Big Blue
Posted: Tue May 19, 2009 6:34 am
I just felt like writing a fanfic with Bikko in it.
==========================
Pathetic.
The day of the festival and nothing to do. Well, plenty to do actually, just no will to take part.
I feel nothing but drained on this day of bustling festivities. Exhausted with the effort of trying to connect to a place that feels alien. I truly still believe that I’m only a visitor to this world of abstract limbs and broken bodies.
Broken bodies. Isn’t that where I fit in? I wish it were easier to feel that way, I wish it were easier to not look down on those around me and not envision them the way they appeared on Rin’s wall.
So vividly ghastly. So different from me.
It’s cruel, I know. I’m too cruel but what else can I feel when I’ve systematically failed to connect with anyone here so far?
It’s not you, Yamaku, it’s me. Our relationship is over before it really began. I hope I didn’t break your heart. Take heart in the fact that you could not break mine.
These thoughts in mind I decided to exit the festival grounds still so early in the day, untried.
Yet, as I tried to leave, something caught my eye. Nothing really. Nothing more than smoke in the air, literally. Above ground level, above the mural and a little further down the stone overlook white smoke could be seen rising.
A stall? No, no reason for one to be up there, out of the way, and besides, it would have to be awfully stout.
It’s too difficult to see what it is from here. Why not take a look? As if I have any major plans today.
Smoke. I mean, smoking. A girl, smoking. Unbelievable.
You know, this is the first time I’ve seen a cigarette since I came here. Now that I think about it. Not that I really missed them or smoked myself. And now, here, I find a young girl, of all people, unmolested as she sits back in a wheelchair, puffing away leisurely.
I can’t help but look around before I approach, feeling that I might be walking in on something criminal. But no, no one seems concerned at all. Students, teachers and nursing staff are more concerned with the day’s events than what might be happening up here, relatively out of the way.
She has white hair; I wasn’t sure at first what with large streak of black facing me. It must be dyed but how the hell did she get away with it? Didn’t anyone object or was this just a privilege for a special someone? Another bent rule?
Somewhat less remarkable was the fact that she was in a wheelchair at all. They were pretty uncommon at Yamaku despite the nature of the place. Most of the students with mobility issues either had expensive prosthetics or preferred to walk in pain rather than be subjected to a wheelchair.
One shoe lay discarded on the ground, its foot rested up on the stone railing, sock to the wind. Only one sock.
I’ve got it; she must be a terminal case of some kind. Too disabled to walk too crippled to care about the state of her lungs, waiting for death. With her eyes closed I might have thought her dead already if it weren’t for the innocent looking cloud of smoke she exhaled while basking in the sun.
It was obvious now. Though this white haired girl wore the standard uniform I could tell that she was thin, malnourished even. A sleigh body and not unreasonable face but I could only see it from the side, she was maybe sixteen years old, I guessed.
“You’re blocking my sun.”
My God, no girl her age should have a voice that husky.
“Err, sorry.”
Damn, she caught me off caught and now I sound like a prat. I wasn’t even close to blocking her sun at all.
“What’s up? Did you come here to tell me to stop smoking or what?”
“I wasn’t going to do that.”
“Oh, I get it. You want one? These are pain in the ass to get, you know. There’s only vending machine in the village and this old lady always heckles me when I go there. Only one vending machine. This is Japan for Christ’s sake.”
She deftly pulled out a crummy cigarette packet and offered me one.
“No, thanks.”
“Tch. Virgin.”
“What!?”
This girl burst into a fit that couldn’t decide whether it was energetic laughter or fatal coughing. Her voice took on a feminine tone when she spoke again, mingled in with the rust of her vocals, like the black mixed into her hair.
“Virgin lungs, obviously.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if you were a smoker you’d jump at the offer. Even the nurses bum smokes off me sometimes.”
“Don’t they care?”
“Why? Everyone has habits, ain’t going to kill me. Not anytime soon, anyway. Don’t think they care as long as I only keep to tobacco.”
What the hell? Was she bluffing? If she was she was doing a good job of not showing it, inspecting her stubby stick with mild disdain before taking another drag.
“Why are you here then?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did I come over in the first place? I shrugged.
“I don’t know, I just felt like coming over and saying something.”
Lame, Hisao.
“No, not that. What are you here for? What’s your problem?”
“Nice phrasing... I’ve got a weak body, I guess.”
“What? All of it? Which part?”
“My heart. What about you?”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
Again, I shrugged but apparently it wasn’t a rhetorical question. Cigarette extinguished she swivelled her chair around to confront me. A roguish smile on her face this one eyed girl clearly took pleasure in the look on my face.
