed softly, “I love you.” Saying the words again, when he was more coherent, made him smile goofily. She sniffled and kissed his throat. The gesture was obviously meant to be just a quick brush of the lips, but Akane didn't pull her head away immediately. Ranma made a squeaking sound, and tilted his head back unconsciously, to allow her better access, as Akane mouthed across his throat and up to his jaw, then to his lips. They kissed passionately, and Akane seemed intensely aware of how naked he was. Her hands fluttered nervously at his chest, as though he hadn't just been inside her.

Frowning, he pushed her away to look in her eyes. “Why ain't you, like, totally killing me right now?”

Flushing prettily, Akane looked down at his bare chest. “Um… I kinda… don't mind… if you don't. I… love you.” She finished quickly, darting her eyes up at him.

If the gods themselves came down and told Ranma Saotome that the only way he was going to not going to be boiled alive, was to not have sex with Akane right then, he would have been pruning up already. As it was, Ranma leaned forward and grasped Akane by the shoulders, staring into her eyes before he kissed her soundly.

They tilted back on the bed, nude and still sweaty. Akane fumbled around, spreading her legs for him, and he gasped at the feeling of her heat against his erection. This time, however, he was completely in control of himself. He slid in slowly, cautiously, watching her face for any signs of distress. Akane was tilting her head back, chest heaving slightly; she let out a throaty little groan when he was completely inside of her again, and Ranma mimicked her without realizing that he could even make that sound himself. She was so hot, so wet from all their earlier activity.

...

Pushing her hips up against his, Akane moved with her fiance a little clumsily at first, two virgins trying out sex for real this time, seeing what fit, what worked.

This time... it was wonderful.

Ranma was kissing her face and her lips, nuzzling her throat and rubbing her breasts with his hands. Every part of him that was touching her made her skin tingle. “Ranma, Ranma...” Akane moaned, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder and locking her legs around his, trying to bring him in deeper; it wasn't hard to do, all large, meaty things considered.

Suddenly, Ranma went rigid all over his body, instead of just one particular part of him. For a moment, Akane thought he'd climaxed already, but when she didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, just the pulsing pleasure in her groin, she looked at his stupefied expression, which was directed at the window. Akane tilted her own head back, following his gaze.

Shanpu.

Sitting outside the window on the ledge. A look like murder on her face. A few twigs in her hair.

The window shattered with a noise like a gunshot, and a chui came screaming at Akane's face. But the chui impacted with the wall, instead, because Ranma grabbed her waist, dropping off the bed in a roll that ended with her on top of him.

With him still sheathed inside of her. Deciding that, though she was new to sex, and therefore didn't know what she wanted quite yet, she was fairly sure she didn't want to make love in front of Shanpu, especially when the girl was trying to kill her. Springing off of Ranma and toward Shanpu, Akane snapped out with a back-kick that took the enraged Amazon in the chin. Tottering back for a moment, Shanpu recovered despite her berserker rage and raised her remaining mace, pointing it at Akane.

“AIREN-STEALER DIE NOW! SHANPU KILL PERVERT GIRL!” The weapon rose, Akane readied herself...

“SHANPU, ENOUGH!” Shanpu froze mid-swing, mace shaking. Akane had bent backwards, ready to drop and kick the weapon away, but she, too, stopped dead. Ranma got to his feet after his shout, still naked, blushing madly but looking appropriately angry. “This is all your fault, anyway, you... you... you psycho! Get out of my house and don't come back!” Akane opened her mouth to say something and then clamped her teeth shut, because he was kind of right.

“Airen, I—”

Ranma interrupted her visciously. “No! Get out! I don't owe you anything! Just get the hell out!” Shanpu drooped for a moment, tears welling in her eyes. Eyes which narrowed a nanosecond later. Reaching over, the Amazon grabbed a glass of water off of Akane's desk and threw the cold contents at Ranma, who changed into a tiny, red-haired women now that the poison had worn off.

“Shanpu kill girl-type Ranma.” The Amazon said darkly. Before Akane could wonder where the cup of water had even come from, Shanpu swept forward. Ranma and Akane, both naked and still tired and shaky from their... experience, were taken aback for a moment.

Ranma recovered quickly enough, ducking under Shanpu's first attack, his smaller female form making him faster than the Amazon. He rolled into the Amazon's legs and sent her sprawling onto the floor. Akane acted before the crazed Amazon could recover and grabbed the woman by the seat of her pants and the collar of her shirt, tossing her bodily out the window she'd broken through.

Panting, both young people listened to the familiar splash, followed by a sputtering and yowling that elicited a noise from Ranma's mouth that sounded distinctly like a whimper. Without thinking, Akane wrapped her arms around the smaller girl and just held her, ignoring the feeling of Ranma's naked breasts gooshing into hers. "Shh, shh, it's okay, the kitty can't get in here." She soothed.

…

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to anyone, Akane was lying.

Ranma was shivering, trapped between rage and fear, when a hiss dragged his consciousness into full-on panic mode. “A-Akane, c-c-c—” He couldn't even get the word out as he saw the furry kitten perched on the windowsill, slitted eyes narrowed in hatred. His girlish falsetto made his terrified squeal sound even more humorous, but Ranma wasn't in the mood for humor. He was too busy trying to think of an escape route.

“Leave us alone Shanpu!” Akane shrieked, and like a vengeful deity she lashed out at the tiny animal, but Shanpu was even faster than Ranma as a cat. The transformed Amazon rocketed toward his engorged chest like Shanpu was a furry torpedo, and Ranma was a submarine that could shout in fear and flail around.

