Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Tug-of-War	By : thewriterwhocameinfromthecold Category: +G to L > Love Hina Views: 57788 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina or it's associated characters. I am not profiting off this work in any way.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
“The Japanese know nothing about beer.” Keitaro’s abductor declared as they left the bar. “Too watery.”
And yet she had drunk so much of it. Rather than come to the defence of his homeland, Keitaro felt inwardly grateful for the booth they had been occupying at the back of the bar. It had cut down on the stares he and his companion received as she boisterously drained his wallet mug by mug.
As they walked down the side street, his companion frowned at him. “So are you going to say anything?”
Keitaro flinched. “I didn’t know you wanted me to speak.”
“That’s what people do in these situations, isn’t it?”
Keitaro scoffed and busied himself by looking at a window display of televisions. “I don’t know. I can honestly say I’ve never ever been in a situation like this.”
The woman cocked a mocking eyebrow. “You’ve never been on a date?”
Had Keitaro been drinking, he’d have performed the most glorious spit take in comedic history. Instead he choked on air. “What?”
She gave him a superior smile. “A date.”
Keitaro’s mind reeled and travelled in reverse, searching the last half hour for any signs he might have missed; but he came up empty. “This is a date?”
She snorted and held up her hands as if it were obvious. “Of course. I invited you, we went to the arcade, we drank together, and now we’re walking.”
The picture she was painting might have made sense, if the interpreter were Salvador Dali. As Keitaro took in this mocking caricature of courtship, he kept tripping over the word ‘invited’. Despite the rough cut of her accent, he felt compelled to congratulate her on her apparent mastery of the fabled ‘Japanese Expression’. A little practice and she’d be using ambiguities like a natural born citizen.
For a second, just a second, a flash of innocent confusion coloured her irritated face. “Aren’t all dates in Japan like this?”
This, along with the last half hour, proved to be too much. Keitaro began snickering into his fist.
“Hey!” She flicked him hard on the forehead. “What are you laughing at, Four-eyes? You should be grateful someone like me is even looking at you.”
That last remark sounded a little too much like Motoko for him to take lying down. “In Japan, women don’t usually drag men by the collar and shake them down for money.”
Surprise fluttered across her face. “Really?” Then she smiled and shrugged. “Oh well. You should thank me for shaking your life up a bit, Mr. Boring.”
Keitaro collapsed against the wall of a closed fruit and vegetable store. Never in all his life had he met someone so impervious to common sense. It was like trying to explain dating to Su.
“What did I do to deserve this?” he asked God.
“You remind me of someone.”
He looked up at the woman. “What was that?”
“You remind me of someone. That’s why.” She glanced at him through lidded eyes as her expression turned wistful.
He knew he shouldn’t ask. He knew he ought to have started running by now, but the sad tint in those commanding eyes drew him further in.
“Who?”
But the moment was over. The superior smile was back in place.
“What’s with you anyway? Cheer up. You can’t be my escort looking like that. What’s got you so down in the mouth anyway?”
Keitaro shook his head. He might very well have been down in the mouth, but he was at least three beers short of spilling his troubles to a complete stranger, no matter how pretty or pushy. “Not a thing.”
The woman wagged her finger. “Girl trouble,” she said with expression of a scholar.
“How could you possibly know that?”
She cackled. “Ha! So I was right!”
Embarrassment at being caught out burned through him, and he looked away. He turned back to the girl and let out a yelp when he saw her standing mere inches from him with something indecipherable in her eyes.
“Would you do anything to keep her?”
Through the veil of his nerves, he pictured his time with Naru and Kitsune in his mind. After their revelation, he wasn’t sure. He was so tired of being used. Their faces faded from his mind and he recalled his promise girl, his beloved dream girl, for whom he faced all his sufferings with a smile.
“Yes,” he said.
The woman nodded, and inched closer. “But do you know how?”
Keitaro squirmed backwards until his head hit a wall. “What do you mean?”
She was towering over him now. She gripped his shoulders and crushed her silk covered bosom against his chest, almost brushing against his chin. For the first time, he could smell the faint traces of her perfume; as spicy and exotic as she was.