The sight of absent limbs I’d grown used to, more or less but most cover their... raw end with something, usually a prosthetic. She covered nothing up.
Chin in palm she tugged at the skin of her upper right cheek, distorting the red keloid scar that stitched together her eyelids, drawing my attention to it.
Next she slapped her left leg. Of course I play right into her hands; I can’t help but look at the violent looking scar that crosses her stump.
But that wasn’t all. Bold girl as she was she’d drawn back the hem of her green, uniform skirt to expose leg a little too much. I could see the colour of her underwear clearly, a consequence of my eyes being slave to her hands. I watched her fingers slide down the inside of her thigh and...
Pull the skirt back over her knees.
“Tell me, sailor. What do you think is wrong with me?”
I swallowed.
“... Amputated left leg and damaged right eye.”
“You can say ‘missing’ if you like, it’s not like I’m going to believe they might come back one day if you do. But damn, you’re pretty green if this stuff can still get a reaction out of you. How long have you even been here?”
“About a week or so. This is all pretty new to me still.”
“So, what do you think of me? Do my scars make me hard to look at? Am I ugly?”
“No... You’re not... No. I don’t think you’re ugly.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
Goddamnit, what the hell is wrong with her?
Another round of hacking laughter battled its way past her voice box.
What the hell was so funny? I’m a little embarrassed, so what? Who wouldn’t be?
The question still lingered in my mind, despite my irritation. Was she pretty? Not really. She wasn’t really pretty but she was kind of cute. Blues eyes were definitely something, too bad she only had one. That killer voice sort of grew on you as well, like a broken violin, beautiful in its discord. Only one string is still in tune yet it’s worth hearing the bad notes just for that one string to play.
“You’re fun... Wait, what’s your name?”
“Hisao. Nice to meet you.”
“Bikko. Nice to meet’cha. Alright, Hisao. Push me, let’s go somewhere.”
Bikko swung her seat around and fired up another smoke.
Well, whatever. Why not?
“Fine. Where do you want to go? The festival?”
“Fuck the festival. It’s just games for children and that feel good community shit.”
What a mouth. I’m aware that we’re not exactly that far from the festival, it’s just below us but no one seems to have heard.
“I guess you didn’t make a stall then.”
“Nah, I had some ideas but they didn’t fly very well. No one’s got any sense of adventure here. ”
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“Sure?”
Bikko twisted her head back and looked up at me with that one big blue eye of hers.
“Positive. You’re pretty light, you know.”
It was true. She’s dangerously light. I feel I might break her if I crash into anything too hard.
“Must be my diet.”
“Is that why you use a wheelchair?”
“I’m in a wheelchair because I didn’t feel like standing up today.”
“But you can stand up?”
“Sure I can but it’s not like I want to do it all the time; it’s the Weekend, I can’t be bothered. Besides, I don’t need to prove I’m normal or anything. I know I’m not normal. I see some of these kids struggling with walking sticks or false legs and I just get pissed off. They should just sit the fuck down if it hurts that much. Who cares what people think about it?”
I admit it, I’m taken aback. Clearly Bikko isn’t afraid to be frank with someone she just met and I can’t believe it’s an act. But still, I want to tell her that it’s not that easy. I can see how the students here must crave some normality and it’s really not that easy to just ignore what everyone thinks about you. Try getting a job with that attitude or in a wheelchair.
“I guess. Where did you want to go, anyway?”
“Somewhere in the sun, over there somewhere.”
Bikko waved vaguely in the direction of a brush a little beyond the stalls where pockets to students picnicked in the greenery. I figured she’d want to go out a bit, a little closer to the copse than the bustle of the festival.
God, this was embarrassing. I guess I didn’t really think this through. If I had any kind of good reputation here already then I was quickly wheeling it away. More heads than I would have liked turned at the sight of smoking girl being pushed by partner in crime.
Bikko didn’t say anything, simply smoked, arms on arm rests. I noticed she has a habit of leaving the cigarette in her mouth when not talking.
Breathe in tar, breath out smoke. I wonder if she had any room for oxygen. But if Bikko told me she didn’t need to breathe I probably would have accepted it.
“Here’s good. Stop here.”
“Need a hand?”
Bikko stood up on one leg and balanced quiet well. With her skirt covering that inflamed stump of hers I could almost believe her errant limb was merely heel to buttocks.
She leapt, taking hoping strides on one foot, arms out for balance, until she tipped over and crashed into the ground joyfully.
I sat down beside her with a little more tact.
“You want something to eat?”
“Nah, no appetite.”
“Sure?”
“If you’re hungry then go get something to eat, don’t have to be so polite.”
“I don’t really feel like eating.”
