Bleach - Rangiku x Nerd Boyfriend 2

Summary: Everybody views Taro as an unlucky nerd. On the streets, at university, nobody would bother looking at him. Unless, of course, they realized he was hung like a horse. Only Rangiku had said realization and she was damn lucky for it.

*********

All Soul Reapers were only to cross into the world of the living with explicit permission from their seniors. In the case of Rangiku Matsumoto of Squad 10, that meant her Captain. When her Captain wasn’t available, that meant another Vice-Captain. All she needed was documentation and her trip was assured.

Except finding a willing Vice-Captain was easier said than done. Captain Hitsugaya only signed off on her trips due to the alone time it brought. “Yeah, yeah, just remember to come back in one piece,” the young Captain would say while continuing to train his Bankai. But, because of that very same training, Rangiku’s Captain was submerged in a cave. Going inside was, well, she was already warned thrice about the consequences. Rangiku could be a silly, non-abiding gal but she wasn’t suicidal.

There was only one Vice-Captain that would hear her out. The one man who often let her dilly-dally and do as she wished.

"Come ooooon! Please! I want to go!" Rangiku’s voice echoed off the marble walls of the Senkaimon courtyard, drawing the attention of several nearby Shinigami. She didn’t care.

Arms crossed and brow furrowed was Shuhei Hisagi of Squad 9. He stood firmly between her and the towering gate. “Rangiku, this is the third time this week. Something’s off.” The number 69 and three thin lines donned opposing sides of his face. His voice was sharp, but his eyes betrayed his suspicion. “You keep saying it’s official business, but you’re not even trying to hide how sketchy this is. Why do you really need to go to the human world?”

‘Oh, for the love of—out of all days….’ 

Rangiku sighed dramatically, resting a hand on her hip as her sharp blue eyes rolled to the side. “What’s so hard to believe, huh? It’s an investigation, a secret one! Somebody has to be responsible for maintaining order while the rest of you brood over paperwork.”

Hisagi didn’t flinch. “That’s not your division’s job. If this were legit, you wouldn’t be dodging my questions. And let’s be real here—your so-called ‘missions’ are starting to look less like duty and more like personal detours. I overheard your squad members talking about you carrying a teddy bear from what looks to be the human world.”

Rangiku pouted, a dramatic huff escaping her lips as she crossed her arms beneath her chest. ‘Ugh. I hate it when they start paying attention.’

She crossed her arms under her bust and her voice lowered into a smooth, honeyed tone. “Oh, come on, Hisagi. Are you saying you don’t trust me?” She tilted her head, batting her lashes. “I mean, really, what could I possibly be up to?”

She leaned forward. She propped up her boobs. Boobs. That was all any rational man would think after looking at this hot, bubbly orange-haired beauty. 

Hisagi’s jaw tightened. “Exactly what I want to know.”

Rangiku let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Well, you leave me no choice.’ She uncrossed her arms and literally—to Hisagi’s widening eyes—pulled apart her shinigami kimono apart. Her ample, jiggly boobs popped into full view. 

“H-h-huh—?”

Rangiku placed a delicate hand on her chest and leaned forward just slightly, enough to send Hisagi’s composure teetering and his dick twitching.

“Pleeeease, Hisagi~! I’d hate for us to have to argue over something so silly. I just need to pop over for a bit, that’s all.”

She was weaponizing her boobs. She was making him choose between her legendary tits and her equally beautiful face. 

Hisagi blinked and blinked again and his face flushed a deep red as he tried, and failed, to keep his gaze locked on her eyes. “R-Rangiku, t-t-this is—”

“Oh, come now,” she cut him off, stepping just a touch closer. “You’re not going to let a little red tape get in the way of my investigation, are you?”

“W-well…”

Her boobs didn’t completely defy gravity. There was a small droop to them. In that sense, Rangiku was different from Orihime. But god damn, they were massive with large pink areolas and everything. Not to mention the pillowy mound was pale and shiny. It was no wonder her previous captain Isshin Kurosaki perved over her. 

Rangiku, the woman whose breasts made every man's cock feel small. No shame in admitting it. It was fucking Rangiku 

‘Works every time~!'

Hisagi stammered, his brain evidently short-circuiting as he awkwardly stepped to the side, his hands fumbling to motion toward the gate. Rangiku smirked when she saw he then tried to hide the tent in his Shihakusho.

How cute.

“Fine! Just—fine, go! But don’t make this a habit, okay?”

Rangiku grinned triumphantly and pulled the front of her Shihakusho back on. But, just for effect, since her outfit was very low-cut, she hugged him. Boobs to his chest and had buried in his shoulder. “Oh, you’re the best, Hisagi! I knew I could count on you.” 

She could feel his cock twitch and spasm against her lag. Rangiku giggled. ‘Compared to my Taro, it’s quite cute.’

She pulled away and shot him a playful wink before summoning her Jigokuchō. The black butterfly fluttered gently around her as the Kidō Corps members began opening the massive gate.

