Disclaimer: Bleach is owned by Tate Kudo. I own nada and make nada from this plot.

Inspiration: All the ladies I had a blast with in LiveStream. Ky, Trace, Jo, Jen, Faith, Odie, Ringo, you crazy asses lol. Also inspired: Den of Pleasure by Zane.

Author's Rant: I really hope you enjoy this because my horny side was brought forth and I couldn't resist.

Warning: Hetero, Homo, multi sexual activities.


It looked no different than the other warehouses up and down West Brook and Nadia Street. It was aged, rusted on the outside with grass growing all over the rain soggy grounds and moss caking up the upper windows. On the outside it was nothing worth giving a second glance, but on the inside Ichigo knew better. He knew it for what it really was.

SinSation: the ultimate minefield to have your pussy, ass and dick blown away. He came here four times a week to give into his guilty pleasure, suppressed during the day from the real world. It was his own secret, his delicious fetish.

He reached inside his oil black trench coat for his full white and red stripped mask, a hole cut through for his eyes and lips—one of the special requirements of SinSation— before stepping down the small flight of stairs and knocking on the metal door. Three sharp knocks and two, three second spaced ones. He waited, rocking back and forth on his heels.

The small slid on the door pushed to the side to reveal a pair of bright blue grey eyes, "What's your pleasure?"

"Thick and smooth."

"Mmm," purred the usher before sliding the panel back in place.

The metal door clicked in five different places before opening. Ichigo walked in closing the door behind him. It was pitch black inside. A rubber sack was handed to him to put all of his clothes into—yet another requirement of the joint— and placed inside a secured wall locker.

Ichigo felt the familiar jitters tingling from his toes to the roots of his orange hair. His dick hung loose, twitching every so often at the slightest noise emitting from the velvet curtains.

"Welcome back, Tease."

A pet name here for Ichigo, of course not his real one but he answered to it anyway with a nod to the woman standing by the entrance. She was nude save for her large cat mask and hipster chain draped lazily around full, juicy hips, connecting to her belly button ring. Ichigo's eyes and dick remembered that body all too well.

Large succulent breasts with quarter size nipples, a deep rosy pink color. The shape of her body was an open, close and open shape: hips just the right size for Ichigo to squeeze his hands around. Her legs went on a on and on like a scratched record to her triangle mound with the faintest red curls to match her long red hair. Ichigo was getting those fuck jitters again, remembering last week when her skin rubbed on his, how the way her juices soaked his dick.

She was for another night though. His appetite laid elsewhere. He was usually the one to dominate and have control. Tonight he wanted a new change in routine, something to have him begging for seconds, thirds, fourths and fifths. Nothing quick, nothing slow, man or woman he didn't care. He just wanted it real bad tonight.

"Tonight's the Midnight Gale," the crystal eyed woman, voice like microwaved syrup. "Will you want a King or Queen for tonight?"

"I'ma commoner tonight," Ichigo said softly. "Lemme check out the royalty before I make my choice."

"If that's what you desire," The woman reached out to pull back the curtains, spilling in neon streams of hot red, plum purple, electric yellow and lime green.

The scent of sex and aroma therapy incense whiffed over Ichigo's nose and sent invisible fingers to coax over his sack like tiny feathers.

The usher turned and whipped her hand out for him to enter. Ichigo's eyes dropped to the heart curve of her ass and the little mole her on the right cheek, just above a tattoo of a black and purple butterfly. She stepped inside and Ichigo followed.

It was magic of the upmost sensation. The warehouse was converted into a heaping two story pleasure zone with rooms on the top and bottom floors, a plush red carpet lining the whole stretch and spiraling stairs to lead to the upper level. Soft music was playing in the background. Ichigo heard it the other day and it fit the mood. Dodge & Fuski - Pornstep ft. The Highbury Whores.

Yeah, I'm feelin' this, Ichigo mentally smiled.

