Part 1 of 2

WARNING: This story contains frank and vulgar discussion of sexual 
promiscuity, abuse of controlled substances, and other offensive 
behavior.  If you didn't like the first draft, this version will 
make blood come out of your ears.  You'd better not read it  ... 

I've made substantial changes, mostly additions, since the first 
draft.  This version includes a script-style lemon scene and, 
believe it or not, poetry!


[LEMON] Ranma 1/2: A Real Man 
(second draft)

by Doughboy


I couldn't believe what was happening.  Akane was standing at her 
bed, with her right foot on the floor and her left up on the 
mattress.  Already stripped down to her undies, she had unhooked 
her left stocking from the straps on her garter belt and was 
rolling it down her leg, slowly and seductively, like a model in a 
French TV commercial.  The picture was perfect, except for 
occasional wobbling on Akane's part, thanks to all the punch she 
had downed.

I should have thrown the punch bowl - no, the whole buffet - out 
the window as soon as I found out that Kodachi had crashed Ukyou's 
party.  Since I had arrived early and eaten my fill before Oyaji 
and Jiji could hog all the food, I was pretty much done munching 
out before the Black Rose showed up.  Anyway, whatever she doped 
the food up with had reduced everybody else to various states of 
hallucinogenic madness.

Ukyou had reverted to her boy-act, speaking in a low, gravelly 
voice, smoking a cigar, and hefting her "package" in derision.  
Mousse cried in a corner, whimpering something about his mother.  
Ryouga crawled around on all fours, grunting and squealing and 
eating whatever spilled on the floor.  Shampoo lost her accent and 
spoke impeccable Japanese.  But Akane's reaction was by far the 
most surprising.

The drugs had turned my iinazuke into some kind of nymphomaniac.  
She flirted with all the guys at the party, blowing kisses and 
dancing dirty.  I decided to get her out of there as soon as she 
started doing a striptease for Kuno, who had been following me 
around much of the time, bowing and scraping and begging my 
forgiveness.  All the way home, Akane was putting her hands all 
over me and trying to kiss me.  "Baka!" I scolded.  "You're high 
as a kite!  It's Kodachi's shit talking.  You don't mean any of 
this!"  No, she protested, I love you, I want you, I'll be a 
kawaii wife for you ... blah, blah, blah.

I wanted to do the upright and noble thing, but all Akane's 
attentions had Little Ranma standing at attention and somehow, he 
had convinced me to take Akane upstairs to her room.  My truest 
intention had been to make sure she fell asleep and to lock the 
windows and door so Akane couldn't sneak out to screw half of 
Nerima.  But when her dress fell to the floor, I immediately 
forgot everything that wasn't soft, curvy and standing in front of 
me.

When Akane finished taking removing her hose and garter, she 
reached around to unfasten her bra.  Against all my instincts, and 
in violation of Sergeant Pecker's shouted orders, I reached out 
and stopped her.  "No Akane," I whispered. "We can't do this." 

She put her hand to my cheek.  Her big, beautiful eyes shimmered.  
"Sweet Ranma.  Don't be nervous.  It's my first time, too."  A 
light breeze blew the through the window, parting the curtains and 
increasing the moonlight that shone on the two of us as we stood 
gazing into each other's eyes.

I burst out laughing.

FIRST TIME?!

************************************************

Of course, Akane wouldn't know that it wasn't MY first time, not 
by a long shot.  Hell, it wasn't even my first time in her 
bedroom.  Once, Nabiki had thought it would be a real turn-on to 
do it on Akane's bed, always eager to be cruel to her baby 
sister.  When I demurred, the crafty bitch pulled out a betacam 
cartridge of me and Hinako-sensei doing the nasty that day in 
detention (not one of my better performances, since the teacher 
was continuously draining my chi to maintain a body over the age 
of consent).  I brought plenty of towels and asked Kasumi to 
change Akane's sheets afterwards.

Thankfully I've been able to keep it from Akane for all this time, 
but I'm no virgin.  I've managed to get laid on a regular basis 
(not counting the cat-tongue period ... and I DO mean PERIOD) 
since I came to Nerima.  And before that, I fucked girls all the 
way to China and back.  No, Akane, I've done it hundreds of times, 
with plenty of different girls, and I'm really good at it, too.