As the blinding white light spilled into the courtyard, Rangiku couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. ‘Big boobs, big heart, big needs, and big dreams. What’s a girl supposed to do?’

*******

Through the past decade, Karakura Town was becoming somewhat of a hotspot for overseas workers and students. Twenty some years back, from what was simply ambition and nothing more, Karakura Town established a special foreign exchange university called Kara University. It was one of the town’s most prestigious and well-spent institutions. It was also very coveted and elite, appearing clean but was otherwise an ordinary white building. Ichigo Kurosaki attended Kara University and eventually became a translator through this school’s English program. Fifty-percent of students came from overseas while the others were local Karakura Town folk.

If Ichigo Kurosaki could get accepted, so could an intelligent young nerd like Taro. Thick glasses that needed to be repeatedly pushed and a posture weighed down by a heavy bag. What Taro was could not be hidden. He was a nerd. 

He trudged down the hallway of Kara University’s second floor, clutching a battered laptop bag to his side. His overstuffed binder kept slipping out of his arms as he maneuvered between students. ‘Just make it to class,’ he thought. 

A glimmer of joy welled up in his heart when he saw the classroom door. This was Intro to Latin. It was a class he quite enjoyed—

"Yo, Taro!" 

If not for a certain blonde jock. A super tall, super handsome blond awaited him, a hand on the doorframe. He wasn’t alone, there were some others too. All of them had been waiting for Taro at the behest of the main jock.

“Looking sharp today, man! Did you sleep in that shirt, or what?”

Taro offered a weak smile, adjusting his glasses. “Uh, good morning, Brad.”

Brad snorted and leaned over to his friends. “Good morning,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. The group behind him broke into laughter.

Spoken in perfect Japanese too. Taro bit his bottom lip. They might have been jocks but they weren’t studied. They were elite, just like everyone else here.

Brad Matsuda was a half-Japanese, half-Swedish male, captain of the rugby team and the resident fucker of all the hot women in Kara University. Brad was built like a tank and walked like he owned the school. His arm was casually slung around his Karakura localled girlfriend, Kaguya. She had short-black hair and a nice rack. She often wore tight white collared shirts in order to press her boobs to Brad’s. 

It was a bit of a stereotype: Asian chick prefers the white man over her own kind. Taro didn’t care since, well, he had his own woman. But the image was there because of the height difference between them. Taro wasn’t that short. He was only half an inch shorter than Rangiku. With certain shoes that he intentionally bought, they were usually eye to eye. But Brad? Brad was a bonafide six-foot-six European god. From what Taro knew, he was the second son of a hotshot tennis player and a billionaire heiress. 

“Come on, Taro,” Brad said with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “How’s the computer club? Solved any alien mysteries lately?”

“I’m, uh, not in a computer club.”

“But I saw you there,” Brad said.

“Me too,” Kaguya added for flavour. “What were you doing, nerd?

Taro hesitated, clutching his bag tighter. “Uh, not really. Just, you know, working on—”

“Wait, hold on, stay still,” Brad interrupted, patting Taro on the back in an overly friendly way. He looked him up and down. “Where’s your belt?”

“Belt…?”

“The one I gave you, remember? What, don’t tell me you forgot already? Too much studying overheats your brain?”

Kaguya laughed, a hand over her mouth.

“Um…I don’t think so?”

Was…was he trying to extort him? Taro felt uncomfortable. He didn’t have much in the way of money. Really, it was Rangiku that paid for everything and she supposedly got money through secretly stealing from banks. Being a Shinigami, she could slip in and out without anyone noticing. Taro might have reprimanded her if not for the fact that she bought him the latest Nvidia Graphics Card and a 8k monitor for his PC set-up. Oh, and the delivery she ordered. Aaaand the vacation to the hot spring. All paid by her.

Sheesh, he sure was lucky, wasn’t he?

“Nah, you did.” His grin became devilish. He shot a hand down, gripping the waistband of Taro’s jeans, and in one swift motion, yanked them down.

The young white rugby star’s grin died a terrible death.

Thwap!

The sound was… impossible to ignore. Like a heavy whip cutting through the air. Behind him, some students had been waiting for Brad to finish up. Ahead of him were Brad’s friends and the few that were already inside the classroom. 

Everything went dead silent.

Taro froze, horrified. He glanced down and realized his boxers had betrayed him, sliding down right along with the pants. And now, there it was. Out there. Hanging. A ten-inch flaccid beast, hanging with all the confidence in the world even though Taro himself had none.

The reactions were immediate:

Brad’s lips flopped. It looked like he lost all the muscle in his cheeks. His girlfriend’s Kaguya’s jaw literally fell open, and she let out an involuntary “Oh my God.”

One of the lesser jocks whispered, “Is… is that real?”

Someone behind him, “Holy sh—” before getting shushed by their friend.

Ordinary dicks didn’t hang down like Taro’s did. Legs slightly parted, everyone behind could see a huge nutsack hanging down and even bigger cock drooping down. It was ludicrous. Absolutely massive.