He gazed around, greeted on his left and right by sights of men, women, old, young, tall, short, from chocolate to vanilla mocha fucking in some sort of way. Moans deep and sultry purred like struck harp strings. Ichigo lost count of at least a hundred individuals sashaying in their birthday suits wearing Hollow Masks and Mardi Gras Masks to keep the fun undercover.

There were only three kinds of furniture allowed: king sized beds, Victorian chaise lounges, and high wall counters. Literal fuck furniture. Some people stood in twos, threes, small crowds simply chatting, some were perched on the side or on the beds giving oil massages. There were those there to be the show instead of watching the show, fucking like they'd never get to do it again. Anything goes here, man x woman, woman x woman, man x man, threesomes, foursomes, flat out freak fests, it didn't matter.

Ichigo came up to a corner where a wavy haired brunet man had a red haired girl's legs over his shoulders and jamming his dick inside her clenching paradise. Her long throaty moans were singing a sharp A to the man's B flat. Orihime "Giggles" and Coyote "Whisper" if he recalled. They were giving a performance for several others surrounding their bed, men stroking their meat tender and women fondling their breasts.

Ichigo was getting stimulated by sight and smell alone. Near the second spiral railings was one of the man on man action pieces he'd joined only a handful of times. He walked on through the crowds, feeling light touches brushing his arms and chest as he entered into a portion of the world least combed by him.

On a lounge chair perched on all fours was a guy called Shinji "Smiley" with long blond hair, getting fucked senseless by a tall black haired guy with sharp purple eyes sharp enough to cut with a wink. That was how Nnoitra "Wink" was when he fucked anybody. Once he had his skeleton fingers on your hips, there was no escape. He was the one to introduce Ichigo to this part of SinSation called Taboo Jungle, a world of social discrimination turned beautiful.

Men worshiped the buff hardness of each other bodies and women gave into the silent need to have their kitty's scratched with manicured nails.

Ichigo tilted his head to the side, a sly grin pulling at his mouth. Yeah, this sort of thing was definitely on the menu. He stared on with interest as Smiley's face switched from a piano smile to a perfect O when his paradise got stabbed. Ichigo reached down to massage the length of his dick to full attention. His ass cheeks clenched and folded in, toes curling into the plush carpet.

A moan slipped from his lips.

Wink noticed him and slowed is pace to cast a long up and down of Ichigo's body. Ichigo felt the hairs on his arms and legs stand when Wink gave his signature gesture and crooked his finger. "C'mere," He mouthed, licking his lips.

Tempting oh so tempting, but Ichigo promised himself an unfamiliar road to chart. He'd been down this one enough to map it out turn for turn. He gave a small wave and went on to other performances, chuckling at the grunted "Tease," from behind.

Guess that's how he earned his name around here. It usually took a few tries for most to persuade Ichigo into their bed and even then it was hell. He loved playing difficult. It added more to the cat and mouse chase.

Sometimes Ichigo wished he could invite his best friend here. Grimmjow would probably love the cut loose atmosphere but with him trying to get into the basketball thing, there was no way he'd want to tarnish his reputation. Really, could he imagine Grimmjow wanting to go into the Taboo Jungle with eager strokes like Ichigo? Of course not. Because he was a ladies man from blink to step and straightest of the straight destined to be straight.

Oh well, a guy could dream. It would be nice to see what it was like trailing those taunt muscles and landscaping the forbidden zone of his best friend. Grimmjow had a body like no one could imagine, as thick, firm and hard as red wood.

Ichigo suddenly got flanked on both sides by two busty women, one of the chocolate variety and the other of a sweet vanilla. Yoruichi "Black Cat" and Neliel "Sweetie" a couple well renowned for initiating threesomes and foursomes. Both had bodies exploding in all the right places, titties with nipples the perfect size for Ichigo's tongue and long, long hair down to their long, long shapely legs.