“Want to learn how?” She brought his hand to her lips and licked a circle round his index finger. “Yes or no?”
Keitaro felt as if he were being hypnotised. Her scent and warm skin made him feel like he was floating. Her lips were so close now. If he just stood on his toes…
“Yes, please.”
“Good boy.” She kissed him and it was as if lightning had struck him on the lips.
He let out a whimper when she pulled away. He opened his eyes to see her frowning at him once more.
“Well, I can see we’ve got a lot of work to do,” she said, grabbing his wrist. “Hold on tight.”
He latched on to her arm, but she just groaned in disgust and repositioned him until his arms were around her waist. Then she bent her knees and leapt into the air, carrying Keitaro through the air. Keitaro screamed as he looked down to see that they were through the air, up towards a lamppost across the street. The woman stuck out her legs and rebounded off the lamppost towards the building on the other side of the street. Again she rebounded, back and forth off the skyscrapers until they reached the top.
“Couldn’t we take the bus?” an airsick Keitaro cried.
The woman’s feet found purchase on the far skyscaper’s ledge and she launched herself into the air leaping from one building to the next. A few minutes later, though to Keitaro it felt like a year, they landed feather light on a penthouse balcony.
“Where are we?” Keitaro asked between pants, trying to keep his beer down.
The woman jerked the sliding glass door open and gestured through the doorway. “My suite. Your classroom. Here’s where we go over How to Please a Goddess.”
She stepped inside and he followed. A goddess? After that little trip across the city, he could almost believe it. He chuckled to himself as he realised who she reminded him of with her pale hair, dark skin, and crazy clothes: she reminded him of Urd.
The walls were painted in an earth tone dotted with French impressionist prints. A bar sat opposite the balcony, bedecked with crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket. To the left of that on the other side of the foyer was the largest TV Keitaro had ever seen. He doubted it would even have fit through the doorway to his room back at Hinata. Opposite the TV was a giant black wraparound sofa with foot stool in front large enough for half a dozen people to rest their feet. To Keitaro’s right, he could see a dark walnut table and dining chairs with carvings of what looked like sakura petals on the sides. If he saved up his whole life, he figured that he might be able to afford one night in this room. Even the carpet seemed to caress and massage his stocking feet as he turned round to soak in this piece of Shangri La.
“Who are you?” he asked the woman as she leaned against the balcony window, looking at him in amusement.
“My name is Amalla,” she said as she stepped past him toward the bar. She knelt behind it and emerged holding two tumblers and a large decanter filled with some sort of green liquid. She poured until both glasses were almost full to the brim and motioned for Keitaro to join her at the bar. “Drink up.”
He gave the glass a suspicious glance. “What is it?”
She flicked him on the forehead. “Something from home. Now drink.”
Keitaro picked up the glass and watched her do the same, only daring to take a sip when she did. The drink hit his tongue with a sweet burn that travelled all the way down as he swallowed. Notes of honey and chocolate lulled him in, followed by the delightful burn of pepper and cinnamon. He let out a pleased hum as the taste lingered on his tongue and faded like a goodbye kiss. He could have sat with this all night. Amalla, however, was not one to savour. She gulped hers down, and when she saw the delicate and reverent sips he was taking, she forced up the bottom of his glass.
“Drink up!” she called as Keitaro swallowed convulsively.
He dropped the glass on the bar as he fell against it with a hacking cough. He gasped as he felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him. A warm buzzing feeling was spreading from his head to the rest of him. He couldn’t be drunk already, could he?
Amalla was smiling a hungry smile when he pushed himself up to look at her. “Feels good, huh?” She leapt over the bar, landed beside him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Class is in session.”
Before Keitaro could even breathe, her lips were on his as her tongue duelled with his. He tried to mirror her movements, brushing her tongue in the same way she did, running his teeth over her bottom lip like she did. The pleasant buzz was turning into a burning that spread out of his stomach and tortured every inch of his skin. The only relief to be found came from the feel of her bare arms around his neck and the silky skin of her back underneath his hands. Far too little relief as the flames smouldered and grew. He whimpered when Amalla ended the kiss.
“You’re a quick study. Get your clothes off.”
