In both sets of memories that he could recall from, Keitaro Urashima knew that his time at the Hina House was well defined by certain 'accidents'. Misunderstandings really, the sort of compromising situations that could be immediately and very understandably interpreted to be something that they weren't. Like when he stumbled and accidentally fell into one of the other girls, pulling open their clothing or accidentally hooking his thumb around her panties and removing them, things of that nature. He'd frankly lost count of the number of times he'd accidentally intruded on the girls privacy without meaning to, or stumbled, fell, or been otherwise launched into a place he knew he shouldn't be, or even just had such a situation literally fall onto him and been unable to realize what had happened until it was already too late to avoid everyone walking in on it and deciding it had to be exactly what it looked like.
Really, he didn't blame any of them for thinking that, if he didn't know first-hand he probably would have thought the same things. The way these situations seemed to seek him out as though they had a mind of their own was like something out of a cheap light novel or a goofy slapstick manga. He'd even lost count of them all... or at least he had up until just a few minutes ago. The count was currently one hundred and thirty two... at least all of the situations he could remember, which were admittedly split between two very different sets of memories. Most belonged in the set where Motoko was a curt, standoffish and fiercely independent girl and Naru was actually the Japanese girl that her stage-name implied her to be.
In the set of memories that seemed more accurate to the world he was presently in, he was certain Motoko would rather threaten to commit Seppuku (again) than intentionally or accidentally raise a hand against him... mostly because she'd done so a few times early on before becoming accustomed to his 'accidents'... A sense of nervous worry briefly crept over his mind as he thought of it all, and the urge to bashfully rub the back of his head was strong, but averted by his present inability to use his hands.
But the point that his mind was so nervously circling about was simply that absolutely none of those situations, those accidents, reminded him of this one, which seemed very much not to be an accident. With Mitsune's naked body straddling his own, and her very, very nice hips locked over him, her hands restraining his wrists overhead and out of the way as her hot alcohol-riddled breath warmed his mouth and her tongue seemed determined to train his own in the vaunted art of the open mouth kiss. Combined with the general haze of disorientation paradoxically caused by his newly clear memory(s), and his now very, very opinionated penis, it was no wonder that any serious thought of resistance had been short-circuited from his brain.
He wasn't actually the sort of pervert he so often seemed like, he never really wanted to see any of the girls embarrassed or humiliated or feeling any of the other emotions that his accidents had caused. And he certainly never would have wanted to coerce any of them, or anyone at all, into deviant sex acts, he was a nice guy! He didn't want to be that kind of perverted degenerate who groped unwilling women or anything like that!
He was, however... painfully aware of just how attractive that all of the women he spent his days surrounded by happened to be. Especially with the memory that, accidents or no, still left him perfectly able to recall just how supple and inviting they all looked, with or without clothing. Dressed or disrobed, they were all certainly girls whose sights could make even the most carnivorous of male appetites whetted with desire. Like a yakuza debt collector, his penis was pounding at the gates that were his pants and threatening to break straight through them to get what it wanted! And even the part of his brain still working, this very part, knew full well that it was nearly enough to make a man feel pent-up to the point of exploding!
Motoko with her paradoxically curt, standoffish 'strong girl' nature that kept him at a distance, yet aggressively devout and service personality complete with frilly outfit that just as strongly demanded attention. Kanako with her obviously obsessive affection for him that seemed plucked from some self-aggrandizing erotica. Mitsune with her playful personality and rocking body, both of which he was becoming acquainted with at this very moment. Even Kaolla and Shinobu, both definitely much too young to consider in that way at the moment but slowly budding into beautiful young girls of their own, one of which obviously with a crush on him. And then there was Naru... or Naru2? Gorgeous Japanese girl, or equally gorgeous blond foreigner. A studious girl as intent on Tokyo U as he was, or a literal world-famous celebrity he'd always been a fan of yet never thought he'd met in person until he'd somehow ended up on a first-name basis and living with them. The same name as he could remember from his promise, with the little blond... or brunette...
'Huh...', the whirling part in the back of his brain briefly spread throughout the rest of his mind as that little detail clicked into place. The moment of clear-headed introspection didn't last long however, as the throbbing rock-hard nature of his penis and the hot tension and booze-filled girl on top of him both seemed to say without speaking that he could consider his stupid revelations later. And so, outvoted, his mind tucked away that thought for latter and allowed his penis to take control again, focusing on the hot distracting drunk on top of him and the heavy thump of...
'...wait. Back up just a second there...', thought the landlord, and his memory rewound and replayed. “Naomi to the rescue!”, … thump!
For an instant, time seemed to slow down, Keitaro's brain employing its emergency Fight or Flight veto over his penis as his eyes snapped wide open. Thoughts of exactly this from just a few moments ago once more passing through his head. His eyes opened just in time to catch the feeling of Kitsune's lips being (slightly roughly) extricated from his own by force, a glimpse of a certain familiar foreign blond overhead as the drunk girl's presence disappeared.
“Huh?”, Mitsune said, as he just barely caught the confused expression before she also disappeared, her naked back thrust against the bedroom's nearest wall with a soft yet very unexpected thump. Internalized gyroscopes reestablishing a sense of orientation, the foxy girl blinked, the simulated fog of inebriation and sex on her mind both clearing up just a touch as she recognized the very unexpected change of variables... followed immediately by the sight of the blond pop star that was now pinning her against the wall.
“Who are you?! Some sort of evil body-snatcher? Or spirit? A shapeshifting alien here to snatch up our dopey landlord?!”, accused the idol, blue eyes narrowed and demanding answers as she focused on the very naked copy of her best friend. One hand against the girl-alien's collar and another held back in a raised and readied punch in case this thing tried anything funny!
The stripperbot blinked a few times, eyes opening as she stared at the human before her... and then a few drunken giggles began to slip from her.
Keitaro remained where he was for the moment, briefly feeling a state of shock as he continued to lay unmolested in every sense of the word and entirely uncertain of how he should feel about it given his experiences with every form of the word. He blinked a few times, and slowly reality filtered back into his senses, and he tilted his head back one way then the other. Up above him, he spied Mitsune, looking down at him through the opening in the ceiling. She offered a little friendly wave, then briefly her eyes widened as they drifted slightly downward. Reflexively, he pulled both hands down over himself, and she responded with a pout, then looked back over at...
Oh right, Naomi pinning Mitsune to the well, well he guessed that did... Keitaro looked back up at Mitsune looking down on them from above, then over at her being pinned to the wall by Naru, still naked and with Naru's very nice butt at a very inviting angle beneath her shorts. Looking back and forth a few times, Keitaro made a very respectable imitation of what Naomi herself had done less than a minute prior. A sense of confused surprise passing slowly through him.
“Mitsune?”, he looked back up one more time as he posed a question towards the ceiling-fox.
She raised her hand in greeting again, “Yo.”, she said simply.
Then he looked back at the other situation, with Naomi pinning Mitsune... Mitsune2(?)... to the wall.
Sat Oct 15 01:41:06 2016
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