Black Cat's gold eyes sparkled as she gripped Ichigo's jaw and angled him down to lick his lips with her warm tongue. Ichigo tasted her, sampled the many tastes floating around in her moist cavern and dragged his large hand down to cup her plump ass. Sweetie, not wanting to be left out, placed Ichigo's hand on her left breast and lowered her hand to squeeze the head of his dick. The orange head dropped his kiss with Black Cat to get a taste of Sweetie's supple lips, curling his tongue in and out with quick flicks.

These two were a conquest already concurred, something for another time. Ichigo nibbled the kiss away, and squeezed each woman's body apologetically. Sweetie's disappointed whimper grazed his ears before they turned into sexy sounds. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder to see another woman with braided blond hair and caramel skin sucking her titties raw and Black Cat devouring Sweetie's lucky land.

The front of Taboo Jungle pulsed like a soprano choir. But the further Ichigo went the rougher and deeper the sex sounds became. He knew he'd touchdown in the meaty part of Taboo when he became sandwiched between two gorgeously cut bodies.

Ones he remembered all too clearly. When strands of red hair cascaded over his shoulder, Ichigo couldn't hold back his smile. A tribal row of tattoos looped around his waist and tugged backwards into a wall of mouthwatering muscles, heat and a healthy sized dick between his ass. This was Renji "Tattoos" Ichigo's personal favorite. He had a jaw like a razor, eyes made of molasses and blood red hair, like a melted jolly rancher and a kiss just as sweet.

Ichigo curled his back against Tattoo's supple pectorals and reached up to pull his face over his shoulder. He saw his red mask only covering half his face and tip toed to kiss his lips. Renji kissed like he licked pussy. His large tongue snaked around slurping and lapping everything it came across. Ichigo could deep throat his tongue—shit, it tasted so good.

When his nipples got pinched, he hissed and turned around to see the other man wanting some of his attention. Eyes sealed shut studied him before a toothless grin showed. Oh this was Gin "Fox" another personal favorite. He had Ichigo by a couple of inches and short silver hair. Ichigo could count on one hand how many times he'd seen Fox's liquid blue eyes and that was only when he reached his peak. He had a lithe body, sexy lean legs, was frailer then Tattoo but he more than made up for the absence of bulky muscles with his swishing pipe downstairs.

Fox rose up from where he was licking Ichigo's stomach and leaned forward to take a nipple between his teeth. Ichigo's eyes rolled closed as powerful sensations began to terrorize his bloodstream. Something like this was what he was after tonight. He wanted to get wild and get dominated. He needed it like a steak needed A1.

When Fox hunkered down to his knees and leaned forward to suck the tip of Ichigo's dick, the orange head knew he just might have found tonight's meal. His knees locked and quivered. Tattoos cupped his palms flat over Ichigo's chest and started groping his pectorals and twisting his nipples like screws. Fox took Ichigo in slowly, letting Ichigo feel all of his tongue and moisture. Like the first step into a Jacuzzi.

Tattoo started grinding between his back, whispering far too low for Ichigo to understand. Ichigo reached around to flick his fingers over the massive length and shivered. It felt just as big as before. "Shit," He flinched when his nuts got pulled into the suction play.

Tattoos wanted more lips and turned Ichigo's head to taste him again. His tongue darted in and out then stayed in Ichigo's mouth to toy and mangle around. It was so sensual and delicious, Ichigo floated into the hazy part of Cloud 9.

But then for some reason, he opened his eyes.

His body burned to know what it was spotlighting as if there were lasers shooting across the room. The kiss died away and Tattoos went for his throat. Ichigo squirmed and whined behind his teeth as he skated around the place. There were men and women watching them, yes, no question. But even with those eyes he felt like there was another pair just scorching his flesh off the bone.

He knew he found it as soon as the crowd parted like the Red Sea and his eyes connected with the flash of blue beneath the sea.

Ichigo froze and nearly passed out.