Now, when I say that I'm a great lover, it's not because I'm a 
blustering, overconfident, macho jerk.  Well, I AM precisely that, 
but that's not why I consider myself the best lay a girl could 
hope for.  The reason I'm the shogun of the bedroom is this: I 
know EXACTLY what a chick wants.

My advantage comes from the fact that I'm the first man in history 
to have felt exactly what girls feel.  I've had the luxury to 
experiment without humiliating myself or scaring or injuring any 
girls.

Before Oyaji dragged me to China, I was just like all the other 
jerks out there.  After all the cajoling, spending, beer, dope, or 
whatever it took to get a girl in the mood, I used to fumble my 
way through a scoring opportunity.  You know what I mean: 
squeezing her tits as if I were wringing the water from a sponge, 
sticking my finger in her as if I were picking my nose, and then 
expecting her to be turned on by all this nonsense.  No wonder 
they always seemed so unready when I'd finally slip them the meat 
and so relieved when it was all over.  I can't believe those early 
girls put up with me.  I look around at the kids in my class now 
and I can't believe that the girls put up with the clumsy shit 
high school guys do to them at the end of a date.

For me, all that changed when I got boobs and a box of my own to 
play with, to "train" on.  Without embarrassing myself, I was able 
to learn exactly where to touch and how often, how much pressure 
to apply and when, when slower is better than faster, and vice 
versa.  While Oyaji and I were trying to get out of China without 
being killed by Shampoo, I taught myself a hundred techniques for 
pleasing a woman.

I'm pretty much a hunk and that's helped me to score with more 
girls than the average dumb slob.  But after Jusenkyo, girls 
started coming on to ME with stunning frequency.  When we'd first 
arrived in China, without money or even basic language skills, I 
couldn't even get girls to share their opium with me.  So I had to 
rely on sloppy seconds with hookers that Oyaji occasionally hired.

But after I'd been cursed, and I'd begun to understand exactly 
what it takes to please a woman, girls suddenly found me a lot 
more appealing.  It was as if they knew, somewhere deep down, that 
I was the one guy in all the world with a fully operational gash.  
I didn't need any of Oyaji's cheap whores; beautiful Chinese girls 
were practically throwing themselves at me!

It is SO different having girls who really want to be had.  They 
do stuff for you, you know? They want their man to be happy.  So 
as we trekked across the eastern provinces, I had my first deep 
throat, my first ass, my first titty fuck.  I had heard about such 
things, but knew that with the uptight junior high girls I dated 
back home, I was lucky just to get their panties off.  But now I 
was having the time of my life in China, swimming in Lake Poontang.

I couldn't wait to get back to Japan.  Actually, I didn't even 
make it that far, leaving a trail of well-fucked island girls at 
our rest stops across the East China Sea.

Ironically, the first Tokyo girl I had after I mastered these 
techniques was one who apparently felt no need to be pleasured at 
all.  The night after we moved in with the Tendos, I was up late 
sitting on the roof and doing some blow.  Coke makes me horny as 
hell and twice as impatient, so I jumped down from the roof ready 
to go out and get some home town pussy.  I strolled around to the 
other side of the house and noticed the light on in the kitchen.  
I went back inside to see who was up so late.

Standing outside the kitchen, I saw Kasumi making a whole lot of 
food (there was some kind of neighborhood festival the next day).  
She wearing a very light house dress and, because she was between 
me and the brightest kitchen light, I could see her voluptuous 
silhouette through her clothes.  Driven by cocaine-inspired lust, 
I came up quietly behind her.  In a quick but smooth movement, I 
bent down to start kissing her neck, cupped my hands over her 
ample breasts, and pressed my erection against her pillowy ass.

As ever, Kasumi reacted calmly and sweetly.  "Maa! Ranma-kun, do 
you need some help?"

If I weren't coked up, her motherly manner probably would have 
made me instantly limp.  But the pocket samurai remained on 
alert as Kasumi took my hand and led me out of the kitchen and 
up to her room.  She sat me on her bed and piled up some 
pillows behind me, adjusting them until she was sure I was nice 
and comfy.  Then she knelt in front of me, primly removed and 
folded my pants and shorts, and proceeded to give me head like 
I've never had from any other girl.