The mighty rugby captain Brad was equally as frozen as the nerd he pantsed. His face was ashen. His confidence evaporated as a hand hovered over his own crotch. His thing did NOT hang like that. He was six-foot-six athletic freak who plowed all the chicks at the school whenever he pleased. He had the stamina. He had the looks. He had the personality. Brad was the douche every guy hated because he could and WOULD steal your girl.

But this? This nerd’s gargantuan schlong dwarfed his four inch flaccid dick. Hell, even his eight inch erection was utterly towered over. 

Burning red, Taro scrambled to pull his pants back up. “S-Sorry!” he stammered, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. His binder slid out of his backpack and hit the back of his head. He grunted and he had to drop lower.

His dick literally touched the floor. Everybody was able to see how low it hung. 

Then he ran off. He didn’t bother with class, not after that. Who could blame Taro too? 

As soon as he turned the corner, the silence broke.

“Did you see that?”

“I didn’t know they made them that big!”

“How many inches was that? A-and was it FLACCID?”

“That’s not a man, that’s a weapon!”

Kaguya turned to Brad, who was still staring into the void, completely rattled. She tilted her head and said, “Wow… I could fall for that.”

Brad snapped out of it. “Kaguya!”

“What?” she said, her eyes still following the direction Taro had run. “Just saying. He’s, um…” The girl had this whimsical giggly smile on her. “Impressive.”

Brad glared at her but couldn’t come up with a response. A few feet away, one of his rugby teammates whispered to another jock, “I’m… I’m not even half that.”

The other guy sighed. “Me neither, bro. Me neither.”

Meanwhile, Taro, utterly oblivious to the chaos he’d left behind, ducked into a stairwell and slumped against the wall. ‘This is it. I’m transferring schools.’

Taro shuffled out of Kara University’s gate, still tugging at his backpack straps like they might anchor him against the world. His thoughts were a looping reel of humiliation — Brad’s look, the crowd’s comments, his own ears burning as he bolted. He just wanted to disappear.

When he opened the door to outside and toward the front gate, he found Rangiku waiting at said gate.

She was perched casually between the gate and her motorcycle, one hip cocked, her long hair catching the breeze like it was performing for her. She wore a mix of her shinigami kimono; the top was certainly the iconic black low-cut garment but rather than the hakama, she added tight black pants to fit in with the modern world. 

A group of guys loitered near the gate, trying very poorly not to gawk at the big-titty strawberry-blonde beauty near the like it belonged in a commercial. Rangiku, of course, noticed — she always noticed — and her lips curled in a playful smirk.

“You boys really should be careful staring like that,” Rangiku teased, tilting her head so her hair spilled over one shoulder. “People might think you’re lost.”

One of them stammered, “W-we were just—uh—”

“Admiring my bike?” she finished for him, giving the handlebars a pat. “Mhm. Thought so. Shame she only takes one passenger.”

Another, braver one, cleared his throat. “Maybe you could make an exception?”

Rangiku laughed, a light, melodic sound that turned every head in earshot. She leaned forward just enough to make him lose his words entirely. “Oh, honey, trust me—if I ever needed a backup rider, you’d be the first… third… maybe tenth guy I’d call.”

The group erupted in nervous chuckles, trying to play it cool under her gaze. She gave them a little wave with her fingers, eyes glittering with mischief. “Relax. You’re all cute. Just not my type.”

Boners—all of them. Just hearing her compliment them was heavenly.

And then she spotted Taro.

The smirk vanished, replaced by a grin so radiant it almost looked out of place on the same woman who’d just left three college guys speechless. Her whole face lit up, her eyes softening, and she straightened like she’d been waiting for him all day.

“There you are!” she sang, pushing off the wall and away from the gawkers like they didn’t exist.

Her smile was wide, her eyes gleaming like he’d just made her entire day by existing. Before Taro could open his mouth, she practically bounded into him, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

Taro melted under the warmth of her body pressed against his. He could feel the stares of the students trickling out behind him — all those guys who’d kill to be in his shoes.

Rangiku leaned back just enough to beam at him, nose scrunching adorably. “You know what’s funny? I was this close to calling you and saying, ‘Hey, let’s ditch everything and run away together today!’” She poked him in the chest, her voice sing-songy with amusement. “And then—bam! Look who shows up early, looking like he read my mind.”

Taro’s face flushed crimson. “I-I just… wasn’t feeling class.”

“Mhm,” Rangiku hummed, clearly unconvinced but far too delighted to care. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, practically bouncing on her toes. “So! Since you’re already skipping… how about the beach?”

“B-beach? Now, b-but I don’t have—”

"It. Will. Be. Perfect."

“Mm, come on, babe~!” The world behind her seemed to sparkle into pink. Her lips and her boobs, everything caused his dick to jump. “It’ll be a date juuust for us. Sun, waves, and maybe some terrible boardwalk food. It. Will. Be. Perfect.”

Who could say no to those boobs? Not Taro, that was for sure.

He nodded.

Next thing he knew, she shoved a spare helmet against his chest and swung one leg over her motorcycle. 

