Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Mamoru's Birthday Surprise ❯ Chapter 1

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

"MAMORU'S BIRTHDAY SURPRISE"
A Sailor Moon lemon fanfic

By Bill K.

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Sailor Moon and all related characters are (c)2002 by Naoko Takeuchi/
Kodansha and Toei Animation and are used without permission, but with
respect. Story is (c)2002 by Bill Kropfhauser

As always, for those only familiar with the English dub:

Usagi=Serena
Ami=Amy
Rei=Raye
Makoto=Lita
Minako=Mina
Haruka=Amara
Michiru=Michelle
Setsuna=Trista
Mamoru=Darien
Chibi-Usa=Rini

Finally, Haruka and Michiru are NOT cousins.
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"This is the only historical text I could find here," Rei said,
handing Usagi a very old, very brown book. "Be careful with it. Some of
the pages are really brittle."

"OK, OK," Usagi said impatiently, leafing through the book. "Aren't
there any pictures?"

"It's a historical text, not a manga," Rei scowled. Usagi scrunched
up her face at the girl.

"I'm looking for something specific, OK?" Usagi fumed.

"Well they've probably got more books on Japanese cultural history in
the library, you know."

"I know," Usagi said, skimming the pages. "But Ami's busy with cram
school and you know I can't find anything in the library without her!" She
shot Rei an evil eye. "And no shots!"

"Sure, take all the fun out of my life," grumbled Rei. "Just answer
me one question: What are you planning and how does it involve Mamoru?"

"That's two questions," Usagi said. "And how do you know it involves
Mamo-chan?!"

"You forget who you're talking to," Rei smirked. "Every time you
obsess on Mamoru, you give off certain psychic vibes - - just the way you
are now."

Usagi blushed. "Nosy," she grumbled.

"Hey, I spend half my life in a shrine! Of course I'm nosy! Now
what's cooking in that head of yours?"

"Well, if you must know," huffed Usagi in exasperation, "Mamo-chan's
birthday is next week," and Usagi looked away in embarrassment, "and I,
well, want to do something special for him."

"Really?" Rei said, brow arched. "How special?"

Usagi blushed furiously. "Rei Hino, you have a dirty mind!"

"That's also because I spend half my life in a shrine," Rei scowled.

"It's nothing like that! I just . . ." Suddenly Usagi sucked in
air, signaling she'd discovered something. Rei tried to glance at the page
she was looking at, but Usagi slammed the book shut.

"Rei, can I borrow this? Just to get the page copied? I SWEAR I'll
bring it back! Please?" Usagi gasped out, appealing to her friend with
those big blue vivacious eyes.

"OK," Rei sighed helplessly. Usagi snatched up the book and scurried
out. "But be careful with that!" Rei called after her. "And I want
details the next morning, you hear!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Usagi screamed over her shoulder.
* * * *
Mamoru closed the door to his apartment and sagged against it. He
silently congratulated himself on making it home from study by eight
instead of midnight this time. This meant he'd actually have time for
dinner at a decent hour. They always warned him that being a med student
was tough, but words never quite captured just how tough.

"Maybe I should just become a construction worker," he sighed. "They
don't have to go through another five years of this."

Suddenly his senses told him someone else was in the apartment. His
body alert and primed to move, he began to inch toward the door to his
kitchen. Shuffling could be heard just behind it. The door eased open.

Out came a woman dressed as a traditional geisha. For a moment
Mamoru wondered if he was in the right apartment. She wore a beautiful
light green kimono with intricate floral patterns embroidered on the silk.
The wide black sash around her middle emphasized a slim waist, a nice chest
and desirable hips beneath the kimono. The traditional black wig, with the
hair piled on top of the head and pinned with long teak rods, adorned her
head, while ornate decorations dangled from it. Her face was painted white
while inky black mascara highlighted her vibrant blue eyes and attractive
red accentuated her pouty mouth. She shuffled daintily along the floor in
traditional white slippers. At first Mamoru was at a loss to explain who
she was or why she was there.

Then he noticed she was Usagi's height.

"Usako?" he asked. She smiled sweetly, her eyes twinkling, and bowed
to him. "Is it really you?"

"Of course it is!" she growled, her mouth twisting into that
frustrated pout that only she could manage. "Just how many strange women
do you have wandering around your apartment?"

"I swear, you're the only strange woman I've ever had here," he joked
and she shot him an evil glare. "So just how did you get into my
apartment?"