It wasn't like Shampoo's blow jobs, which are extremely 
pleasurable, but very chaotic and sloppy, with a wild and 
bestial fervor.  Instead, Kasumi was so soft and gentle and had 
such precise timing, knowing exactly when to take me in her 
mouth and bob her head slowly up and down, when to work me from 
the outside with her skilled tongue and lips.  In other words, 
she brought to that blow job the same order, the same wholesome 
joy, and the same sense of duty that she applies to her 
housework.

After a few minutes of this royal treatment, I erupted like 
Krakatoa.  And I couldn't believe it: Kasumi swallowed every 
drop!  Despite the fact that I probably spewed about a pint of 
peckersnot, she wouldn't let a single slimy drop get on her 
frilly sheets and house dress.

Naturally, I went back to Kasumi for more the following nights, 
with oneechan gladly blowing me whenever I came to her with a 
boner.  As a bonus, she shared with me some of the bennies she 
gets by the crate from Tofu-sensei and eats like candy.  Nice 
stuff, but I try to take it easy on downers, lest they leave 
Mr. Happy too depressed.

Anyway, soon my martial artist's sense of obligation (read: 
macho ego) took charge and I decided that I had to give 
oneechan as much as she gave me.  When I told her that I wanted 
to make love to her, Kasumi replied, "Ranma-kun, that's so 
sweet!"  Something didn't seem right, but I dove right in 
anyway.  We petted for a while and I went down on her, showing 
off my new self-taught expertise in how to touch a girl.  Then 
I went for the gusto.

What a terrible mistake.

It wasn't that she was a lousy lay, quite the opposite.  
Kasumi's snatch was wet, warm, and inviting.  We moved well 
together and she held and kissed me lovingly.

Nor was it that my techniques failed.  Kasumi came at least 
four times, moaning softly and melodically then making some 
quiet and absolutely kawaii little gasps as she climaxed.  

It was the look on her face.

When Kasumi was sucking me off, she never looked me in the 
eye.  And I just didn't pay attention to her face when we were 
engaged in foreplay.  But when we were coupling, we were 
finally face to face and I was freaked out by what I saw.  She 
stared up at me with her big brown eyes and her sweet little 
smile and an expression that was ... well ... mindless.  I 
mean, it was like the lights were on and nobody was home.  It 
was like porking a mannequin or a kid's doll.

I almost lost my stiffy when I saw her joyfully oblivious 
expression, but I mustered up all my macho bravado, determined 
to finish the job.  I was gratified that Kasumi had so many 
orgasms.  My new skills were proven.  Mission accomplished.  
But that look on her face was a total turn-off: never again.  
Well, maybe some day, if I'm stoned enough ...

But I still go to oneechan for head now and then.  Since Ucchan 
and Nabiki never let me come in their mouths, and it's often 
tough to get Shampoo away from Mousse, it's nice to know I can 
always come home and put a new coat of whitewash on Kasumi's 
glottis.

After practicing my "anything-goes carnal arts" on oneechan, I 
took on Tokyo like my dick was on fire and the only water was 
16 cm inside the nearest woman.  I focused my attentions on 
other high schools and other wards, not wanting to have to deal 
with multiple paramours every day at Furinkan.

It didn't take long for me to re-learn one of life's central 
truths: Japanese girls are uptight as all hell.  I was really 
spoiled in China, where girls I met had a much healthier 
attitude about sex (that attitude can be summarized like this: 
Fuck Ranma well).  My Chinese sex partners were also much more 
sophisticated in the art.  I swear, girls in China are probably 
taught exotica like the Mongolian Cluster Fuck at the same time 
they learn how to cook rice.  But most of the sweet young 
things I bedded after returning to Japan had barely learned the 
basics.  

So I tried working college girls, but that was a little too 
challenging.  A lot of them felt weird about the age difference 
and the more open-minded coeds treated me like I was some kind 
of retard, a sexually advanced idiot savant.  I didn't have 
enough money to see the pros downtown as frequently as I'd 
wanted.  I began to despair, wondering if I'd have to swim back 
to China for the lusty fulfillment I required.

Then, in my darkest hour, my life was changed by a beautiful 
vision, like Moses' burning bush.  Except THIS bush was purple.