“Ah, don’t want to spoil your appetite, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“You took me pretty far out here. Hitting on a girl and taking her somewhere quiet, I’d say you were planning on eating me.”
Not true. The bit about being far away. No, wait. All of it. The stalls are still within sight and rape would pretty difficult considering that there are students even closer, not that I couldn’t count on them to all be deaf as a doorknob.
Oh geez, don’t unbutton your top.
“How about it? Normally I charge but I don’t think you have the money.”
“I’m good, Bikko.”
Suddenly she was upon me. Pinning down both my arms and mounting my stomach.
I wanted to laugh, almost. It was hilarious to think she could hold me down. I wasn’t so pathetic that I couldn’t overpower a petite girl.
And yet, I didn’t.
“What’s your kink, Hisao? Want me to call you ‘big brother’? Lots of guys like that. Any hole is fine too. Blowjob, titjob, thighjob, which one do you like best? I’ll let you cum anywhere. I’ll rub you off with my stump, if you like.”
Part of me wanted to point out that she didn’t have the breasts for a titjob while the majority screamed for escape. I was trapped. Right now I couldn’t eject her if I wanted to, not really. If I went into my cave and found my power animal it would probably turn into Bikko, telling me ‘slide’. Only my power animal was on top of me, wearing cigarette fume perfume and a look of pure sadistic pleasure.
“Stop it, someone will see.”
“No one will see.”
She looked all the same, so did I. There was a little cover between us any voyeurs but nothing much. If anyone looked they would definitely see me being ridden by this devil of a girl.
Bikko ground her buttocks into my crotch as if to remind me she was there.
“Oh, wait. I guess we can’t.”
“Huh?”
“You said you had a bad heart. I’d probably kill you if we did it, right? I don’t think I want that on my criminal record.”
Why hadn’t I thought of that? Truth be told my heart was pounding like mad, nothing hurt as of yet but I wasn’t expecting a fair warning before a full blown heart attack.
Regretfully Bikko dismounted. But whose regret was it? Mine or hers?
Yes, I was hard. Painfully so. Bikko was a girl, biologically at least. It excited me to feel her small body press against mine.
“Hey! Stop it.”
Bikko clawed at my pants zipper, gleefully evading my objecting hands pushing her away.
I’m just about ready to hit her. Really hit her, even if she is a girl. This is too much. I don’t want this.
Repulsive little brat!
Ahh! Bikko fingers are warm. Tender female flesh wraps around my monument. All my resistance flees; I am conquered and to the victor go the spoils of war.
Dangerous, this is definitely dangerous.
Bikko forcefully drives down my boxers and trousers a little way down my legs. A cool breeze hits my bare ass confirming that I am indeed naked outdoors, at least partially.
“Just relax.”
Relax she tells me. I do, a little. But only a little. Her voice is soft, quiet in recognition of the sordid, secret act I am prey to.
Perhaps it would be more convincing to any onlookers if I lay down flat but I can’t do it, I prop myself up on my elbows as Bikko kisses my cock. Thrice more she kisses it, moving towards the tip. For a devil her lips certainly have a touch of the divine and the heat of her breath against my already boiling prick multiples my arousal tenfold.
Expert is her movements. Bikko’s fingers grip and slide down my shaft as her lips tip over the peak and swallow me. In one smooth movement she rids me of my helmet and takes me to the base.
I’m not ready for such an experience. Such warm slippery pleasure. Erectile dysfunction strike me down, I am not worthy.
Bikko barely stops to breath before assaulting me again. Again and again, she holds my member in her throat making small rocking motions back and forth stimulating my entire penis for a few blissful moments, never does she gag.
It’s incredibly erotic to watch her devour me time and time again with a single minded devotion to the task. Bikko looks up at me periodically with that one brilliant blue eye of hers.
For what reason I don’t know she brings down the pace, no longer does she consume me totally but works the head inside her mouth, demonstrating the agility of her small dexterous tongue that drips with ecstasy like the venom of a snake. A poison injected into my penis that dominates me completely.
My eyes wander the rest of her body spread out at a tangent to my left with her one knee coming up towards me.
Suddenly my left hand acts on its own; blindly I reach out with a primeval lust and grope the most succulent meat in the world. Round the back, between her soft inner thighs my fingers bury themselves.
I get it, if Bikko kept her initial pace I would have blow my load by this point, lost in the paradise of her flesh.
A little unexpectedly Bikko separates her legs, her one knee a pyramid to the sky leaving her other half-a-leg pointing directly towards me.
I hesitate. The angry scarring is grotesque to me.
I do something that surprises even me; I reach out and touch it. Bikko stops tracing the nerve running the back of my penis immediately, her expression however, is unreadable. One scarred eye facing me betrays no emotion she might have felt.