Keitaro’s clothes were soon scattered across the room as he all but ripped them off in search of relief. He was panting as Amalla gave him a speculative glance, as if he were an item for sale.
“Not bad. A bit short. A little doughy around the midsection, maybe, but on the whole…Oh my, you’re certainly looking eager.” She let out a giggle that made Keitaro want to lunge for her, but she stepped away and held out her arms. “Care to take off mine?”
Keitaro leapt forward and his hands shot out for her top; but she batted his hands away.
“Typical man, always going straight for the boobs.” She grabbed his wrist and brought his hand up to the tie in her hair. “Go on.”
Keitaro took the tie off with a gentle tug and watched the moonlight coloured strands fall to her shoulders.
She placed his hands on her shoulders. “If you want to keep a woman, you’ve got to show her that you treasure every part of her.”
Keitaro savoured the all too faint relief of his hands against her arms and he stroked downwards.
“That’s right,” she said. “Now step behind me. The top unties back there. That’s right.”
Keitaro watched enthralled as the top floated to the ground baring Amalla’s proud full breasts and dime-sized chocolate nipples. She grabbed his wrists again before he could get any ideas and brought his hands to her hips where her bare midriff met her skirt.
“You’ve got to treat her like you’re unwrapping a most precious gift. She’s something to be savoured, not swallowed whole.”
Her hands still on his, she pushed down, easing the skirt on a slow journey over her taut legs. Keitaro groaned as he felt the curves of her strong muscles underneath his palms. Underneath the skirt was a jungle green thong, which Keitaro swore had a growing wet spot. He glanced up at Amalla, wondering how long she’d keep up this façade of restraint. She looked down at him and nodded. The thong joined her skirt and Keitaro confirmed that that was indeed her natural hair colour.
Amalla ran a hand through his hair. “Good boy. Your goddess wants a kiss.”
Keitaro came to his feet and placed his lips over hers. He ran his tongue across them, begging leave, but instead she pulled away.
“A good try, but that wasn’t what I meant.” She flopped back on the giant foot stool and spread her legs, looking up at him with a smirk. “Start kissing.”
Keitaro fell on his knees like a penitent before an altar. He ran his hands along her thighs and traced her lips with his fingers. He traced a path upwards to her clit and flicked it with the pad of his thumb. Her breath hitched and then came out in a rush as he ran his tongue along the same path, giving her clit another flick. Then another. Amalla grabbed his hair and pushed his face down as her hips bucked up to meet his tongue.
“Deeper,” she ordered.
Keitaro obeyed and stuck his tongue as far as he could manage, tracing her slick walls as he reached up to rub her clit with his thumb.
“Good, but you could do better. Suck on it.”
He withdrew his tongue and gave her clit a hard kiss. She hissed as he sucked hard on the button and then lapped at it with his tongue.
“Now your fingers. Yes, like that.” She whistled through her teeth as he stuck one then another finger inside her dripping pussy.
Despite her bucking hips and her clutching dripping snatch, Amalla strove to keep a level voice as she continued to instruct him, telling him when thrust his fingers, and when to back off; when to attack her clit and when to pepper it with gentle kisses. She seemed to have an almost superhuman level of control. Several times, Keitaro began to recognise signs that he’d noticed in Naru and Kitsune when he’d fingered them in past; but every time she seemed to approach the precipice of climax, Amalla ordered him to ease off. Keitaro couldn’t understand it. Surely she wanted him to finish her off. What was he missing? More importantly, when was he going to get some attention of his own? His cock was beginning to ache with frustration. Finally, it got to be too much and he reached down to stroke himself, letting out a sigh as pleasure began to replace pain.
“Stop!”
He recoiled as if he’d been shocked. He stared as Amalla got up on shaky legs and glowered down at him.
“Stand up.”
“What did I do?” he asked as he stood up, searching for any way he might have hurt or offended her.
She snapped her fingers and pointed right at his face. “That’s it, right there. What are you apologising for?”
Most of Keitaro’s blood had been diverted south. He stared dumbly.
She pointed at his dick. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Well, answer me.”
“Yes.”
She crossed her arms. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t do anything about it.”