Now, Shampoo is far and away the most exciting lover I've ever 
had.  I have no problem admitting that.  Don't get me wrong, 
I'm not in love with her, though I'd never tell her that (not 
as long as I want to keep taking cookies from her jar).  But 
objectively, no girl I know is a wilder, more creative, more 
enthusiastic fuck than my Amazon dynamo.

I guess what's most appealing about Shampoo is that her body, 
in addition to being perfect in every way, seems to be one big 
erogenous zone.  I mean, no matter what part of her I rub, 
lick, or hump, she has a screaming multiple orgasm.  For 
example, Shampoo's the only one I've ever had or heard of who 
comes when she's fucked up the ass.  When I take a trip to the 
Outback, I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that the girl 
isn't going to get much pleasure out of it, unless I do a bunch 
of stuff to her tits and pussy with my hands.  In fact, it's 
likely that a girl will find anal sex uncomfortable or 
downright painful.  That's why I would never ask Ucchan to do 
it that way.  That's also why I like to bunghole Nabiki every 
chance I get (I know, I'm a bastard).

But Shampoo loves it!  She comes every time I do her anally, 
even if I don't do the bonus manual stuff to her.  To Shampoo, 
there's no difference where I'm touching her.  As long as some 
part of woda airen is rubbing up against her, Shampoo will get 
off.  The girl once came while she was blowing me, for crying 
out loud.  I wasn't even touching her and she wasn't touching 
herself either.  But it only happened that one time, so I 
assume it was because of whichever secret Chinese potions she 
brought to the futon that day.

That's another great thing about Shampoo.  While her herbal 
shit and black magic and whatever causes me unending trouble, 
I'm all for it in the sexual arena.  And though Nabiki is a 
great connection for regular drugs, she's never heard of some 
of the stuff Shampoo swipes from Obaba's locked cabinet.  There 
was the pineapple-flavored goo she put on her pussy one time.  
That night, I ate Shampoo from midnight till dawn - stopping 
only once to smoke some opium with her - and when morning 
arrived, her cunt wasn't all sore and raw and neither were my 
lips.  And there was that powder she put in my sake.  It must 
have turned half the fluid in my body to semen, because I came 
about a dozen times that night.  I shot huge loads in her 
mouth, in both her holes, between her tits, in her hands.  
Shampoo was soaked from head to toe.  I'm surprised she didn't 
transform.

You know what else turns me on?  When we're doing it, Shampoo 
starts to forget how to speak Japanese.  The more excited she 
gets, the more Mandarin (and regional dialect) she cries out.  
And she talks all through sex, praising and encouraging me in 
her rapid sing-song way, as if she were reciting the Nekohanten 
menu while she greases my pole.

To my exasperation (and secret delight), Shampoo gets a special 
kick out of screwing in public places.  And when you're talking 
about two world-class martial artists, "public places" doesn't 
mean alleys, parked cars, or amusement park rides.  We've done 
it atop a moving monorail, skiing down a slope, and hanging 
upside down from the observation deck of Tokyo Tower.  All in 
broad daylight.

And, obviously, Shampoo will do almost anything I can think of 
and has a knack for inventing stuff I could never conceive.  
Remind me sometime to tell you about the Trick with the 
Chopsticks, the Diagonal Doggy Position, or even the dreaded 
Rear Admiral.  The only escapade Shampoo has ever refused was a 
tryst with my girl half.  Now that's weird, because plenty of 
far less experimental lovers, like Ukyou, are turned on by the 
prospect of doing me both ways.  Maybe Shampoo feels some 
residual hatred for girl-Ranma, but more likely she's 
homophobic.  Anyway, the one time I tried to come to bed as a 
stacked redhead, she snapped her legs shut and ordered me to 
hit the showers.  Go figure.

I first did Shampoo as part of that harebrained "almost kill 
girl-Ranma" deal I worked out with her to protect Akane.  Even 
though I was scared shitless that cold water would splash on me 
from some unexpected source (as it usually does), it was the 
best lay I had had to that point.

But it was also a costly lay.  Because Shampoo hates Akane so 
much, she insisted that we do it on the roof above Akane's 
room.  Scared that we would wake Akane (just as Kodachi did 
that time), I tricked Shampoo so that we were actually a few 
meters away from Akane's room.

Right above Nabiki's room.  Oops.


continued in Part 2