The acute contrast in texture is fascinating against my fingertips.
In a sudden flash of inspiration like lighting tearing through the heavens I realize that I love this red stump. It’s stupid, I know. There’s no real reason for it but I no longer find it horrific, rather I see it as an imperfection that only elevates Bikko’s charm through contrast. It is a beautiful thing in itself. But it’s difficult to muse for long with someone sucking your dick.
Only now do I notice her underwear: simple white, no string ties, no lace. I’m a tad disappointed
Sensing no sudden disapproval my not so nimble fingers do their best at stimulating her through the material.
Only damp, huh? I kind of expected her to wash me away with liquid love. Biblical style. Guess I’ve been reading too much H manga.
I quickly discover that Bikko is hairless downstairs yet waste no time on a thorough visual inspection that might be considered rude. I’m aware I need to catch up; I can feel my limit slowly being reached by the relentless workings of Bikko’s silky tongue.
Bikko makes no sound as I enter her warm wetness with my middle finger. I dare another and it moves up along next to the other well. Now she feels moderately tight around my fingers.
I really don’t have any clue what I’m doing but I figure it’s hard to go wrong as long as I don’t just jam it in and hope for the best. Gently, rhythmically I explore her broiling depths and work the textured mound of flesh towards her front. Her hips push against my hand approvingly and I use the remainder of my fingers to grope.
She can sense it too, that my pleasure is reaching its apex. No longer does she work the length, pausing for a moment she breathes hot breath on my moist instrument, a delightful contrast to the cool outdoor wind.
This sensation, it’s like nothing I’ve experienced before. My left testicle swims inside Bikko’s mouth. Masterfully she feasts on them both individually, caressing, tugging and squeezing without ever going beyond the threshold that would ruin our love making undoubtedly. All the while she does this with one hand gripping my cock, using her own saliva as lubricant as she rubs that vital nerve before the head with one creamy index finger.
That’s it. Though I’m slave to this pleasure I can still string together enough thoughts to know what’s coming.
“B-Bikko, I’m gonna...”
“Mmh”
Do it, she tells me. Let myself go inside her mouth, all over her lithe tongue.
Furiously she deep throats my weapon with unbridled speed; again and again I am plunged into the depths of her throat and victim to ecstasy.
It’s coming, I’m coming. My whole body trembles in anticipation of my flowing seed. My life, my essence boils at the base of my penis before shooting forth.
A lake flows down Bikko’s still throat, a searing lake of masculinity. But that’s not all.
Suddenly Bikko retracts and frenziedly continues to blow me at the height of my sensitivity.
I’m being milked. Bikko sucks me dry, sucks every last drop from my body reducing me to a quivering mess of spent spice.
Oh. I didn’t even notice I’d stopped my effort on her.
And now she’s up, on her rear at least, smiling at lifeless me mischievously.
“You swallowed it?”
“Yup!~ You wanted some?”
I shook my head anaemically.
“There’s still some left if you want, it kind of sticks.”
Before I could object Bikko leans over and kisses me briefly. Only after no drooling surprise enters my mouth do I realize that she only wanted a kiss.
##Fade an’ shit. Time passes to night.##
I was a little surprised earlier. The world hadn’t ended; our little act of mutual (eventually mutual) coition remained cosmically unrecognised. Not even that much time had passed.
We decided to stay together awhile. We did little other than talk and eat until into the night. It’s surprisingly difficult to feel awkward over something, around someone who is nothing but relaxed.
A little before now Bikko insisted I touch her breasts. I did but that’s really the whole story, I agreed that they felt... nice, unique, even if they weren’t very big.
“Thanks, Hisao.”
“For what?”
“You’ve saved me a lot of money. I was thinking about leaving this place most of this morning.”
“Funny. Me too.”
“Huh? No shit. Here”
Bikko handed me what was left of the cigarette. That’s another thing, she’s shown my how to smoke, I didn’t even know you needed someone to guide you. It wasn’t great, in fact it was pretty bad but not without some enjoyment. There’s something to be said for self-destruction.
“Thanks. Why did you want to leave?”
“I just feel like wallpaper here, I don’t care if that’s shallow. No one reacts to anything I said or do. Besides, I don’t really feel –”
“That you’re disabled?”
Bikko flashes me big blue, nestled in her jacket.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“I wonder if anyone else feels the same.”
And then it dawned on me. As the sky exploded in fleeting colours I realised that this conversation is not unique to us. How many times has it reoccurred since the foundation of this place? I couldn’t even guess.
When it was all over Bikko scooted over to her wheelchair and got in.