Taro swallowed hard. He could have been an idiot and noticed the feel of envy radiating from every guy on the quad as she fired up the engine and patted the seat behind her. He sat behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and they went off. 

*******

The ride down the coast felt like a blur. Taro clung to Rangiku’s waist, the hum of the motorcycle vibrating through him as wind whipped his hair into chaos. The city melted away behind them. Glass and concrete giving way to rolling hills, then the shimmering line of the ocean stretching wide and endless.

When Rangiku finally pulled off onto a sandy road, the air smelled different: salt, sunscreen, fried food drifting from a shack somewhere nearby. Palm trees leaned lazily toward the waves, and gulls cried overhead. The late sun hung low, turning the water into a sheet of gold.

She braked at a small turnout that looked half-hidden from the road. Beyond it, a trail led down to the sand. The sign, faded and half-buried, read: Kujira Cove — Public Beach. In smaller letters, graffiti had scrawled: clothing optional.

Taro climbed off, pulling off the helmet and mildly dazed. He was a normal human, he couldn't travel at high-speeds without getting slightly winded. “W-wait…" He rubbed his eyes. He re-read the clothing optional part. "This isn’t—”

“The main beach? Nope.” Rangiku’s voice was sing-song, like she was revealing a secret. She swung her leg off the bike and stretched, arms raised high, her leather jacket sliding back just enough to make the movement distracting. “Way better.

Taro pointed at the sign. “N-no, I mean...clothing optional?!”

She laughed, loud, carefree, and sparkling. “What? Don’t look so scared. It just means you’ve got choices. Boxers, trunks, whatever. You’ll be fine.” She bumped her shoulder against his with a grin. 

“H-h-huh!?”

The sand was soft, pale and warm underfoot, broken by patches of dune grass and driftwood logs scattered like old bones. The water stretched wide and glittering, waves curling in lazy arcs before foaming up the shore. Off in the distance, rocky cliffs framed the edges of the cove, giving it a sheltered, almost secret feel.

Rangiku tugged at his hand, pulling him forward before his nerves could root him to the spot. “Come on, Taro. You’re with me. That means you’re already having the best day on this whole beach, clothing or not."

And just like that, she was already kicking off her boot and her clothes. Underneath was a pink bikini that was surprisingly modest for her standards. It wasn't micro nor was it triangular, it was pink and cute aaaand she was taking it off already. Her hair flew loose in the sea breeze as she untied the knot of her pink floral bikini top and let it fall to the warm sand with a soft thump.

“W-wait, you had a bikini and—”

And she was stripping it anyway!?

Taro made a sound like a clogged drain. “Y-you could have at least told me you planned this!"

She turned, fully naked and fully giggling. The little turn made her full, heavy breasts sway gently. A brilliant, mischievous smile played on her lips and accentuated the beauty mark beneath them. She winked. “Yeahhh, I know. I brought a bikini underneath but it’s waaay too hot. I’m opting out, 'kay babe?” She gave his chest a playful poke. “Don’t worry, honey, you can still keep your boxers. I don’t mind, though the other ladies might be disappointed~! Oh, but look at you. You still haven't changed. Let me help you.”

Taro didn’t get to do a damn thing. She was stripping him. And right when she was about to pull down his boxers, she looked up with a soft smile. “Hey, I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do."

She licked her lips anyway. There was a delicious bulge coursing down the endpoint of his black boxers. Taro had to stretch and pull his boxers down so that his dick wouldn’t peek out. 

“Uhhh, I think for now, um…I-I’ll stick with the boxers.”

“That’s fine by me! Let’s go, go, go!”

The boring, black boxers that didn’t fit at a beach. God dammit. 

Taro’s face flushed a deep, flustered red as his girlfriend, utterly nude and magnificently unbothered, rose to her feet. She began strolling down the beach. Her strawberry-blonde hair cascaded down her back, and every step was a gentle, hypnotic jiggle. Her booty and her tits, she was very voluptuous and soft. Taro trailed after her, a nervous nerd in the wake of a sun goddess, painfully aware of the stark contrast they presented.

It didn’t take long for attention to find them. Two men, muscles sculpted from years of athletic discipline, peeled away from a group playing volleyball. They were both nude, tanned, and exuding a cocky confidence that came from being at the top of their field—and from being very well-endowed. 

Taro recognized them instantly. ‘T-those are the Yamamoto brothers. They’re not ACTUALLY brothers but they’re a super famous heavyweight boxing duo. I can’t believe they’re in Karakura Town!’ 

Then again, with the advent of foreigners and the added investment that came with it, Karakura Town was shaping up to become an underrated region for people to live in. 

The boxing duo were both impressively hung, their cocks swinging with a muscular heaviness that spoke of more than just softness. One was a thick six inches, the other perhaps seven and a half, with low-hanging, weighty testicles that testified to their virility. The second boxer was taller too and, if Taro recalled, the better of the two and planning to fight the current heavyweight champion.

Rangiku turned. “Something wrong, love?”

“T-those guys, one of them is Kazushi Yamamoto! He’s challenging the heavyweight champion next week.”

