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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
It was Saturday night, and Kitsune was starting it with a bang. The Hinata House vixen lay upon her futon, luxuriating in the feel of her favourite silk bathrobe as she ran her hands over her baby smooth skin. She had, at the start, been attending to her grooming needs after a nice long soak in the hot spring. After waxing her legs, Kitsune had turned her attention to what lay in between. In her time, Kitsune had known her share of girls whose only beliefs about pubic hair was that it was something to be removed, obliterated, never to be seen on this earth. Kitsune took a more moderate view, having met plenty of lovers who could appreciate a well kept bed of curls just as much as a snatch that had been waxed clean.
That did not mean, however, that she allowed herself to get sloppy. On the contrary, Kitsune paid special attention to maintaining the shape of her triangular thatch – especially now that she had a man at home. After a careful wax and trim, she decided that such steadfast devotion deserved a treat. Self pleasure was a regular indulgence of Kitsune’s – especially since Motoko’s arrival. On occasion, however, she liked to go beyond a simple rubbing out; to set the mood, prime her body with dozens of little caresses and pinches in places discovered over years of practice, to coax and work herself over until her skin positively tingled; and then, only when she was at her absolute peak – when she was panting, her pussy dripping and her clit aching in anticipation – did she move forward, rubbing herself to a wall-shattering orgasm that left her paralysed with pleasure as stars danced before her eyes and she coasted on a plane of sexual bliss that bordered upon the spiritual.
She began by running her fingers up over the curves of her hips, the planes of her stomach and ribs, and up the swell of her breasts to ever so lightly tease her nipples before moving back down to begin again and again. As she felt the beginning tingles start to ripple over her skin, she replaced her fingers with her palms, giving herself a fuller caress as she closed her eyes and imagined they were Keitaro’s hands upon her, Keitaro’s fingers pinching her nipples and journeying down to stop just achingly short of her poor neglected pussy.
“More,” she implored, and provided. She grasped one of her breasts and lifted the nipple to tease it with her tongue. Then she kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples, revelling in the jolts of pleasure as her stomach leapt and twisted itself in knots, and her pussy begged for some friction.
On evenings such as these Kitsune needed such bliss, when her prey was so near and yet so far, and it seemed her best friend and even providence itself had betrayed her. When he had melted into her arms that first morning at breakfast, Kitsune was sure that she had taken the first place position, but then Naru had come out of nowhere and exploited the fact that she went to the same cram school.
She hissed as she twisted her nipple a little too hard.
Not only was Naru hogging their manager to herself during the day, but she was keeping him away out of Kitsune’s reach at night too with their late night study sessions (and they were studying, unless Naru had gotten a lot quieter at the climax). Kitsune seethed as she thought of Naru and her little plan. It had made perfect sense at the time: make friends with Keitaro, flirt with him, tease him, and act like any girlfriend would; but be subtle, Naru maintained. If they wanted him to accept the situation, they would be affectionate, they would make no reference to the other’s actions, and above all no sex. Sex, Naru was certain, would be more than Keitaro would be able to stand without his guilt overwhelming him. The logic hadn’t been quite there for Kitsune, but she’d agreed in the hopes that it would keep Keitaro from freaking out and leaving. Of course, that was before she realized that part of Naru’s bid to make Keitaro her lover seemed to be cutting her out entirely.
Then fate had thrown an even more challenging obstacle in her path. To make matters worse, the obstacle was of just such a nature that Kitsune couldn’t bring herself to be mad at her no matter how hard she tried. After all, Shinobu Maehara was too cute to hate. Getting angry at her would be like kicking a puppy. Shinobu was the kind of girl that exuded a sweet sort of helplessness that anyone with a heart and soul longed to protect. Keitaro, bumbling white knight that he was, had gravitated towards the troubled girl immediately; and before anyone knew what was happening Shinobu Maehara had become Hinata’s latest resident and chef.
This in itself wouldn’t have been a problem if Shinobu didn’t insist upon following Keitaro around like some love-struck puppy. It was hard enough for Kitsune to get alone time with Keitaro without having to compete against a cute little sister type. But Kitsune couldn’t blame her for it. It wasn’t Shinobu’s fault that her parents’ marriage was in ruins or that her first crush was Keitaro. Besides, every time Kitsune felt petty enough to try and blame Shinobu for her enforced chastity, she’d lay eyes on the girl and become overwhelmed by the urge to hug her.
So Kitsune was left with no other alternative but to rise above the situation and capture Keitaro’s attention through her own means.
She abandoned her nipples, ready at last for the main event. She stood on wobbly legs and hobbled over to her stereo. She turned on some loud music. Some moments weren’t meant to be shared. She swayed back and forth to the heavy beat as the hard steady pulse travelled through her. How she longed to dance. She’d always loved dancing ever since she was a little girl. Did Keitaro like to dance? Probably not. He struck her as the type of guy who was terrified of doing anything rhythmic, but maybe he could watch…Kitsune weakened in her resolve and brushed her clit with her finger as she thought of Keitaro watching her every move as she swayed and gyrated. The more she thought of it, the more she longed for it: to put all of herself on display before him and watch the adoration on his face as he drank in every swivel of her hips.