Amalla scoffed, grabbed his hand and brought it flush against her soaking pussy. “Feel that? How did I get that way?”
Despite everything, Keitaro felt his cheeks grow warm at the question. “Well, I used my…you know.”
“Yes, but how did you know exactly what to do?”
He shrugged. “Because you told me.”
“Exactly. So now do you understand?”
He thought for a moment. “When it started bothering me, I should have mentioned it.”
“No, genius,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You should have told me what you wanted me to do. If all you do is give, all I’ll do is take, and you’ll never get anything, understand?”
Keitaro scratched his head. “I think so.”
“Then tell me what you want.” Amalla let out a groan. “Haven’t you ever taken the lead before?”
Keitaro shook his head. Every time, it had always been Naru or Kitsune who had been in control. He let out a yelp when Amalla spun him around and tripped him so that he fell back onto the stool. She sat on his chest and grabbed his cock, treating it to the lightest of touches. Up and down, she ran teasing fingers over his shaft and head; enough to stoke the burning, but not enough to do anything about it. Keitaro let out a whimper.
“This is just so fun,” Amalla told him over her shoulder. “I think I’ll keep it up. I wonder how many hours it’ll take before I’m bored.”
At the word ‘hours’, Keitaro moaned in protest, close to tears of frustration. He bucked his hips, but she just dropped her hands to her side with a sadistic giggle. He tried to push her off of him, but she was too strong.
“Something you wanted?” Amalla asked with a vicious grin. “What was that? I didn’t catch that.”
Keitaro keened. “I said ‘harder’! For God’s sake, no more teasing.”
“Your wish is my command.” Amalla licked her palms and gripped his cock tightly. She jerked his shaft with one hand while she teased the head with the other. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” she asked. She climbed off his chest without interrupting her rhythm, and knelt in front of him. “Anything else you wanted while I’m down here?”
Keitaro’s need did battle with his natural shyness. Seeing her kneeling before him with a smile, her hands providing the most exquisite pleasure, and her head so close that he could feel her breath against his cock decimated his inhibitions.
“Your mouth. I want you mouth.”
Amalla cocked her head and made a thoughtful noise. Then the sadistic grin was back. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Keitaro screamed as he dropped his head against the stool. Was he in Hell?
“See what I did there?” Her instructor’s voice was back. “You told me what you wanted, I told you what I wanted, and we adapt to each other. We become compatible.”
“But you didn’t…”
“Of course not, Four-eyes. Worshippers kneel before the Goddess. She does not kneel before them. But…” She pulled him by his wrist until he was sitting up, and then pushed him off the stool. She climbed onto it on all fours and looked behind her with a wiggle of her ass. “There are other ways to tell someone what you want.”
Keitaro was behind her in an instant. He gripped his manhood and poised it at her entrance, his head brushing up against her lips.
“Ready?” he asked.
Amalla snorted. “Get over yourself, little man, and get on with – Ah!”
She cried out as he thrust hard and plunged right into her. As he bottomed out and his hips slapped against her ass, he felt her walls clutch at him as if trying to draw him further in. She screamed as her head collapsed against her arms, her body shook with little tremors. When she turned back to him, he felt a primal joy at seeing her scholarly façade collapse as she stared at him with cloudy eyes and open mouth.
“More.”
He withdrew halfway and then thrust back, over and over. It felt incredible, even better than it ever had. Was it the liquor, or was it her? She yelped with each new intrusion and thrust back to meet him.
“Come on, Four-eyes, fuck me.”
She was still taunting him even after he’d worked her over so much that she’d come the moment he was inside her. He ground his teeth, and reached around to pinch her clit. Her pussy clamped around his cock so hard he could hardly move. She looked back at him with a wanton glassy-eyed expression, and it was all over. He thrust in one last time and erupted inside her. He doubled over at his climax and lay on top of her back as his come filled her. When it was over he rolled over and they laid together for untold minutes as their respective panting played counterpoint to each other.
Amalla sat up and nudged him. “Get up.”
“Hmm?”
“We’re not done yet, get moving.”
Keitaro worked through his pleasant and fatiguing haze to look at her in confusion.