“Ohhh.” Rangiku blinked. “I don’t know what that means, but, um, great!”

An awkward thumbs-up. 

The boxers zeroed in on Rangiku based on her booty. The apex boxers and their eyes drank in the spectacle of her as she turned. “Well, hello there,” the taller and stronger one—Kazushi—said. “A vision like you shouldn’t be walking alone.”

“Yeah,” the brother chimed in, flexing his abdomen subtly. “Maybe you’d like some company. Someone who can keep up with you.” His gaze dropped to his own six-inch soft equipment, then back to her, with an implication that was anything but subtle.

Rangiku just giggled, a light, airy sound. She didn’t bother to cover herself, instead placing her arms under her bust, which only served to push her melons out further. “Oh, I’m not alone.”

“I can see that.” Kazushi glanced at Taro like he was a fly. It seemed his greater height gave him great strength and greater arrogance. Focusing on his face and his scrawny build, he didn’t look down at his boxers. He didn’t notice the giant bulge permeating down his boxers. 

“I-I’m a huge fan,” said Taro. “Sir. Sirs. B-by the way, I’ve always meant to ask, why do you guys call yourselves brothers when you’re not really brothers.”

Kazushi and his not-brother exchanged looks. It looked like they got this question all the time in private. In the public sphere, however, they never quite answered it. “We’re sworn brothers. It’s a promise of dedication,” Kazushi replied. He then sent Rangiku a smile. “I am nothing but dedicated to those I give my word to. Whether in battle or in bed.”

Rangiku laughed. That was pretty good.

“Well, so am I. I’m a woman of my word and this is the man who I’ve given my word to, Taro. Cute, isn’t he?”

The boxers flicked over his slender frame a second time. No look at his boxers again. They snorted in unison, a derisive pfft of air. “Him? Seriously?” the taller Kazushi chuckled. “Sweetheart, a woman like you, you need a real man. You just haven’t had a proper taste of what’s out there. We could show you what you’re missing.”

Here was the thing: Rangiku was a naturally flirty woman. Her voice was naturally flirty. Her boobs flirted without speaking. And, well, to try and stop her was to make her not Rangiku. He knew she loved him. He knew she gave him no reason for distrust.

Even this. Especially this, because Rangiku laughed them off. Hard.

And Taro just wanted to help her. Make her look not crazy. Because she looked a bit crazy when she laughed and pointed at their dicks. They weren’t small. They just…

‘Aren’t me.’ 

Something in Taro’s posture shifted. The anxiety was still there, a frantic drumbeat in his chest, but beneath it, a cold, hard diamond of resolve formed. He saw the way they looked at Rangiku, like she was a prize to be won, and the way they dismissed him, like he was nothing. His shyness, for the first time, was being burned away by something between fierce, protective pride and not wanting Rangiku to look weird. 

His hands, which had been fidgeting nervously at his sides, suddenly hooked into the waistband of his boxers. With a quick, decisive motion, he yanked them down to his ankles.

The world on their little patch of beach seemed to stop. The gentle crash of waves faded into a dull whump. For the second time in one day, the arrogant muscled man were stunned. First Brad, the apex of his school. Now the Yamamoto Brothers, the apex of the sporting world. 

Flaccid, he was a revelation. A thick, heavy ten inches of soft, uncut Japanese dick, dwarfing the boxers’ offerings completely. It was paired with a sac so full and massive it seemed almost impossible. 

Pure genetic fortune versus training. 

Nerd versus jock. 

The difference wasn't slight; it was cataclysmic. The boxers’ confident smirks dissolved into expressions of pure, unadulterated bewilderment. Their jaws went slack. They stared, their own impressive assets suddenly seeming… inadequate. Pathetic, even.

Rangiku’s smirk widened into a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. She let out a soft, knowing hum. “Mmmhmm. See what I mean?” The biggest, most beautiful breasts on the beach, and the single, most devastating cock. Of course they were together.

She turned her attention back to the boxers and spoke with mocking sweetness. “So, you were saying? Something about showing me what I’m missing?” She took a step closer to them, her boobs jiggling. “I’m so curious. Tell me more.”

But the fight had gone out of them. Their eyes were glued to Taro’s bigger, better dick. Their bravado was utterly shattered. They knew. The boxers understood, in that single, shocking visual, that no matter how hard they trained, how famous they were, they could never compete. Taro hadn’t just been there; he had ruined her for any other man. He had fucked her brains out with that incredible, unbelievable piece of flesh. He gave her the real thing.

“N-no,” Kazushi stammered, taking a step back. “We, uh… we gotta go.”

They practically fled. Their retreat was as undignified as their approach had been arrogant.

As they went to sit down underneath an umbrella, Rangiku clung to her boyfriend, her arms wrapping around his neck, her large, soft breasts flattening against his chest. She was laughing, a glorious, full-bodied sound of joy and pride.

“Even shinigami men have become so bold. It worries me a little. Is society collapsing, my dear Taro?”

“U-um…”

Rangiku giggled. She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, her warm breath a whispered promise that made his new-found confidence bloom into something hot and demanding.