She sighed in exasperation. "I, well, used the crystal to make
myself a key," she admitted reluctantly. "Now will you stop asking silly
questions! You're spoiling the mood!"

Then she slipped back into character. "This humble servant is your
geisha for the evening." She bowed again. "If it pleases you, she begs
you to allow her to serve and entertain you."

Mamoru stood stunned as Usagi lightly glided up to him. She knelt at
his feet and slipped his shoes off. The transformation was remarkable.
She really looked like she had stepped out of one of the historical dramas
that ran on television. Rising, she slipped his jacket from him, then
guided him to the table in the center of the room.

"Please sit, Chiba-san," Usagi whispered in a demure, delicate voice
that Mamoru couldn't help feeling attracted to. "I have prepared tea for
you." She motioned with a graceful gesture and Mamoru spotted a guitar
near the table.

"You're not going to sing, are you?" he teased.

Usagi's eyes flared for a moment. "If this one's singing proves to
disappoint, Chiba-san," she replied, barely restraining her temper, "this
one is gifted in story and can also dance for your amusement. This one
remains at your service. Please sit. I will bring you tea and then amuse
you on this special occasion."

Of course - - it was his birthday. Mamoru smiled. She was doing
this for his birthday. How completely Usagi. He watched her glide into
the kitchen again. Oh, but what a thing to do. She was like a fantasy
come to life. Being "forbidden women", geasha's were naturally tempting to
nearly any Japanese male. But how did she know? Had he given her some
clue accidentally? Was it just a lucky guess, or was she using some sixth
sense that women had that told them how to utterly entrance a man. With
great effort, he had to remind himself that she was still only seventeen.
Though she'd demonstrated so much maturity since they'd first found each
other three years ago, she was still just a child in too many ways that
were important. Mamoru drew a deep breath and sighed it out. Still, she
was maturing - - and she was getting harder and harder to resist.

"Just keep telling yourself 'Geisha's are to look at, not to touch',"
he whispered to himself.

Those thoughts drained away when she entered the room again.
Carrying a tray with teapot and cups, Usagi minced along the floor. She
looked so feminine and so adult. And suddenly Mamoru wished there were
words in the language to communicate to her just how much this meant to
him.

However, Usagi was and would ever be Usagi. A misstep caught the
hem of her kimono under her foot. She lurched forward, awkwardly
off-balance, pitching the tray out in front of her. A squeal of horror
followed the teapot down until it impacted with the carpet and broke. Tea
spilled everywhere even as Mamoru ascended to his feet and she descended to
her knees. He was to her in seconds, clutching her by her arms. Her head
was bowed and he knew what was coming.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, her tears sending black rivulets
streaking down her white cheeks. "I wanted this birthday to be special - -
wanted to show you just how much I love you - - but I'm always so clumsy!"
She sobbed bitterly, refusing to look at him.

"And it was special," he whispered. "That you'd go to all of this
trouble just to be my dream girl shows me once more just how much you
really are my dream girl." Her tear-stained eyes turned up hopefully to
him. "Teapots can be replaced. Carpets can be cleaned. But the memory
you gave me, of seeing you like this and finding out it was you, is
priceless. It will stay with me until I die and always remind me of your
love whenever I begin to doubt."

"Oh, Mamo-chan," she beamed, even as the tears continued to stream.

And suddenly there was something in the room, some look or scent or
something that told them now was the time. Impetuously his lips leaped to
hers like iron filings to a magnet. Usagi tried to put her arms around
him, but Mamoru's grip on them was too strong to break. Instead she
hugged him with her mouth, pressing her lips to his until they began to
bruise. When he finally, reluctantly pulled away, she gazed up starry-eyed
at him.

"I love you so, my little geisha," he whispered, staring transfixed
by her.

Usagi giggled. "Chiba-san, this one's makeup is all over your face."

Mamoru smiled. "And I believe I've smeared your lipstick. With your
leave, I'll smear it again."

"As Chiba-san wishes. This one is here but to serve," she smiled and
puckered, anticipating his mouth upon hers.

As his face neared hers, Usagi closed her eyes to focus on her sense
of touch and savor the feel of his mouth on hers. The event lived up to
the anticipation. As she felt him press to her, she felt engulfed by his
very maleness and she arched to him. His arms closed around her, trapping
hers to her sides, and something primal seemed to come alive inside of her.
She groaned into his mouth as her insides tightened, demanding things that
up to this point she hadn't been able to give. The stimulus generated by
that small patch of sensitive skin - - her lips - - combined with the
sensations from her swelling nipples rubbing against the silk of the
kimono, the scent of Mamoru filling her nostrils and the power of his body
swallowing her up, to send her passions burning and her senses swimming.

