CITRUS GROVE
by SAGE, written in 2002
Disclaimer:
Rurouni Kenshin© is the exclusive property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and associated
parties. The characters and/or story concept are used unofficially as an
expression of fan appreciation for the non-profit purpose of entertainment
only
and do not necessarily represent the viewpoint or opinions of the above listed
entities. Original portions of this story are the copyright of the author.
This
is a fictional story and any similarity with person(s) living or dead is
entirely coincidental.
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L-E-M-O-N: sexual content/blatant erotica. (Just in case you missed the summary)
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Seeds of Seduction
Citrus Grove Condominiums
He had seen her riding on the elevator, and sometimes in the underground
parking
garage. They lived next door to each other in the same condo for over a year.
She was the quintessential librarian; pressed tweeds, spectacles, and 100%
sexually repressed. Now she was standing in front of his door.
“Oh, Detective Saitou!” She was startled; he’d answered the door so suddenly.
He
was forever surprising her, appearing when she least expected him. “I wanted
to
make sure you knew about the home owner’s association meeting this Tuesday
evening at 7. You should have received a notice about it in your mailbox.”
She
knew he did because she stuck it in there herself.
Hands in his front jean pockets he leaned up against the doorjamb. “And…”
Tokio thought he could be just about the rudest man, and she wondered briefly
if
he owned nothing but black t-shirts, tight black t-shirts and black sweat
pants,
which clung low on his hips, slim taunt hips. She licked her dry lips and
then
got a hold of herself. What was she thinking? Oh yes, she didn’t think she
had
ever seen him in anything else but black, except once in his formal police
uniform, and come to think of it he must have white t-shirts for that; her
gaze
retraced the muscular outline of his chest, maybe. Trying to take her thoughts
off of his well defined chest she said, “Well, you didn’t RSVP so I didn’t
know
if you were planning on attending.” She sounded mildly annoyed. Uptight and
annoyed, he thought.
He had once pondered if she was frigid. He had seen her come home from a
few
dates and it was a handshake at the door, but the last few times they had
ridden
in the elevator together he had slouched against the wall and pretended to
rest
with his eyes closed. He would catch her watching him. It started a train
of
thought he couldn’t derail. “And just where is this meeting supposed to be
held?” he said in a bored tone of voice he was far from feeling. He wondered
what she looked like with her hair down and something that didn’t button
up to
her chin.
“It will be in my apartment this time, and I’d like to have an accurate idea
of
how many people are planning to attend…so that I can have enough chairs and
refreshments.” He had a marvelously strong but slender build, and so tall,
but
it was those hooded golden-amber eyes, bedroom eyes her girlfriends would
say,
that made him seem like a dangerous man; dangerous to a woman’s peace of
mind at
least.
He straightened up and stepped right next to her side. She inhaled sharply,
and
her midnight eyes went wide behind her glasses. She went to move back but
his
hand was circling the small of her back, stilling her, “Don’t move.” His
voice
was a low rumbled purr in her ear.
“Wha…What is it?” she squeaked. “Is it a spider?” She didn’t know what was
more
disconcerting, the idea of a bug on her shoulder or this…this… male with
his
hands on her body.
“No, hush.” He leaned down to her shoulder, so close that she could feel
the
passing of his soft warm breath on her neck. Her head tilted to the side
involuntarily, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. His hand on her
back
felt hot and she could feel his thumb moving, stroking, against her ever
so
slowly.
After quite a few seconds he picked something from her shoulder and stood
back,
“Just lint.” He said, as if he hadn’t just caused her heartbeat to increase
by a
factor of five…for multiple reasons!
His suddenly release left her adrift and in something of a shock. “Just lint!
You… you had me thinking there was some big hairy spider on me or something!”
she snapped. She was pissed, and she looked kind of cute pissed.
“I told you it wasn’t.” His voice was velvety deep and that damn smirk of
his
was in full play. “Don’t you ever listen to anybody?”
Tokio tried to think of something blazingly scathing to say but she couldn’t
think of anything suitable, and everything she could think of she was too
much
of a lady to express. She finally settled on a tightly uttered, “Will you
be
there or not?”
“Well,” he said leaning back against the door frame again, “since you want
me so
bad,” he paused, allowing himself a full length gaze, “to attend that is,
I’ll
be there.” He gave her a knowing look, confident in the effect he’d had on
her.
She didn’t trust her self to speak; she just turned around and walked back
to
her apartment.
Saitou remained against the door frame and watched her walk away. Even in
tweed
she had the sweetest ass. She disappeared into her apartment, and he looked
down. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t wear just sweatpants Tuesday night.
He walked back into his apartment, sat down on the couch and lit a cigarette.
Pulling up the corner of his t-shirt with one hand, he pulled the drawstring
on
his sweatpants with the other, and pulled out his throbbing hard cock.
He gave it a few complete strokes from root to tip, letting his palm graze
the
over the top each time, feeling just a drop of moisture there. He closed
his
eyes and imagined the little librarian in front of him, bent over with her
beautiful firm ass tilted up, begging him. He imagined slowly pulling up
that
damn severe tweed skirt to her waist. As proof of the passionate nature that
she
hid from the rest of the world she would only be wearing thigh high stockings
and a silky little garter belt beneath. He saw his hand feel up the inside
of
her thigh, past the top of her stockings, to cup her fully in his palm. “Please”
she whimpered, thrusting back against his hand. She was wet, so wet….
Hajime open his eyes. He took a deep drag off his cigarette, inhaling deeply
then blowing out the smoke. It felt good too. He crushed the cigarette out
in an
ashtray next to him and tucked his erection back into his pants.
He savored the feeling of something exerting a force on his body and of
maintaining control through strict self-discipline. The need for the cigarette
and the need for sexual satisfaction slowly ebbed; his fantasy for the sweet
little librarian taking a lot longer to quell than the need for nicotine.
Now
wasn’t that interesting.
“Oh yes,” narrow amber eyes practically glowed in the dim light of the room,
“Tuesday night should be very interesting indeed.”
(TBC)
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The Guilty Party (author notes):
Citrus Grove <snort>. Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.
I’ve been writing a different story that is much more serious and kept coming
up
with images that didn’t go with the story. I’m considering this a ritualistic
purging ;)
The story even has a plot if I get around to it… <ROTF> as if you cared!
This is my first lemon. CC is greatly appreciated (on either creative content
or
technical aspects); all flames will be used to light the cigarette I’m in
desperate need of at the moment (and I don’t even smoke).
Damn, but that character is deliciously wicked. “He’s not bad, he’s just
drawn
that way”.
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