“Mmm, that was so fucking hot, Taro. Seeing their faces…” Rangiku purred. Her voice dropped to a husky, intimate murmur. “They have no idea, do they? No idea what this gorgeous cock of yours really feels like when it’s not so shy… when it’s so hard and thick and fucking pounding into me. They think it’s just big. They don’t know how you use it. How you fucking own me with it.” Her hand slid down between them, her fingers trailing down his abdomen, stopping just short of where he hung, heavy and waiting. “I can’t wait to get you home. I’m going to fuck you so hard, babe…”

Rangiku’s whispered words were a jolt of pure lightning straight to his groin. That low, husky promise of what was to come, the raw admiration in her voice—fuck—it was all it took.

The heavy, soft piece of man meat between his legs began to stir. An undeniable awakening of the biggest cock on the beach. He could feel the blood rushing, a hot, insistent pulse that made his already ego-shattering length bigger. 

The Vice-Captain saw it, too. A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. She didn’t need to pull back, she only needed to look down. Her eyes widened, not in shock, but in sheer, greedy delight.

“Oooh, there he is,” Rangiku cooed. “There’s my good boy. Saying hello for me.”

It was a transformation. What had been a massively impressive display of soft, flaccid flesh was now becoming a monument of pure, rigid arousal. It surged upward, thickening, lengthening, the mushroom head emerging from its sheath with a slight, wet noise that made Rangiku’s mouth water. Veins became pronounced ridges under the skin, a roadmap of his desire. A true thirteen inches of thick, veined perfection, jutting out from his slender frame with an almost impossible grandeur. His enormous balls, already a weighty sac, drew up tighter, full and heavy with the need to release.

The beach noticed. Everyone noticed. It was by far the biggest thing the beach had ever seen. Married or not, the women gasped. The men burned in envy.

Rangiku did not stop to watch. She knew this about him. She knew he was the biggest. She dropped to her knees in the sand without a second thought, her big breasts bouncing with the motion. The look on her face was one of pure, unadulterated worship.

“I still can’t believe I’m so lucky.” Rangiku breathed out, her hot breath ghosting over the hypersensitive head. “Just… fuck. Look at you.”

She was lucky? He was lucky. This was a couple that would trade back and forth on who was luckier. Neither could win the argument because both were correct. They were damn lucky.

Rangiku’s fingers wrapped around the base. She couldn’t even close her thumb and forefinger around its girth. She gave him one slow, deliberate pump, her eyes locked on his, and a thick, glistening bead of precum welled up from the tip. 

Spurt!

“Mmm, you’re already leaking for me, baby~!” Rangiku didn’t break eye contact as her pink tongue snaked out, catching the drop with a precise flick. “So sweet. So big.”

A low gasp left his throat. The sight of her, this big-titty strawberry-hair goddess on her knees, her intense focus entirely on his cock, was nearly enough to make him spill right there. Every nerve ending was on fire.

Rangiku didn’t make him wait. She opened her mouth, and with a filthy, wet slorp, she took the broad head past her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second in pure bliss as her tongue swirled around the crown, tasting him, savoring the sheer size of him stretching her lips. 

Then her eyes opened again, locking onto his with a carnal intensity as she began to move. She didn’t to take every fucking inch of his cock like a lunatic. 

She started slow, working the first few incredible inches with a practiced ease that made Taro’s knees weak. Her head bobbed forward, taking more and more. Her throat worked around him. The sounds were obscenely loud in the open air: the wet, sucking schlup as she took him deep, the guttural glrk as her throat accepted him, and the sharp, breathy huff through her nose when he hit the back of her throat.

It wasn’t even close to the full thing yet. 

“Fuck, Rangiku…” Taro moaned, his hands tangling in her strawberry-blonde hair. He wasn’t pushing, just holding on for dear life.

She pulled off with a loud, messy pop, a string of saliva connecting her bottom lip to his glistening shaft. “You like that, baby? You like watching your slut try to suck your unbelievable cock?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, diving back down with renewed hunger. 

She was taking him deeper now. Six inches upon the first stroke, then seven inches, then eight and nine. “Mmmmppph~!!”

“R-Rangiku!”

She was moving fast. So fucking fast that before he knew it, her nose buried itself in the coarse hair at his base. Her throat convulsed around him, massaging the head, and she held herself there for a long, breathtaking moment. The pressure was insane, a tight, wet, perfect heat that was milking him, begging for his cum.

She came up for air, gasping, saliva slicking her chin. “God, I want you to fucking ruin my throat. I want to feel you shove it down. I want to swallow every. Last. Drop.”

Her words were a direct command to his body. His hips gave an involuntary buck, thrusting his length back between her waiting, eager lips. 

She gulped him down. This time, it WAS about taking every fucking inch like a lunatic. Her hands came up to fondle his colossal balls, rolling the heavy orbs in her palms, feeling the tightness building within. She picked up her pace, her head becoming a blur of motion, a divine, sucking rhythm. 