When they finally parted, Usagi had no conscious mind to form words
with. Her breathing shallow, she could only look up at him, a single mute
question in her eyes. When she saw the same question, harbored shyly in
those eyes that suddenly seemed so darling and child-like, her mouth spread
into a timid smile. Her smile mirrored on his face, her hopefulness in his
expression. She could suddenly see all the pain of the loneliness he'd
lived with for so long and she desperately wanted to wash it away, to
cleanse him. Her delicate hands slid up his chest to the second button of
his shirt.

"If Chiba-san will allow," she whispered, her eyes darting down
demurely.

His hand cupped under hers only long enough to lift them to his
mouth. A delicate kiss was planted on them, then he released them to do
their work. Moving deftly, slowly, enjoying the feel of his chest as she
worked, Usagi opened the shirt down to his belt. Grasping the shirt by the
collar, she eased it over his shoulders and off him, arching her body into
his as she did so. It was a gesture as much for her pleasure as it was for
his.

Her hands fell to his belt. She grasped it to open it, but held up
after the belt parted. The last emotion Usagi expected to sweep her body
was apprehension. But her mind suddenly feared doing or saying something
stupid and ruining everything. Mamoru felt her tense in his arms.

"Scared?" he asked.

"Yes," she squeaked. "I don't know why. We were doing fine a minute
ago. I want to, I do . . ."

"Calm down," he smiled. "Concentrate on the fact that I love you and
I'll always love you. But if it becomes too much for you, tell me. I
promise I'll understand."

Then his hand disappeared behind his back, only to return with a
single red rose in it. He presented it to her. Usagi took it, cupping it
in her hands. She pressed it to her face and, for a moment seemed about to
burst into happy tears. Her eyes looked up tenderly at him as she placed
the rose on the floor.

Though it didn't quite go as deftly as she'd always read in the
romance novels she'd devoured at fourteen, Usagi got Mamoru's pants off.
The sight of him naked seemed to overwhelm her and she sat motionless,
scarcely breathing, as he leaned in close to her. He lightly kissed her
on the mouth, then reached around her to undo the sash. Her breath
shuddered in her chest as his very proximity seemed to send her blood
racing. She felt his hands slither under the kimono where it was gathered
over her chest and held herself perfectly still as he eased it away. She
was too scared to move. Her clumsiness couldn't break the mood if she
didn't move, so she resolved not to move.

Sitting naked before him, wondering if he was disappointed and not
wanting to know, Usagi waited for Mamoru to act. She was his, then and
forever, and her only prayer was that he be kind.

His hands gripped her gently, but firmly, on the arms and he eased
her down onto her back. He bent in and his lips touched the artery along
her neck. And that was all it took. Usagi cooed her climax, a small timid
sound that barely betrayed the raging wave of ecstasy engulfing her at that
moment. If it was possible to climax from just the touch of his lips, what
more lay in store for her?

For he wasn't finished. As his lips nibbled at her neck, his hand
slipped down to her breast. The hand seemed to encompass it, gently
grasping it, but with a firmness that told her she was his. Her hands were
around him before she realized it, even as the skin of his palm passing
lightly over the top of the nipple sent fits through her. Usagi's fingers
dug into his back. She knew she couldn't draw him to her, so she strained
to draw herself to him. All the while his left hand held her shoulder and
his right massaged her breast.

"Stop teasing me," she whispered. Her level of excitement was
already higher than anything she could remember: The tilt-a-whirl at the
park, the first time she transformed into Sailor Moon, even that moment
fighting Zoicite when she discovered Mamoru was Tuxedo Mask and even more,
her long lost Endymion.

Mamoru responded by letting his hand and mouth explore every inch of
her fragile upper body. His touch continued to enflame her as he moved
from the breast to her ribs, her stomach, her breastbone. She couldn't
think. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was pull herself to him as
if she were trying to pull through him.

"So soft," she heard him whisper. She could only groan in response.
Her mouth sought out his again, guiding him to her with a fist full of his
black hair. If it hurt, he didn't seem to notice. She jammed her lips to
his. Every nerve in her body seemed to feel him, like he was all around
her, engulfing her. Every aspect of the world was forgotten. She didn't
know his name, didn't know hers. All she knew was he felt good and she
wanted more and more and even more.