Claws, everywhere claws and teeth and hissing. Dimly, he heard Akane's voice, but she was too late. Normally, Shanpu's cursed form had less effect on him, because deep inside he knew she wasn't really a cat, but everything that had happened to him today had already weakened him. His emotions and physical body had been whipsawed so much that all Shanpu had to do was sink in her claws and teeth to his back as he turned to run. Ranma's consciousness tipped into blissful oblivion, and for the second time that day the fighter in him took a break.

…

Akane noticed the change in her fiance immediately, as anyone who had a pair of working eyes could. One moment, Ranma was trying to run from Shanpu as though the little cat was about one-hundred times larger and on fire, and the next the shorter girl was crouched on the floor, yowling dangerously.

Shanpu didn't have a chance; she was thrown for a second time through the window, and only the koi pond saved her from becoming a stain on the Tendou lawn. Akane peered out the window, but the Amazon bolted - even she wasn't so stupid as to attack Ranma when he was in the Nekoken.

Turning back to her transformed fiance, Akane sighed. The mood, whatever it had been, was totally ruined.

Ranma was yowling angrily and pacing restlessly around the room, sniffing for other intruders. “C'mon, here kitty, kitty, let's snap you out of it.” Purring happily, Ranma obediently followed her out of the room. Glancing around, Akane listened for any signs that, perhaps, they weren't alone in the house before venturing out in the buff to the furo. There were still some clothes there from laundry earlier, so they'd at least have something to change into.

Padding almost silently at her heels, Ranma was making cute little chirruping noises in her female falsetto, and Akane smiled a little. She had always liked Ranma this way - he was so much more affectionate. Then again, she thought, blushing, he couldn't very well be considered not affectionate now.

Patting her flushed cheeks nervously before sliding open the fusuma to the outer bath, Akane tried to calm herself down and not think about what her and her fiance had been doing before Shanpu interrupted them. The sweet soreness between her legs, however, was very persistent in reminding her.

Ranma followed her calmly into the furo, but seemed unnerved at their wet surroundings, as any cat would. “Calm down, kitty,” Akane said sweetly, patting Ranma's hair, enjoying the way he rubbed his soft, female cheek against her hand, even if she sort of wished he was a boy at the moment, “okay, let's get you changed.” Akane reached over and grabbed the shower head, careful to keep pressure against Ranma's hair. She turned on the water, and Ranma growled a warning, stiffening under her hand.

“Nice kitty!” Akane cried, and sprayed her fiance, turning him from a crouching young woman to a crouching young man with a persistent erection.

...

Hard, hard, hurting hard! Ranma groaned and had to resist the urge to grab his crotch. “Oh good, you're back!” Akane cried happily, turning off the water. Keeping his eyes closed, Ranma assessed himself again, finding that he was okay despite the wounds from Shanpu on his left shoulder, and the agonizing ache between his legs. Maybe the pain was residual from the poison.

“Hey,” Ranma began, standing, wincing, uncaring of his nakedness, “sorry about that.” He kept his eyes shut, because Akane was naked and he still wasn't sure how to act now that their relationship had changed.

“It's okay,” Akane said quietly, “do your eyes hurt or something? Ooh, these cuts are nasty!” He felt her hands on his face and breathed in sharply when her stomach brushed against his raging hard on.

“N-no,” he stammered, snapping his eyes open to stare over her head as she inspected the scratches and bites on his shoulder with callused, tiny fingers, “Akane, um...” Flushing awkwardly, he waited until she looked up at him curiously. “Is it okay if... we...”

When he didn't finish his sentence, Akane continued to stare at him, one eyebrow raised above her chocolate brown eyes. “Nevermind.” Ranma croaked, losing his nerve. Frowning, Akane nodded, slowly, and led him out of the furo. They dressed and went upstairs. Akane paused at the top and looked back at him, still frowning.

“I just realized,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips, “we forgot to use... ah, protection.”

“URK.” Ranma responded intellectually. Akane giggled and shyly took his hand, leading him into his room.

“That's okay,” she whispered shyly, “Nabiki gave me some... pills, and I've been taking those for a while.”

“GAH.” Ranma continued, still trying to maintain his end of the conversation even though his higher brain functions were shutting off one by one, because Akane was now standing on his futon, because Akane was now undressing again, and it was of no consequence that he'd seen her nude a few moments ago, and that they'd been having sex before that, because she was stripping for him, and her clothes were on his futon now and she was reaching for his pants—

“A-aah...” Ranma hissed when Akane reached into his pants and firmly grasped his erection. “A-Akane!” Her name came out in a squeak as she started to rub him, her small hand applying quite a lot of pressure, “A-a little softer!”

“Oops, sorry!” Her grip immediately loosened, but not too much. Sighing, Ranma tilted his head back and enjoyed the handjob. “We didn't get to finish, really,” Akane whispered, kissing his throat, curling his toes, “I was worried you would be too mad to.”

“Never.” He said quickly, looking down at her shy expression. Akane smiled the smile that melted him inside, and he smiled back at her, breathing out shakily when her grip tightened again, pleasantly this time.

“That's nice to hear.” Tugging on his hand, never taking her other off his penis, Akane helped him down onto his futon. They kissed and stroked each other, Ranma desperate to get out of his clothing. Free of the confining fabric, he soon found himself on his back, with Akane slowly lowering herself on his manhood. Buried inside her for a third time in that blissful, wonderful day, he groaned and watched her breasts bouncing.

How the hell could he have ever insulted those?