“Some day soon,” she swore as she sashayed over to her closet, “I will dance for you, Keitaro Urashima.”
She opened the closet door and reached for the top shelf where she kept her prized possessions. She pushed aside the expensive sake bottles and stood on tiptoe to reach all the way back until she laid hands upon a wooden box and pulled it down. The box had once contained a scotch bottle someone had gotten her as a gift, but now she used it to store away other epicurean delights. She slid off the cover and removed the toy that had kept her company on many a cold and lonely night. She ran a loving hand over the long red shaft as she sat back on her futon with a shudder of anticipation.
She ran the tip up over her stomach and through the valley of her breasts before sticking it in her mouth. She was wet enough to take all of it in one go, but the cold plastic wanted warming. As she thrust the dildo into her mouth, she pictured first boy she’d ever given head. He’d been one year ahead of her in high school, a striker on the school soccer team. Whenever, she’d watched him play she’d felt weak in the knees; but when she had ran her tongue over his shaft for the first time in that equipment shed, he’d been the one weak in the knees and she’d learned first hand the power she could hold. A virgin – as she had been at the time – he hadn’t lasted long, and she’d gagged on the taste of him when he failed to warn her; but through the years, she’d never forgotten the thrill of control she’d felt the first time she’d looked into his eyes to see him begging her to continue.
Kitsune took the toy out of her mouth and licked the shaft from end to end. In her mind, the striker’s face morphed into Keitaro and she was transported away from the dingy equipment shed and onto a luxurious bed of silk as her lover stood by waiting to please her. Eyes still closed, Kitsune poised the thick red shaft at her dripping entrance, and saw Keitaro standing between her waiting legs, a question in his eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered, and thrust the dildo past the half-hearted resistance of her labia. At the intrusion, Kitsune’s hips leapt off the bed and she felt herself clench around the shaft as she drove it further inside. As soon as she bottomed out, she pulled until only the tip remained inside and then plunged it back inside, crying out at the pleasure.
“Give it to me,” she whispered. “I need it.”
Her hips were moving on their own now as her thrusts became harsher, almost painful. In her mind Keitaro was clinging to her as he fucked her with everything he had. Naru’s blue balling had finally made him snap. Kitsune was grateful for the loud music as the moans she had been suppressing escaped her lips.
“That’s right, Baby. Kitsune always gives you what you need.”
It wasn’t enough though. Deciding something different was in order, she sat up, got to her knees, and reached around to thrust the dildo in from behind, relishing the deliciously slutty feeling that filled her as she fucked herself with animalistic abandon, imagining Keitaro’s cock ramming into her pussy, his hips slapping hard against her ass. The toy struck her g-spot and she let out a loud moan.
“Fuck me,” she groaned into the futon. “Fuck your naughty girl.”
Her free hand came up to rub her clit. One more hard thrust and she came with a squeal. She lay stomach down on the futon, trying to hold onto the delicious waves and tremors of pleasure as they sapped her strength and left her a gasping mess; but all too soon the pleasure faded, as it always did when she lay alone.
She lay still trying to conjure up the memory of the feeling; and when that didn’t work, she pulled the toy out and, after cleaning it, returned it to its box. With any luck, after tonight, she wouldn’t need it for a long time. She sat down at her vanity, brushed out her hair, and applied just enough makeup to enhance her eyes. She set down the crimson lipstick and gave the mirror a pout before returning to the closet for the navy dress she selected earlier – the one with the plunging back and the strap that tied around the neck. She slipped it on and took one last look in the mirror.
Between Naru and her studying, and Shinobu’s arrival, Kitsune had gone without for a week, and she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. Not when there was a red blooded man with backed up balls just down the hall. She looked at the desk clock and saw that it was just coming on seven. It was Naru’s night to do the dishes, Su was playing with Shinobu on the roof, and that left Keitaro all alone in his room studying as usual – that was if he wasn’t trying to sort through all the mixed signals he was getting. Well, Kitsune declared to herself, tonight there would be no more of either. Tonight was going to be date night if she had to drag him. They were going to go out, they were going to drink, they were going to have fun, and then she was going to make sure that blue balls were the least of his concerns.
Naru’s warnings flashed through her mind, and she scoffed. No sex? Fuck that! If Kitsune had had her way, he’d have come so many times he wouldn’t be able to speak much less feel guilty. If Naru was prepared to settle for studying and petting sessions, fine for her; but the Fox had her manager’s scent and she would not be denied her prey, guilt or no guilt.
As a finishing touch, Kitsune sprayed herself with a spritz of her favourite mankiller perfume and strutted out the door.
‘Better watch out Keitaro Urashima. I’m coming for you. And when I do, you’ll be coming for me all night.’
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Tug-of-War