“I guess I’ll stick around for a little longer.”
Me too, Bikko.
==========================
Pathetic.
The day of the festival and nothing to do. Well, plenty to do actually, just no will to take part.
I feel nothing but drained on this day of bustling festivities. Exhausted with the effort of trying to connect to a place that feels alien. I truly still believe that I’m only a visitor to this world of abstract limbs and broken bodies.
Broken bodies. Isn’t that where I fit in? I wish it were easier to feel that way, I wish it were easier to not look down on those around me and not envision them the way they appeared on Rin’s wall.
So vividly ghastly. So different from me.
It’s cruel, I know. I’m too cruel but what else can I feel when I’ve systematically failed to connect with anyone here so far?
It’s not you, Yamaku, it’s me. Our relationship is over before it really began. I hope I didn’t break your heart. Take heart in the fact that you could not break mine.
These thoughts in mind I decided to exit the festival grounds still so early in the day, untried.
Yet, as I tried to leave, something caught my eye. Nothing really. Nothing more than smoke in the air, literally. Above ground level, above the mural and a little further down the stone overlook white smoke could be seen rising.
A stall? No, no reason for one to be up there, out of the way, and besides, it would have to be awfully stout.
It’s too difficult to see what it is from here. Why not take a look? As if I have any major plans today.
Smoke. I mean, smoking. A girl, smoking. Unbelievable.
You know, this is the first time I’ve seen a cigarette since I came here. Now that I think about it. Not that I really missed them or smoked myself. And now, here, I find a young girl, of all people, unmolested as she sits back in a wheelchair, puffing away leisurely.
I can’t help but look around before I approach, feeling that I might be walking in on something criminal. But no, no one seems concerned at all. Students, teachers and nursing staff are more concerned with the day’s events than what might be happening up here, relatively out of the way.
She has white hair; I wasn’t sure at first what with large streak of black facing me. It must be dyed but how the hell did she get away with it? Didn’t anyone object or was this just a privilege for a special someone? Another bent rule?
Somewhat less remarkable was the fact that she was in a wheelchair at all. They were pretty uncommon at Yamaku despite the nature of the place. Most of the students with mobility issues either had expensive prosthetics or preferred to walk in pain rather than be subjected to a wheelchair.
One shoe lay discarded on the ground, its foot rested up on the stone railing, sock to the wind. Only one sock.
I’ve got it; she must be a terminal case of some kind. Too disabled to walk too crippled to care about the state of her lungs, waiting for death. With her eyes closed I might have thought her dead already if it weren’t for the innocent looking cloud of smoke she exhaled while basking in the sun.
It was obvious now. Though this white haired girl wore the standard uniform I could tell that she was thin, malnourished even. A sleigh body and not unreasonable face but I could only see it from the side, she was maybe sixteen years old, I guessed.
“You’re blocking my sun.”
My God, no girl her age should have a voice that husky.
“Err, sorry.”
Damn, she caught me off caught and now I sound like a prat. I wasn’t even close to blocking her sun at all.
“What’s up? Did you come here to tell me to stop smoking or what?”
“I wasn’t going to do that.”
“Oh, I get it. You want one? These are pain in the ass to get, you know. There’s only vending machine in the village and this old lady always heckles me when I go there. Only one vending machine. This is Japan for Christ’s sake.”
She deftly pulled out a crummy cigarette packet and offered me one.
“No, thanks.”
“Tch. Virgin.”
“What!?”
This girl burst into a fit that couldn’t decide whether it was energetic laughter or fatal coughing. Her voice took on a feminine tone when she spoke again, mingled in with the rust of her vocals, like the black mixed into her hair.
“Virgin lungs, obviously.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if you were a smoker you’d jump at the offer. Even the nurses bum smokes off me sometimes.”
“Don’t they care?”
“Why? Everyone has habits, ain’t going to kill me. Not anytime soon, anyway. Don’t think they care as long as I only keep to tobacco.”
What the hell? Was she bluffing? If she was she was doing a good job of not showing it, inspecting her stubby stick with mild disdain before taking another drag.
“Why are you here then?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did I come over in the first place? I shrugged.
“I don’t know, I just felt like coming over and saying something.”
Lame, Hisao.
“No, not that. What are you here for? What’s your problem?”
“Nice phrasing... I’ve got a weak body, I guess.”
“What? All of it? Which part?”
“My heart. What about you?”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
Again, I shrugged but apparently it wasn’t a rhetorical question. Cigarette extinguished she swivelled her chair around to confront me. A roguish smile on her face this one eyed girl clearly took pleasure in the look on my face.
The sight of absent limbs I’d grown used to, more or less but most cover their... raw end with something, usually a prosthetic. She covered nothing up.
