Just Like a Dream

Mousse

Mousse held the female Ranma up against a tree while they made love, only his voluminous robe and the distance from their nearest neighbours hid what they were doing from view. The petit redhead in his arms moaned into his shoulder to stifle her mews of pleasure when she wasn’t using his lips for that. Mousse held her easily and gently by her full buttocks as he moved slowly and deeply inside her. Fearing that frantic movement would call attention to their rather taboo sex as fireworks danced above their head’s, reflected in his beloved’s vivid blue eyes and shiny flame bright hair. He grinned at her, amused at the folly that neither could wait for a better time.

Mousse wouldn’t have thought a red sundress the best choice for a natural redhead, yet it looked adorable on her petit, curvy body; too adorable perhaps given their present situation. Ranma’s toned legs were wrapped around Mousse’s waist; they’d tried to do it standing up, but only achieved hilarious results with their height differences. So Mousse had simply picked her and slid into her, the front of her dress and his robe lifted out of the way for convenience. Mousse stifled his own moans, Ranma was so wet and so tight that he wanted it to last as long as possible despite the clandestine nature of their love making. She felt exquisite and he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. Any hole on Ranma’s body felt divinely perfect to Mousse

Behind them lay the remnants of a picnic that they’d eaten together and at her feet were her discarded black lace panties. It was the evening of the cherry blossom festival and they’d gone to celebrate it, only to get ‘carried away’. Ranma’s fault, she’d pulled off her panties and dared him to eat here right there in the park, a suggestion that he’d happily complied with. The scent of the blossoms filled his nostrils just as much as the scent of Ranma’s arousal, the rough bark must have been rubbing against her back as she came for the third time, but Ranma didn’t seem to care. Her pulsating walls drove Mousse over the edge and both final cries of pleasure were drowned out by the final crescendo of the fireworks, as if to provide a physical manifest of their own pinnacle. The sweating, but beatific boy lowered the small girl to the ground and shielded her with his body while she gigglingly wiggled back into her panties. Casting her a conspiratory look, he helped her pack up the picnic and held her hand as he walked her home.

Mousse sat bolt upright in bed and quickly checked to see if he had had another wet dream, he was relieved to find himself merely swollen and throbbing. With a sigh he pulled out the lube and tissues that he’d been forced to buy to ‘take care of himself.’ He could hardly walk around sporting a hardon in an apartment owned by two women, both of whom were superior to him.

He applied a layer of lube to his erection, shuddering slightly at the coldness and then fisted cock and rubbed it with long slow strokes, each one ending with a slight caress to the sensitive part under his head. To stimulated himself, he filled his head full of visions of a naked Shampoo begging him to make love to her, he added soft music and how her moans would sound while he moved in her. Nothing. His traitorous mind then supplied how Ranma had looked in his latest dream, when she’d came with the force of the gale winds on his cock. Mousse just managed to stifle his final groan when he came in a torrent into the tissues he held at the ready for that purpose. He was disgusted with himself. He, who almost never touched himself, had started relieving himself nightly in order to avoid the wet dreams he’d started having because of his ‘Ranma’ dreams.

These occurred nightly and sometimes they featured the male Ranma and sometimes the female Ranma. Either way, they ended with them making love. As a male, sometimes Ranma was the pitcher and Mousse the catcher and vice versa. Mousse had thrown up the first time that he’d woken up after dreaming about Ranma’s cock spearing him and at the odd pleasure that he’d experienced while the shorter boy had rode him to completion. Relentless pleasure was a reoccurring theme with these dreams; he could feel everything acutely and swore he could still taste her/his juices on his lips when he awoke to his sexless reality. Their relationship had even blossomed over the course of the dreams. The male Ranma loved to spar with Mousse and got incredibly turned on afterwards; they would often end up making love hell bent for leather on a rooftop. The female Ranma brought out Mousse’s more tender side, he loved to hold her in his lap and kiss her softly before they made love. This confused Mousse, the female Ranma was just as deadly as the male Ranma and he didn’t like sparring against either one of them. Yet, he loved them in different ways nightly. According to the latest dream, he was going on dates with the female one. In dreams he’d taken the virginity of both. The male Ranma had been a virgin when they first made love. With the female Ranma, he wasn’t sure who’d been more shocked when he his first thrust had elicited a cry of pain from her, when he’d tore her maidenhead asunder; neither even suspected she’d one.

Although it was an hour before he normally rose, Mousse decided to get up rather then risk another dream featuring the male Ranma this time. He quickly dressed. As he painstakingly brushed out his long, straight black hair, he contemplated his dreams. They made little sense. In his dreams he was a red-hot bisexual lover to both sides of the same person, yet in reality he lived as little more than a monk; his first kiss and virginity consecrated for Shampoo on their wedding night. He had had some offers before while he was in the Chinese circus; carnie people not being too picky about their choice of lovers and there had been a slight fascination with his man-into-duck thing. All of these had been turned down in honour of his pledge. Why was he having these dreams about Ranma of all people and not Shampoo? He wasn’t attracted to Ranma anymore then he was other male; he was just an annoyance that barred Mousse’s path to his true love. An annoyance meant to be crushed, not lusted for. The female type Ranma, he had to admit was cute, but was practically a midget by Amazon standards. She would have earned him nothing but ridicule from the other males if he had he chosen her for wife; if her tremendous fighting skills hadn’t been known that is. Women were the protectors of their families, not the males and a runt of the litter like Ranma would have been chosen only out of pity by a lesser male who was desperate for a wife. He supposed both Ranmas to be attractive with their matching features and that they were fine examines of sexual beauty, but neither were what Mousse had ever desired! He loved and wanted Shampoo!