A half Jaguar mask covered the face of what had to be the sexist man Ichigo had ever seen. Spouts of blue hair stood up unruly off all over the place. His body had muscles stacked over one another like bricks, lassoing all the way down to his tree truck thighs and hefty calves. He had eight abs crunching and flexing right above what had Ichigo's mouthwatering.

That dick was live. "Oh fuck." He whispered.

The blue haired man chuckled. That too thundered over Ichigo's body. All the things Tattoos and Fox were doing only worsened his need to get this man.

One of those blue eyes winked and those sexy plump lips puckered a kiss.

Ichigo felt gravity drop in his stomach and pool in his groin.

This. Yes, he was the new kind of adventure the orange head wanted. He had to have this guy. He had a wild thing for blue hair and knew it came from the craving for his best friend.

All eyes were on the blue devil.

Well that's too damn bad. Fuck every last one of them because he was Ichigo's tonight.

He would gladly take all of his friendly frustrations out on this guy.

The blue haired man watched Ichigo, letting his eyes swallow him alive and smiled at the pants and O's rolling off his tongue.

"I want you," The blue guy mouthed.

Ichigo nodded and eased himself away from Tattoo and Fox's wonderful hands and mouths and dicks. He kissed them both with a smiling promise to finish what they started another time. Ignoring their groaning disappointments, Ichigo merged into the crowd when realizing the guy had disappeared. After the little tease feast with Tattoo and Fox, Ichigo was an open target for grinds, gropes of his ass and sneak flicks on his dick.

He was a walking furnace by the time he saw the blue head hanging outside of one of the entrance to a bedroom. He had his shoulder on the door frame, legs spread wide and arms folded across his chest. The room above read Sexta. Was this his room? Only the big rollers and experienced folks had a place to themselves here.

Ichigo sent the message with his eyes and a thin press around his mouth.

Mr. Sexta, as Ichigo would now deem him, grinned, cocking his head and kicked off the frame.

He was so much taller up closer. To Ichigo's 5'10, Mr. Sexta was an easy 6'2 or 6'3.

Mr. Sexta's hand snuck out and cupped the back of Ichigo's head bringing their faces a lick away. He blew on Ichigo's face, rubbing his pointy nose on his chin, stabbed it into his neck and sniffed while his other hand's finger tips dusted between his muscle lines. Hums raked Ichigo's skin. It was the best kind of steam bath. Ichigo smelled sex, Axe Body Wash, and peppermint on Mr. Sexta's breath.

So delicious. He wanted a taste.

Ichigo leaned away and lifted his head to mesh their lips together. His whole body flushed a dark shade of red as he held Mr. Sexta's head in place and tested him. It was mission, a test to see if this man could hold up. Ichigo wanted to be manhandled tonight. He was in a fighting mood and the best way to tell any man's aggression was through kissing.

So far the subject was gradually gaining points. Mr. Sexta used his hands and gripped Ichigo's hips, fitting their pelvis together for a sensual bump and grind. Magma boiled and churned around Ichigo's belly, trickling through nerve endings. He liked this kiss. There were moments where he took charge and thought he had it until Mr. Sexta would take the lead by dipping his head down to push against Ichigo's tongue.

It was phenomenal. It was like bursting hell wide open and they hadn't even started the good part yet. Mr. Sexta handled himself just fine in Ichigo's book. Ichigo eased back, peaking on the corners of Mr. Sexta's mouth, his chin, his cheeks and neck. "In there," he murmured huskily.

Mr. Sexta licked his answer on Ichigo's mouth and pulled them both through the blue sheer curtains.

The room was glorious. In the center was a large king bed, more wide then long. In the center a gothic number six stitched into the comforter. The number littered the room in each corner and on the walls. Above the bed, on the ceiling was a diamond shaped mirror and two others bookending the bed. Royal blue colored the walls, the plush carpet, and the comforter set. A heater took refuge in a corner. Up above were pale blue and white ceiling lights, blinking and changing from one blue to the next white.

Mr. Sexta went to the other side of the room gripping Ichigo's hand as if to make sure the orange head didn't run away and pressed the switch on a small radio.