Chin in palm she tugged at the skin of her upper right cheek, distorting the red keloid scar that stitched together her eyelids, drawing my attention to it.
Next she slapped her left leg. Of course I play right into her hands; I can’t help but look at the violent looking scar that crosses her stump.
But that wasn’t all. Bold girl as she was she’d drawn back the hem of her green, uniform skirt to expose leg a little too much. I could see the colour of her underwear clearly, a consequence of my eyes being slave to her hands. I watched her fingers slide down the inside of her thigh and...
Pull the skirt back over her knees.
“Tell me, sailor. What do you think is wrong with me?”
I swallowed.
“... Amputated left leg and damaged right eye.”
“You can say ‘missing’ if you like, it’s not like I’m going to believe they might come back one day if you do. But damn, you’re pretty green if this stuff can still get a reaction out of you. How long have you even been here?”
“About a week or so. This is all pretty new to me still.”
“So, what do you think of me? Do my scars make me hard to look at? Am I ugly?”
“No... You’re not... No. I don’t think you’re ugly.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
Goddamnit, what the hell is wrong with her?
Another round of hacking laughter battled its way past her voice box.
What the hell was so funny? I’m a little embarrassed, so what? Who wouldn’t be?
The question still lingered in my mind, despite my irritation. Was she pretty? Not really. She wasn’t really pretty but she was kind of cute. Blues eyes were definitely something, too bad she only had one. That killer voice sort of grew on you as well, like a broken violin, beautiful in its discord. Only one string is still in tune yet it’s worth hearing the bad notes just for that one string to play.
“You’re fun... Wait, what’s your name?”
“Hisao. Nice to meet you.”
“Bikko. Nice to meet’cha. Alright, Hisao. Push me, let’s go somewhere.”
Bikko swung her seat around and fired up another smoke.
Well, whatever. Why not?
“Fine. Where do you want to go? The festival?”
“Fuck the festival. It’s just games for children and that feel good community shit.”
What a mouth. I’m aware that we’re not exactly that far from the festival, it’s just below us but no one seems to have heard.
“I guess you didn’t make a stall then.”
“Nah, I had some ideas but they didn’t fly very well. No one’s got any sense of adventure here. ”
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“Sure?”
Bikko twisted her head back and looked up at me with that one big blue eye of hers.
“Positive. You’re pretty light, you know.”
It was true. She’s dangerously light. I feel I might break her if I crash into anything too hard.
“Must be my diet.”
“Is that why you use a wheelchair?”
“I’m in a wheelchair because I didn’t feel like standing up today.”
“But you can stand up?”
“Sure I can but it’s not like I want to do it all the time; it’s the Weekend, I can’t be bothered. Besides, I don’t need to prove I’m normal or anything. I know I’m not normal. I see some of these kids struggling with walking sticks or false legs and I just get pissed off. They should just sit the fuck down if it hurts that much. Who cares what people think about it?”
I admit it, I’m taken aback. Clearly Bikko isn’t afraid to be frank with someone she just met and I can’t believe it’s an act. But still, I want to tell her that it’s not that easy. I can see how the students here must crave some normality and it’s really not that easy to just ignore what everyone thinks about you. Try getting a job with that attitude or in a wheelchair.
“I guess. Where did you want to go, anyway?”
“Somewhere in the sun, over there somewhere.”
Bikko waved vaguely in the direction of a brush a little beyond the stalls where pockets to students picnicked in the greenery. I figured she’d want to go out a bit, a little closer to the copse than the bustle of the festival.
God, this was embarrassing. I guess I didn’t really think this through. If I had any kind of good reputation here already then I was quickly wheeling it away. More heads than I would have liked turned at the sight of smoking girl being pushed by partner in crime.
Bikko didn’t say anything, simply smoked, arms on arm rests. I noticed she has a habit of leaving the cigarette in her mouth when not talking.
Breathe in tar, breath out smoke. I wonder if she had any room for oxygen. But if Bikko told me she didn’t need to breathe I probably would have accepted it.
“Here’s good. Stop here.”
“Need a hand?”
Bikko stood up on one leg and balanced quiet well. With her skirt covering that inflamed stump of hers I could almost believe her errant limb was merely heel to buttocks.
She leapt, taking hoping strides on one foot, arms out for balance, until she tipped over and crashed into the ground joyfully.
I sat down beside her with a little more tact.
“You want something to eat?”
“Nah, no appetite.”
“Sure?”
“If you’re hungry then go get something to eat, don’t have to be so polite.”
“I don’t really feel like eating.”