Ranma

Ranma could feel the rough bark through the fabric of her dress and the silk of Mousse’s robe brushing her thighs and blushed at what they were doing. She bit her lip when Mousse’s cock brushed a particularly pleasurable place inside her and stifled a gasp. His strong hands supported her bottom and made her feel almost like a real girl for once; tiny and protected. His own breathing hitched when she reached her final climax and he crushed his lips to hers as he flooded her interior with his white hot cum. She clung to him throughout the flood, the aftershocks of her orgasm causing her toes to curl. He gallantly stood in front of her while she made herself decent and helped her clean up after their picnic. He insisted on carrying the basket and held her hand with his free one. That was a thing that she loved about Mousse; he knew exactly what she was, but encouraged her to explore her feminine side. Ranma was so used to people telling her to act like a man that it was refreshing to have someone who thought nothing of it when she wanted to wear a pretty dress or hold hands in public with her boyfriend. He treated both side of Ranma like they were someone precious to him.

Ranma woke up, he expected to find himself a euphoric kiss swollen female and was relieved to find himself a male. Even if it was one as hard as a rock, he sighed and went to relieve himself, remembering to take the air freshener with him. He’d learned this trick when Akane had asked why the washroom smelled like almonds every morning. All the males have looked at Ranma and he’d gone as red as a poppy.

He closed his eyes and pictured Akane’s lips wrapped around him while he stroked himself. Akane naked kneeling on the floor while her dainty hand fisted the part that she couldn’t take into her mouth. Ranma moaned silently as he pictured her warm moist mouth puckered around his heavy cock while he slid into her throat and back out again. He pictured Akane’s long black hair flowing to her waist, her green eyes staring up at him because she liked to watch him while she pleasured him. Akane’s tightly rounded bottom peeking enticingly under her hairline, begging to be bent over and filled by his cock. Ranma got to the last part and shot silently into the handful of tissues he held. His eyes snapped open when he realized that Mousse was getting him off even when he was awake. With a silent moan of frustration, Ranma sprayed the bathroom and went back to bed wondering why a guy with so many fiancées was having wet dreams about a geeky Chinese guy.

Ranma and Mousse

“Hiya, Airen come to visit Shampoo” Shampoo called happily. Normally this announcement would send Mousse into a rage that called for Ranma’s blood, but this time it just made him blush madly. Not particularly wanting to see the bizarre object his dreams, Mousse opted to sneak out the back way and return after his visit was concluded. He exited through the little-used backdoor of the Nekohanten, only to run into Ranma in the alleyway!

Both boys blushed beet red to see the other and stared in panic. “What are you doing here, Ranma?” Mousse asked in a startled voice.

Ranma could only gape at Mousse; he wasn’t wearing his glasses, so he looked almost ethereally beautiful. Ranma knew what those full lips would taste like. He knew the sound Mousse made when Ranma nibbled the sensitive areas of his neck. He knew that one of his favourite things to do was to make love all day long on rainy days. He knew that he liked to trim the wild silk of his pubic hair. He knew that the scar on his left foot came from an accident when trying to spear fish in an attempt to impress Shampoo. He also knew that his favourite flavour was mango. He also knew that he wore a special aftershave that his mother distilled; it had a subtle sandalwood scent that Shampoo had once said smelled nice. He knew all these things from some dreams, yet he knew nothing about Mousse the man.

Mousse was struggling with the same thoughts while he waited for Ranma to talk. The male Ranma had slate blue eyes while the female had bright blue. They both liked bad jokes and were bottomless pits. Red was their favourite colour. Both of them cried out and clutched their lover when they came and that the female could rival Niagara Falls for wetness! That they were quick to temper and just as quick to forgive and had a streak of kindness a mile wide. That as martial artists they were unbeatable, but had trouble dealing with their softer emotions and disguised this fact with swagger and bravado.

Ranma realized that he was staring at Mousse and quickly yanked himself back to reality. “I’m-I have to talk to the old ghoul and I thought I’d look for her in the kitchen before I have to deal with Shampoo’s glomping onto me” he said, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “Where are you going Mousse?” he asked in a softer voice.

Mousse practically collapsed at the tone that he recognized as belonging to his male lover when he felt insecure and needed reassurance. His first impulse was to hug the other boy, but didn’t feel like being sent into the stratosphere via Ranma’s fist. “C-chores to run” he stammered.

“You mean that you aren’t even going to try to stop me from hanging out with Shampoo?” Ranma asked, cursing his dream for him being a little disappointed about this.

“N-no have fun, enjoy” Mousse said and darted away with his face flaming, hoping never see the other martial artist again. Knowing full well he would be seeing him that night in his dream.

Ranma wondered about Mousse’s odd reaction to him, it had seemed just as awkward as his own. Just then a purple blur glomped onto him.

“What Airen do in alleyway? Did you see where stupid duck boy go? He take break without us say yes” she explained.

“Don’t call him that!” Ranma snapped and then blushed at her startled expression.