It was lewd. It was glorious. Nobody on the beach could stop them. Nobody wanted to. Her cunt was dripping wet. Everyone knew just how hot this was. 

Taro was close, so close, the coil in his balls winding to a breaking point. The sun on his skin, the smell of salt air and her perfume (or was it her sweat? He could never tell), the overwhelming visual of his enormous cock disappearing into her beautiful face—it was all too much.

“Rangiku… I’m gonna—nnngghh—!!!” 

She pulled off one last time, her face a mask of lustful determination. She jerked his shaft with both hands, her grip tight and fast. “Do it. Cum for me, Taro. Paint my face with it. I want to wear your fucking load. Show everyone who I belong to.”

Rangiku wanted to crush any hope of a threesome or foursome. Not that the men would dare. Being a woman, they didn’t understand that the males respected Taro and his cock. That he completely and totally had dominion over him.

So they just jerked off. They jerked off to the nerd cumming on this big-titty goddess. 

The first powerful jet splurted across her cheek, catching her just below her beauty mark. The next seven thick ropes splashed across her forehead, the next ten spattered on her breasts. 

Spurt, spurt, spuuurt! Spuuuuuurt! 

Her hair and her boobs and her face—everything was lathered in thick, white ropes. 

Rangiku’s mouth was open in a perfect ‘O’ of ecstasy, and she caught the last few intense pulses directly on her tongue, swallowing eagerly with a series of thirsty gulps. She kept stroking him with her hands, milking out every last drop until he was shuddering and sensitive, his massive cock still twitching in her grasp.

Rangiku finally stilled, breathing heavily, covered in the evidence of his orgasm. She looked up at him, her icy blue eyes shining with triumph and adoration. She ran a finger through the mess on her cheek and brought it to her lips, sucking it clean with a final, definitive slurp.

“Mmm,” she hummed, licking her lips. “Now that’s a appetizer.”

She tasted him on her lips, a musky, primal flavor that made her core clench with fresh, desperate need. A low, appreciative murmur rippled through the small crowd that had gathered at a respectful distance, their curiosity piqued by the stunning, cum-glazed woman and the shy man with the god-like endowment.

Rangiku’s eyes, heavy-lidded and burning with lust, locked onto Taro’s. A wicked, glorious smile spread across her face as she grinned and looked up at him. She rose to her feet. Taro pathetically offered his boxers to use as a towel. She used it and then leaned in.

Her voice was a hot, conspiratorial whisper against his ear. “Mmm, look at them, Taro. They’re so fucking curious. They saw your magnificent cock, they saw you paint my face… but they haven’t seen the main event.” Her hand darted down and licked a stray drop from his still-throbbing shaft to her lips, making him jolt. “Let’s give them a show, my love.”

Before he could even process the audacity of it, she was turning, presenting herself to him on all fours in the warm sand. Her back arched deeply, pushing her incredible ass high into the air. The glistening, pearlescent streaks of his spend shimmered across her shoulders and back, a map of his prior ownership. Her pussy, a slick, swollen prize, was offered to him without shame or hesitation. 

“Come on, Taro.” Rangiku threw a smoldering look over her shoulder. “Fuck my brains out. Right here. Right now. I need to feel that monster ruin me for anyone else all over again. I need everyone to see it.”

His initial shock was obliterated by a wave of possessive, raw desire. The murmurs of the crowd, the presence of the two humiliated boxers staring slack-jawed from the water’s edge—it all faded into a distant hum. The only thing that existed was Rangiku, her pussy, and the overwhelming need to claim her. His hands, no longer hesitant, found the generous curves of her ass cheeks. 

He slapped it once. He watched it jiggle. He slapped it a second time and Rangiku giggled along with the jiggle.

“You love my ass that much, hm? I do find them underrated~”

Indeed. He positioned himself, the broad, plum-colored head of his cock pressing against her drenched entrance. It was a tight, perfect fit, even for her, stretched and used as she was to his immense size. With a single, powerful thrust of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

CLAP—! 

Rangiku’s head snapped back, a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat that was absolutely not lost to the sound of the waves. “FUUUUCK! TARO! YES! I MISSED THIS COCK! I MISSED THI—” 

He didn’t wait, didn’t tease. He set a brutal, punishing pace from the start, his hips pistoning forward with a force that echoed across the beach. Slap! Slap! Slap! The sound of their bodies meeting was obscenely loud.

Every deep, penetrating thrust sent a seismic shock through her body. Her magnificent breasts, already swaying heavily, began to bounce and jiggle. It was mesmerizing. They slapped against her own chest with soft, fleshy thumps with every one of Taro’s powerful lunges.

“OH GOD, RIGHT THERE! YOU FILL ME UP SO FUCKING GOOD! SO GOOD! SO GOOD—!”

Every women in the beach knew it. They saw from the way her eyes rolled back and she smiled.

“I-I’M CUMMIIING~!!!”

Rangiku was orgasming. She was getting fucked hard and cumming hard. No faking or holding back, a single line of drool rolled down the corner of her mouth. A lewd visual testament to the power of this nerd’s fucking.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

And he was half-way putting effort into it. In other words, this was only the beginning.