“Ah, don’t want to spoil your appetite, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“You took me pretty far out here. Hitting on a girl and taking her somewhere quiet, I’d say you were planning on eating me.”
Not true. The bit about being far away. No, wait. All of it. The stalls are still within sight and rape would pretty difficult considering that there are students even closer, not that I couldn’t count on them to all be deaf as a doorknob.
Oh geez, don’t unbutton your top.
“How about it? Normally I charge but I don’t think you have the money.”
“I’m good, Bikko.”
Suddenly she was upon me. Pinning down both my arms and mounting my stomach.
I wanted to laugh, almost. It was hilarious to think she could hold me down. I wasn’t so pathetic that I couldn’t overpower a petite girl.
And yet, I didn’t.
“What’s your kink, Hisao? Want me to call you ‘big brother’? Lots of guys like that. Any hole is fine too. Blowjob, titjob, thighjob, which one do you like best? I’ll let you cum anywhere. I’ll rub you off with my stump, if you like.”
Part of me wanted to point out that she didn’t have the breasts for a titjob while the majority screamed for escape. I was trapped. Right now I couldn’t eject her if I wanted to, not really. If I went into my cave and found my power animal it would probably turn into Bikko, telling me ‘slide’. Only my power animal was on top of me, wearing cigarette fume perfume and a look of pure sadistic pleasure.
“Stop it, someone will see.”
“No one will see.”
She looked all the same, so did I. There was a little cover between us any voyeurs but nothing much. If anyone looked they would definitely see me being ridden by this devil of a girl.
Bikko ground her buttocks into my crotch as if to remind me she was there.
“Oh, wait. I guess we can’t.”
“Huh?”
“You said you had a bad heart. I’d probably kill you if we did it, right? I don’t think I want that on my criminal record.”
Why hadn’t I thought of that? Truth be told my heart was pounding like mad, nothing hurt as of yet but I wasn’t expecting a fair warning before a full blown heart attack.
Regretfully Bikko dismounted. But whose regret was it? Mine or hers?
Yes, I was hard. Painfully so. Bikko was a girl, biologically at least. It excited me to feel her small body press against mine.
“Hey! Stop it.”
Bikko clawed at my pants zipper, gleefully evading my objecting hands pushing her away.
I’m just about ready to hit her. Really hit her, even if she is a girl. This is too much. I don’t want this.
Repulsive little brat!
Ahh! Bikko fingers are warm. Tender female flesh wraps around my monument. All my resistance flees; I am conquered and to the victor go the spoils of war.
Dangerous, this is definitely dangerous.
Bikko forcefully drives down my boxers and trousers a little way down my legs. A cool breeze hits my bare ass confirming that I am indeed naked outdoors, at least partially.
“Just relax.”
Relax she tells me. I do, a little. But only a little. Her voice is soft, quiet in recognition of the sordid, secret act I am prey to.
Perhaps it would be more convincing to any onlookers if I lay down flat but I can’t do it, I prop myself up on my elbows as Bikko kisses my cock. Thrice more she kisses it, moving towards the tip. For a devil her lips certainly have a touch of the divine and the heat of her breath against my already boiling prick multiples my arousal tenfold.
Expert is her movements. Bikko’s fingers grip and slide down my shaft as her lips tip over the peak and swallow me. In one smooth movement she rids me of my helmet and takes me to the base.
I’m not ready for such an experience. Such warm slippery pleasure. Erectile dysfunction strike me down, I am not worthy.
Bikko barely stops to breath before assaulting me again. Again and again, she holds my member in her throat making small rocking motions back and forth stimulating my entire penis for a few blissful moments, never does she gag.
It’s incredibly erotic to watch her devour me time and time again with a single minded devotion to the task. Bikko looks up at me periodically with that one brilliant blue eye of hers.
For what reason I don’t know she brings down the pace, no longer does she consume me totally but works the head inside her mouth, demonstrating the agility of her small dexterous tongue that drips with ecstasy like the venom of a snake. A poison injected into my penis that dominates me completely.
My eyes wander the rest of her body spread out at a tangent to my left with her one knee coming up towards me.
Suddenly my left hand acts on its own; blindly I reach out with a primeval lust and grope the most succulent meat in the world. Round the back, between her soft inner thighs my fingers bury themselves.
I get it, if Bikko kept her initial pace I would have blow my load by this point, lost in the paradise of her flesh.
A little unexpectedly Bikko separates her legs, her one knee a pyramid to the sky leaving her other half-a-leg pointing directly towards me.
I hesitate. The angry scarring is grotesque to me.
I do something that surprises even me; I reach out and touch it. Bikko stops tracing the nerve running the back of my penis immediately, her expression however, is unreadable. One scarred eye facing me betrays no emotion she might have felt.