Knockin' The Boots by Pretty Ricky started coaxing the room like warmed honey. Snare smacks, sensual beats and minutely bass pumps pounded against speakers coming from all over the room. One snap of his fingers and the lights dimmed but kept the flickering effects.

Holy Shit, Ichigo thought secretly. Large. If he had it like this there was no tellin' what kind of shit this guy was down with.

Ichigo would've stayed there staring all night if he had the time. There was none to be in absolute awe. He had to meet Grimmjow tonight to study with a few friends. But he'd be damned if he didn't get this nut off.

Mr. Sexta's hands went for Ichigo's hips and walked them both backwards to the bed. He took charge by pushing Ichigo flat against the bed. Ichigo licked his lips. He wanted the dog shit fucked out of him. Mr. Sexta dropped his knee on the bed, then the other trapping Ichigo between his massive thighs, dick jutted out like a pirate anchor.

"Ich werde dich in einer halben brechen"

Ichigo didn't what the hell he just said and he flat out didn't give a damn. It was sexy and spoke the language his dick understood.

Mr. Sexta scooted backward until Ichigo's dick was next to his eyes. He stuck out his anaconda tongue and flicked it up, down, side to side and flattened. Ichigo clenched his teeth, to keep the unholy bitch squeals at bay. When Mr. Sexta stretched his tongue flat under Ichigo's nuts, his ass clenched. "Shit, ah!" he gasped. He toiled and collected the balls on his tongue like a couple of marbles. Ichigo's eyes went ash white, his blood boiled. Fuck this felt like heaven.

He licked and toyed around every inch of Ichigo's dick until he took the length in his mouth with one nasty, long gulp. Ichigo couldn't help it. His ass and back levitated off the bed as Mr. Sexta went from Dirt Devil to fuel jet suction, cheeks caved in from sucking so hard. He was all up in there. Mr. Sexta was sucking like he knew the cum was stored inside and he wanted every drop for himself.

Ichigo weakly sat up to his elbows to watch the head of blue bob up and down. He was fucking loving it. Seeing this monster of a fine ass man worshiping his dick was like being blessed by the Pope. Ichigo's breath hitched and stayed in his throat. His insides were turning to silly putty, his fingers tangled into the silk sheets and his lips formed a perfect circle as the first squirt of cum approached. It was only the first of much more.

Mr. Sexta grunted and suddenly yanked Ichigo to the edge of the bed, fingers clamped down on his thighs and sucked harder. Mr. Sexta's tongue was everywhere and all over. He licked the seam of Ichigo's ass, snuck under to his sex hole, kissing, tasting and lapping.

"Jesus, fuck," Ichigo whined long and on fire, as his body glistened under the ceiling lights.

Mr. Sexta wouldn't let up. He was a monster, a fucking savage, going from one spot to the next, licking balls, licking ass, sucking dick and back to the balls. Ichigo heard his bear pants from where he was and grew extra turned on when the tongue stayed stuck inside his asshole. Mr. Sexta devoured him like a starved maniac. Ichigo fought like the pleasure was hurting, but the overwhelming sensations were too much.

If he busts this nut it'd probably be the last one he ever did.

Suddenly it all stopped. All the warmth just left without warning and Ichigo sat up stunned.

Mr. Sexta stood at the end of the bed, stroking his 11 x 3 dick, eleven inches long and three inches wide. He had a grin worthy of a leopard, licking its chops before the kill. His hand massaged and coaxed it in a crooked U. Ichigo braced himself up to his hands, watching the painfully red color turn dark and angry. What a shame. He couldn't let that go to waste.

Ichigo twisted to his fours and came forward, kneeling at the edge, putting him chest to chest, eye to eye with Mr. Sexta. His eyes were so goddamn blue; staring alone would make you drown. Ichigo's eyes crinkled on the edges before he dropped down to the cum-dripping dick. His saliva coated tongue lapped out before taking the dick inside, inch by salty inch. He tasted bits of hair and the raw scent of smut. When it hit the back of his throat, he relaxed, getting a good measure of what was in his mouth.