“S-sheesh, why can’t you fuck like that,” one woman asked her husband, a rather famous tennis player. And perhaps even the father of a certain Brad. The blonde male flushed and stammered out an excuse to his Japanese wife. She didn’t like it.

“This Japanese boy…”

“Really shouldn’t underestimate them, huh?”

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

It wasn’t about Japanese or foreigners. It was about Taro. Taro and his big cock. He was the anomaly, no one else. 

“Look at you take it,” Taro grunted, his voice a low, gruff thing he barely recognized, his own politeness utterly fucked out of him. His fingers dug into her hips. “Your pussy is gripping me like your hands, Rangiku. It’s so fucking hot and wet for me.”

“IT’S BECAUSE IT’S YOURS! ONLY YOURS!” Rangiku shrieked, her voice cracking from the intensity. She made a point of turning her head, her eyes finding the two boxers whose cocks now looked like pathetic little novelties in comparison. “YOU SEE? YOU SEE WHAT A REAL MAN FEELS LIKE? YOU SEE WHAT A REAL COCK CAN DO? HE’S FUCKING DESTROYING ME! HE’S RUINING THIS PUSSY FOR ANYONE ELSE!”

Cue the rolled back eyes. Cue the grin. Cue the dozens of orgasms making her smack down on the sand face-first.

“OH, GOD, TARO! HARDER!”

Encouraged, consumed, Taro leaned over her, driving himself even deeper, changing the angle. With her face-down and ass high position, this completely new position made her cry out in a pitch so high it was almost a squeal. “YES! RIGHT THERE! RIGHT ON THAT SPOT! FUCK! YOU’RE SO BIG! YOU’RE STRETCHING ME WIDE THE FUCK OPEN!”

The filthy, explicit praise poured from her, a non-stop torrent of adoration for his cock, his fucking, and his sheer masculine power. She was his personal hype man, his worshipper, his perfect fuck. Every gasp, every scream, was a bullet aimed directly at the ego of every other man on that beach.

Taro’s world narrowed to the exquisite feel of her velvety, clenching walls milking his shaft, the sight of his massive length disappearing into her over and over, shining with their mixed arousal, and the remarks of her absolute, unbridled ecstasy. His heavy balls swung furiously, slapping against her ass with every plunge.

An ass that was fucking back.

“That's how you fuck a dick.” In between thrusts, Taro stopped and slapped her booty. “No excuses about knees hurting, she's giving 110%. Good girl.”

He spoke in third person and it was like a conversation arose. Like he was demeaning everyone else. He didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened. The men? English or Japanese or whatever, they talked about it like it was a sport. Like this dude was far beyond them. An athlete in his field, all the while they masturbated.

“How do you not nut immediately…?”

“Damnnn, I can see it in her stomach…

“That big ass dick will make yo eyes do that.”

“He’s fucking her like she did him dirty in the past and he’s taking out all of his anger.”

“Right? No wonder they came here to the beach. The neighbors were probably sick of it…”

There was no anger. There was only passion. These men couldn’t see that. They were just spectators. They were simply the audience. They didn’t understand.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

“I’m not gonna last, Rangiku! The way you’re creaming… your tight little cunt is sucking the cum right out of me!”

“DO IT!” she demanded, pushing her ass back against him to take him even deeper, her body trembling on the verge of its own collapse. “FLOOD ME, TARO! FILL MY FUCKING WOMB UP! I WANT TO FEEL YOUR HOT CUM SHOOTING DEEP INSIDE ME! MARK ME! GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE ME EVERY FUCKING DROP!”

Her words were his undoing and he slammed into her as deep as he could possibly go, his body locking up as the first cataclysmic pulse erupted from his nutsack. SPUUURT! Inside her, a hot, thick geyser of his release began to jet out, painting her inner walls white. He could feel it, a torrential outpouring of his cum, claiming her, filling her, satisfying her greedy womb.

Rangiku’s own orgasm ripped through her a second later, her cunt clamping down on his still-pulsing cock in a violent, rhythmic spasm that milked him for all he was worth. Her scream was a wordless, keening wail of pure, unadulterated satisfaction as she collapsed forward onto her elbows, her body quaking.

Taro followed her down, bracing himself over her, both of them panting, dripping with sweat, connected in the most intimate way possible. The crowd was utterly silent, save for a few shocked, aroused gasps.

Slowly, Rangiku lifted her head, a look of pure, fucked-out bliss on her glorious face. She looked left and right, her eyes trying to find the two boxers one last time. She couldn’t, she was fucked stupid and her vision was a blur. A slow, triumphant, and utterly spent smile graced her lips anyway. 

"See?" Rangiku was fucked silly. Cum poured out of her cunt in huge thick globs. To some, thi was humiliating. To her, this was a proud symbol of her victory. "That's... that's what a real fucking feels like."

Rangiku, creampied and brimming with a feeling of smug victory. Proud of her nerdy, big dick boyfriend.

What a lucky couple indeed.