The acute contrast in texture is fascinating against my fingertips.
In a sudden flash of inspiration like lighting tearing through the heavens I realize that I love this red stump. It’s stupid, I know. There’s no real reason for it but I no longer find it horrific, rather I see it as an imperfection that only elevates Bikko’s charm through contrast. It is a beautiful thing in itself. But it’s difficult to muse for long with someone sucking your dick.
Only now do I notice her underwear: simple white, no string ties, no lace. I’m a tad disappointed
Sensing no sudden disapproval my not so nimble fingers do their best at stimulating her through the material.
Only damp, huh? I kind of expected her to wash me away with liquid love. Biblical style. Guess I’ve been reading too much H manga.
I quickly discover that Bikko is hairless downstairs yet waste no time on a thorough visual inspection that might be considered rude. I’m aware I need to catch up; I can feel my limit slowly being reached by the relentless workings of Bikko’s silky tongue.
Bikko makes no sound as I enter her warm wetness with my middle finger. I dare another and it moves up along next to the other well. Now she feels moderately tight around my fingers.
I really don’t have any clue what I’m doing but I figure it’s hard to go wrong as long as I don’t just jam it in and hope for the best. Gently, rhythmically I explore her broiling depths and work the textured mound of flesh towards her front. Her hips push against my hand approvingly and I use the remainder of my fingers to grope.
She can sense it too, that my pleasure is reaching its apex. No longer does she work the length, pausing for a moment she breathes hot breath on my moist instrument, a delightful contrast to the cool outdoor wind.
This sensation, it’s like nothing I’ve experienced before. My left testicle swims inside Bikko’s mouth. Masterfully she feasts on them both individually, caressing, tugging and squeezing without ever going beyond the threshold that would ruin our love making undoubtedly. All the while she does this with one hand gripping my cock, using her own saliva as lubricant as she rubs that vital nerve before the head with one creamy index finger.
That’s it. Though I’m slave to this pleasure I can still string together enough thoughts to know what’s coming.
“B-Bikko, I’m gonna...”
“Mmh”
Do it, she tells me. Let myself go inside her mouth, all over her lithe tongue.
Furiously she deep throats my weapon with unbridled speed; again and again I am plunged into the depths of her throat and victim to ecstasy.
It’s coming, I’m coming. My whole body trembles in anticipation of my flowing seed. My life, my essence boils at the base of my penis before shooting forth.
A lake flows down Bikko’s still throat, a searing lake of masculinity. But that’s not all.
Suddenly Bikko retracts and frenziedly continues to blow me at the height of my sensitivity.
I’m being milked. Bikko sucks me dry, sucks every last drop from my body reducing me to a quivering mess of spent spice.
Oh. I didn’t even notice I’d stopped my effort on her.
And now she’s up, on her rear at least, smiling at lifeless me mischievously.
“You swallowed it?”
“Yup!~ You wanted some?”
I shook my head anaemically.
“There’s still some left if you want, it kind of sticks.”
Before I could object Bikko leans over and kisses me briefly. Only after no drooling surprise enters my mouth do I realize that she only wanted a kiss.
##Fade an’ shit. Time passes to night.##
I was a little surprised earlier. The world hadn’t ended; our little act of mutual (eventually mutual) coition remained cosmically unrecognised. Not even that much time had passed.
We decided to stay together awhile. We did little other than talk and eat until into the night. It’s surprisingly difficult to feel awkward over something, around someone who is nothing but relaxed.
A little before now Bikko insisted I touch her breasts. I did but that’s really the whole story, I agreed that they felt... nice, unique, even if they weren’t very big.
“Thanks, Hisao.”
“For what?”
“You’ve saved me a lot of money. I was thinking about leaving this place most of this morning.”
“Funny. Me too.”
“Huh? No shit. Here”
Bikko handed me what was left of the cigarette. That’s another thing, she’s shown my how to smoke, I didn’t even know you needed someone to guide you. It wasn’t great, in fact it was pretty bad but not without some enjoyment. There’s something to be said for self-destruction.
“Thanks. Why did you want to leave?”
“I just feel like wallpaper here, I don’t care if that’s shallow. No one reacts to anything I said or do. Besides, I don’t really feel –”
“That you’re disabled?”
Bikko flashes me big blue, nestled in her jacket.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“I wonder if anyone else feels the same.”
And then it dawned on me. As the sky exploded in fleeting colours I realised that this conversation is not unique to us. How many times has it reoccurred since the foundation of this place? I couldn’t even guess.
When it was all over Bikko scooted over to her wheelchair and got in.
“I guess I’ll stick around for a little longer.”
Me too, Bikko.