Ichigo leaned back and leaned forward.

"Shit, s'good."

Ichigo almost gagged. That voice should be placed in a jar and open for special occasions.

He inwardly congratulated himself for getting that much talk of the silent giant and went back to deep throating. Ichigo had to grip the part he couldn't cover and use the lube from his mouth. For every angle he turned and twist, Ichigo was rewarded with a new sound, a new grunt and the tug of his hair.

When he glanced up, it was nearly his undoing.

Mr. Sexta's eyes were set ablaze. A cobalt fire so dark, the pupils vanished. Ichigo sucked harder and fondled the hunk of brown balls scrunching from his touch. Ichigo's hair snagged between long fingers and Mr. Sexta took over, holding Ichigo's head in place to fuck his mouth raw. "Yeah, damn, take dat' shit," Mr. Sexta roughly hissed.

He snapped his hips fast.

Ichigo groaned around Mr. Sexta's sex somehow sending vibrations to his own dick and started jacking off.

Just when he felt Mr. Sexta's dick spasm, Ichigo waited, but had his head yanked up and up and up. Ichigo opened his mouth to protest and got a mouth full of tongue and hand squeezing the shit out of his ass.

They fell back against the bed, Mr. Sexta wedging Ichigo's legs apart with his waist. His hand went around the bed, kissing Ichigo's mouth, licking his mouth, roughly biting his lips. His hand came back with a red plastic bottle of lube. It uncapped, poured and was flung across the room. The moment of stillness came and went; Ichigo's chest heaving and lips dry from panting. Mr. Sexta was determined to kiss and act. His fingers, sleek with lube slid over Ichigo's knees, his thighs and inside and down to where his ass waited. Mr. Sexta teased the rim, rubbed up and down the warm crease before slipping his finger in.

Ichigo inched back, damn near thinking Mr. Sexta was trying to stick his dick in there without preparing, but found that the man just had juicy fingers. "Shit," he winched and moaned. Mr. Sexta waited, pulled back and pushed forward.

A second finger coaxed its way inside. Ichigo's hands couldn't hold on to a single thing. They went from gripping blue hair, squeezing Mr. Sexta's shoulders to finally reaching between them to jerk the meaty hunk. Mr. Sexta stilled, and then buried his face into Ichigo's neck, moaning, kissing and whispering German dirtiness. His hips rolled into Ichigo's hand, matching his finger thrusts per jerk.

Mr. Sexta rained kisses down Ichigo's neck, licking where the sweat built up and the tip of his chin before savagely diving his tongue in his mouth. Ichigo had never kissed anyone as much as he was kissing this man. Somewhere between here and then a third finger had been weaseled in.

It wasn't going to do. He needed his thirst quenched now. Ichigo broke the kiss to say against Mr. Sexta's lips, "Fuck me."

Mr. Sexta stopped, frowned, and then a sexy grin raked across his face. He pulled his fingers back and rose over Ichigo's body. His hips wiggled, him never breaking eye contact and with guidance angled his dick at the point of entry and pushed.

"Oh shit, shitttttt," Ichigo gasped, bending his legs on reflex. He moved his hips, further sucking Mr. Sexta into his ass.

The two shuddered when the blue head continued as far as he could. Ichigo sighed like a balloon released of its helium when Mr. Sexta retracted and gave an experimental push. Ichigo's muscles were fighting him back, tight and soft and so hot, "S'good, so damn good." He jackknifed back and snapped forward.

Ichigo cried out and felt it die into a dragged whine. Shit he was so turned on. Mr. Sexta went from the tip of his head to being buried ankle deep in Ichigo. He went slow pulling in and out with fluid thrusts, so warmly wrapped in Ichigo's embrace.

"Mmm mmm."