Inspired by his roving hands, Usagi began to explore his frame. Her
fingertips registered the way the muscles of his back flexed. She took in
the broadness of his shoulders, the smoothness of his skin, the way his
lips burned on hers. Her hands slithered down to his cheeks. She rubbed
up and down across them and it seemed to spur him on. Emboldened, she
squeezed them and he kissed her neck even harder.

"Do it, Mamo-chan," she whispered. "Make me yours."

If she thought she couldn't feel anything more, so overloaded was her
brain, Usagi suddenly registered one of Mamoru's hands slithering through
the downy yellow thatch between her legs. She twittered reflexively, then
silently chided herself for being so girlish. But the hand kept going,
slyly probing in and around between her legs, missing again and again with
its gentle caress her most intimate area. Alive with anticipation, Usagi
groaned when he would come oh so close again and again, brushing over it
on occasion, but never hitting the one spot she wanted him to. When it
finally penetrated, her entire body stiffened and Usagi seemed to suck all
the air in the room into her lungs. Her eyes clamped shut, she expelled
the air in a guttural moan.

Even as Mamoru could feel her wetness on his fingers, she could feel
it as well. She looked up at him. This was it. With calmness born of
utter love and devotion, she reached up to him, cupped her hands around the
back of his neck and gently pulled him to her. As she did, Usagi felt her
lover's hand softly prod her legs open.

"I love you," he whispered.

He bent down again, kissing her along her neck as he penetrated.
Between two of the kisses, she felt a jab of pain and cried out.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing her neck again.

"It's all right," panted Usagi. "It's already . . . ahhhh . . .
already stopped . . . hurting." Usagi drew her thighs up and framed
Mamoru's hips, because it seemed to ease things. "I love you, Mamo-chan,"
she whispered as her arms encircled his back and she hung on as he thrust.
* * * *
The black wig lay a foot away from her, lost sometime during "the
heat of passion". The tea stain in the carpet about two feet from her head
was cold now. Mamoru seemed to doze lightly, his lanky frame draped across
the plush carpet between his sofa and the table. Usagi lay awake, her body
still molded to his, feeling his arm draped across her waist, feeling his
chest rise and fall against hers, feeling him. She just lay there staring
at him happily, taking in every aspect of him. She noted the shape of his
nose, the way his tousled hair fell boyishly into his eyes as he dozed,
noticed the smudges of white makeup on his face and neck, how desirable his
mouth looked. She realized, out of the blue, that this was the first day
of the eternity she was going to spend with this man. The thought filled
her with such utter joy that she felt she would burst.

Mamoru's eyes drifted open. She noticed again that he had beautiful
eyes. They were even more beautiful now because they were missing some of
the sadness and isolation she'd seen in them before and that made her feel
good, like she'd accomplished something besides immense personal
gratification. His mouth curled into a sheepish smile.

"I wasn't really expecting this," Mamoru whispered. "I hope we don't
come to regret it." Usagi looked at him curiously. "We probably shouldn't
have done this without, um, well, using a condom first."

Usagi smiled broadly, happily, touched deeply by his attitude. "Oh,
Mamo-chan, you're always so considerate of me." Then she got a naughty
grin. "But you're forgetting that I don't have my first child until the
thirtieth century. I think we can risk it."

"I hadn't thought of that," Mamoru grinned, looking down shyly.
Usagi thrilled again. After everything they'd been through together, he
was still just her shy, vulnerable little boy - - it made her want to
protect him for the rest of her life. "Sorry you did it?" he whispered.

"No," she replied happily. "Are you?"

"Sorry we didn't do it sooner," he replied warmly.

"No, it wouldn't have been right sooner. This was - - right." She
bit her lip. "I didn't plan it this way, really I didn't - - but happy
birthday, Mamo-chan."

She noticed his eyes begin to tear and she couldn't love him any more
than she did at that moment. Then he flashed her a naughty smirk.

"I can't wait to see what you get me next year," he said. She
giggled and snuggled her body closer to his. She felt his arms encircle
her once more and she wished to any god listening that they never went
away. Each one knew they'd have to break this clinch eventually, but both
seemed determined to hold onto it as long as possible.

And, half a mile away, Rei Hino looked up from her algebra book. A
huge smile worked its way onto her face. She'd been sensing for some time
now the immense joy Usagi had been feeling. Rei didn't know what was
making Usagi so happy - - although she could make a few educated guesses
- - but sensing her princess was so happy made her happy. The vibes were
so strong, she didn't really have much of a choice. Rei closed her book
and reclined back onto her futon.

"I can't wait to hear this," Rei whispered to herself.

END