“The name of the lesson is ‘How to Satisfy a Goddess’, and I for one am not satisfied. So, up.”
Keitaro pushed himself upright to give her a look of disbelief, but followed her as she approached the bar and grabbed the decanter from last time.
“I think I might need a few minutes.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, pouring a thimble’s amount into their glasses this time. “You won’t need it after you have this. Now drink up and follow me.” She drank the shot in one gulp and waltzed down the hallway. Keitaro swallowed his drink, and followed her with the bottle in tow. The moment the liquor flowed down to his stomach, that same dizzying warmth returned. He felt as if new energy were being poured into him as his manhood rose and hardened with new vigour. He heard the rattling sound of a shower being turned on, and followed it. He stepped through an open door way into a bathroom that looked to be made entirely polished white marble. Every surface and ornate fixture gleamed. Amalla stood on the other side with her back to him, her hand under the shower spray checking the temperature.
The moment he laid eyes on her voluptuous form, something in him howled for her. He leapt forward and pulled her flush against him from behind. He buried his nose into her hair and took a deep breath, savouring her scent. She leaned into him and he looked up to see them standing together in the mirror. It was almost like looking at a picture of someone else. For surely that could not be him with that feverish look in his eyes or his arms wrapped tight around her stomach with his hands splayed out in unmistakable possession. Was it really he that Amalla was looking at with those sex-fogged avaricious eyes; his touch her kiss swollen lips, rock hard nipples, and dripping snatch were calling for?
Amalla gave a needy groan, stepped out of his arms and under the shower spray. She let the water cascade through her hair and over her body until she was slick from head to toe. She looked over at him. She needed no words at this point, but she said them anyway.
“I want you here.”
Then he was under the spray with her, against her. She laughed in her throat as he attacked her breasts.
“See, isn’t this much better than waiting for her to remember you?”
It certainly was. Keitaro kissed and suckled her nipple while massaged the other breast. There had been no time last time to give her sumptuous bosom the attention it deserved, so he was anxious to make up for it. As before, Amalla flowed with a steady stream of instructions on the finer points of breast worship; but now there was no pretence of scholarly detachment.
“Just like that, little man. Don’t forget the other one. Come on, you can do it harder than that.”
When he dropped one of his hands, she actually whined; but instead of returning it, he grabbed one of her hands and pulled it down to touch his cock. He returned his hand to her aching breast, and she began to rub up and down in erratic strokes.
“You’re quite the student, Four-eyes. Hey, why are you stopping?”
The fire within filled him with boldness as he pulled away. “My name is Keitaro. Use it or I stop.”
To his surprise, Amalla laughed and began to clap. “We may make a man out of you yet, Four…Keitaro.” She clutched him to her. “Ready for more?”
“In here?” Keitaro wondered.
The shower was certainly large, but still. Just as he was trying to figure it out, however, she reached up to grab the rim of the shower wall. Her biceps flexed as she hoisted herself up off the floor without a hint of strain, and wrapped her legs around his waist.
She laughed at the awe on his face. “Bet you never met a girl who could do this.”
If Keitaro had been surprised before, he was positively amazed when, without lowering herself, she dropped one hand down to guide his cock inside her. She shut her eyes with a happy moan, and then gave him a heated look as she pulled herself up by her arms until he began to slide out of her and then lowered herself back down again. She licked her lips, and laughed before tightening her legs until he was flush against her.
Keitaro took up the call and thrust wildly as he claimed her lips with a scorching kiss. She grunted against his mouth, punctuating each hard thrust. The room grew thick with steam and Keitaro realised that he’d gotten so carried away that his glasses were still on his face. Forget it. He was too far gone for that. Everything had lost meaning, save for the woman impaled upon him.
“Give it to me!” she cried, “Give it to me!”
He did, and she let out a glorious sound somewhere between a laugh and sob as his come shot deep into her waiting womb. He nearly slipped as she dropped her legs to the floor and collapsed against him. Little sobs issued from her nose as she bit down into his shoulder. Keitaro yelped and fired off a last intense burst. Then, they leaned together against the shower wall. A few seconds later, Amalla let him go and turned the shower off. She stepped out of the shower and tossed him a towel.
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tug-of-War