"Mmm Mmmm."

"Mm Mm Mmmm."

"Mm Mm."

Communication was so beautiful. The reflections of their bodies wound tight, a mass of limbs played like the scene of a movie. With skin sticky from sweat and damp with lust, Ichigo rocked his hips back, retracted and forward. He opened his eyes, staring at the messy fuck fest. It was so good, so hot, so wet and thick. Ichigo's mind melt, his eyes rolled back and he—shit he buckled when his ozone got grazed. This wasn't fast enough for him. He wanted it faster.

Ichigo used his right leg to turn them over, surprising Mr. Sexta when he found himself the bottom recipient. Tease was in control down. He wanted a taste of being in charge for a minute. Ichigo lifted his knees and eased down. Mr. Sexta squeezed his hips hard enough to bruise, head thrown back against the mattress. Ichigo rode him and rolled his hips in a figure eight, hitting every nook and crevice in his body.

It drove him insane. It made him hot. The sleek of the lube made the thrusts wet and noisy smacks when they connected. Ichigo lifted to the head lowered down, griping Mr. Sexta's biceps for support. His ass cheeks dented and opened, squeezing as hard as he could and releasing. Ichigo went through tidal waves of fire. Spots speckled in his eyes.

Ichigo's hands quaked, his dick spasms rose like high tide. From the tips of his toes to the roots of his orange hair, the orgasm whirl-pooled like a jolt of electricity, "Ahhhh Ahh Ahhh!" His left leg jerked like a bitch in heat.

Mr. Sexta caught him mid-descent and was still going, still pumping, still fucking. His arms wrapped around Ichigo's waist, no kind of style in his thrusts; just wild, heated fluency, as his back bowed and bent with each thrust of his hips, jaws unhinging for his beastly snarls. He bit down on Ichigo's shoulder and held on. Ichigo blinked in and out of slumber-sex.

The muscles under his hands tighten, the teeth on his shoulder loosen and then the spout of liquid burst inside him. Mr. Sexta's orgasmic moan was stuffed against Ichigo's neck, making sure Ichigo felt his release through sight, smell, taste, touch and sound. There bodies tensed and relaxed as one.

Ichigo's head came back and his hooded brown eyes locked with Mr. Sexta's partially slit blue eyes.

"Damn," he whispered heavily. He connected their lips for a savory kiss. What a fuck, what a fuck indeed.

This was the kind of night he needed. This was the sort of release he needed to let out all of his tensed up feelings for his best friend. Ichigo's eyes drifted shut as he felt himself slipping into good sex sleep. The covers were thrown over him, followed by the rustle of his hair.

A few beats of silence passed. When Ichigo opened his eyes, the room was empty.

Mr. Sexta wasn't here anymore.

He was gone.

Ichigo shot off the bed, tangled in the sheets, stumbling. Not like that. Ichigo wanted to see him again. A night like this couldn't be over. Ichigo kicked off the sheets and burst through the curtains. He looked around the room, seeing bodies tangled in the throes of sex. A couple stood by the spiral stairs fucking on the rails.

Ichigo was damn near frantic dodging advances from every direction. Searching everywhere he caught a glimpse of back muscles and dimpled ass cheeks disappearing around the corner towards the back entrance. He sprinted across the threshold, catching Mr. Sexta right as he reached the second stair.

"Wait a sec!" Ichigo grabbed his arm, then his face and kissed him. "Please, don't go yet."

Mr. Sexta froze stone stiff. A hot shudder ran all over his body and he suddenly snatched his face away like the touch of Ichigo burned. Blue eyes dilated wide and surprised, "What the fuck— Ichigo?!"

That husky bedroom voice was gone. It was crystal clear and so fucking familiar. Ichigo felt his heart dropped to his feet. Ichigo grasped the back of Mr. Sexta's head and snatched his mask off.

He stared back horrified.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo said in total disbelief.

Son of a motherfucker.

Mr. Sexta was his best friend.