10 Ways to Date a Perverted Monk
Rated: M (sexual content)
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.
AN: A small series of shorts with our favorite monk and slayer battling it out…with each other.
It had never occurred to her that it was going to be this difficult to cook a simple meal.
With the weather being odd lately, Sango and Miroku had stayed where they were at a local campsite in the woods nearby Mount Fuji. Kagome and the others were currently waiting for them at Kaede's village while they had finished up a quick extermination for a nearby village.
Sango was busily rushing her spoon into the pot to turn the stew when she felt a familiar hand gracefully landing on her bottom as if it was meant to be there.
"Monk," she growled trying her hardest to keep her temper down as she'd been having high blood pressure lately, "if you don't take that hand away, you won't have a hand to return."
Quickly she felt a fleeting hand leaving her body and she sighed in relief. Personally, she didn't like beating him up, oh she enjoyed hitting him it was just it wore her out a lot and she just didn't see the point anymore.
Some days it was easier fighting demons than fighting off that hand of his.
"I still don't know why we couldn't stay at the village instead of spending it out in the dark woods?" Sango asked, internally laughing when she heard the flinch behind her.
"Yes well, uh apparently the men of the village," The monk started on his latest rant that had nothing but lies in it which Sango didn't wish to hear, again.
"…didn't want you near their women with wandering hands," Sango quickly finished as she pulled the spoon up with a small portion of stew to her mouth to taste.
She frowned and added a bit more herbs in and turned to find Miroku watching her carefully. Normally, she wouldn't have paid much mind considering the man stared at her bottom a lot and acted as if he'd never done such a sinful thing.
Sango however wasn't buying it for a second.
When she didn't feel his eyes leave her, she turned. "What?"
Miroku blinked giving her an innocent look of wonder. "Pardon?"
"Why do you keep staring at me?"
The monk gave a small smile that did little to help her understand any of it, if anything simply baffled her more.
"Do you really believe me to be such a lecherous?" With total seriousness in his voice, Sango was beyond baffled.
She checked again to see if there were any hidden agenda's in the question but found nothing but brute honesty. He must have been playing with her.
"You're kidding me right?" When she found the monk lose his smile completely and that said it all. He wasn't playing a joke. He was dead a pan serious. "Miroku, you're…you can be a bit of lecher when ever a pretty girl pops up. It's something all of us come to know about you."
"So then what does that make you considering I want to wed you?" Miroku asked, while he massaged the hand that held the wind tunnel. "It's a habit of mine that's become quite hard to break. Every since I can remember, I've searched for someone to bear me an heir if I ever failed to kill Naraku. The fact that a monster, like Naraku could walk about the Earth, placing curses such as this on others; it fueled my pursuit and possible heir."
Well, that scenario had never come into play in her mind about the monk's ritual of groping, fondling and asking for an heir of every pretty woman.
But she knew that if Naraku isn't beaten in time, Miroku's line would die out with him.
"The stew is boiling over."
Sango came back out of her reverie to the monk pointing just behind her.
With his words registering in her mind, she turned to find that her stew had in fact started to boil over the sides. Damn it all! Why did she have such bad luck with food where Kagome had a knack for making food without any mess ups?
Just once she would greatly appreciate one thing that tasted good that she had made herself.
Taking the holder, Sango took the pot off the fire and put it to the side with a huff.
This was all Miroku's fault.
"Sorry I distracted you," She heard him apologize as she started to ramble on about never being able to concentrate on her cooking with monk's asking the weirdest questions.
Miroku chuckled as he watched Sango squeak when she nearly dropped another pot they'd brought in their equipment on her foot.
She was definitely entertaining to watch.
Even being a demon slayer, Sango was very much still a human woman who had a personality under all that armor of demon slaying.
He quickly caught her hand from accidentally touching the hot pot that still had the stew in it and pulled her back. "Calm down, it's alright. Besides, stew isn't my favorite food anyway."
Sango huffed again, blowing hair from her eyes as she tried not to think of Miroku's hands winding around her waist. Wait…they weren't on her bottom?
For once the man finally didn't touch her inappropriately! "Oh? And what makes you think I made the stew for you?"
Miroku laughed as he nuzzled his face against her neck, making her gasp. "A lucky guess I suppose."
Kissing her bare skin, he felt her shiver at his lips against her. It felt strangely satisfying to have her react to him like that.
Finding it hard to resist, he did it again and Sango shivered once more.
Miroku felt something groping his thigh and looked to find Sango groping him through his robes. Her hand fumbled as if looking for something to grasp.
Pulling back, the monk watched as the slayer's eyes opened and a blush heated her cheeks.
"Oh, Gods."
"No, oh Miroku is the correct name."
She glared at him under her long lashes as she tried to scurry back to cooking. Her hand reached for the pile that held their vegetable supply and started chopping them and throwing them into the extra pot. "You're not funny, monk."
Miroku watched as she added more water to the pot and mixed herbs in. Her fingers quickly made of the meat and once again another pot was placed over top of the fire. Sighing, Sango wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sat down.
She may make mistakes but cooking seemed to always diffuse her stress. Miroku came and sat beside her, watching the pot and then turning toward Sango. His eyes looked as they were trying to tell her something but she couldn't really concentrate with his leg brushing up against hers. Why couldn't she get any air? Was he torturing her on purpose? She caught from the corner of her eye his movement towards her and froze.
Miroku leaned over her, reaching his hand into the bag of salt. He pinched a good amount between his forefinger and thumb before pulling away from Sango's direction and threw the salt into the pot. "It helps it not boil away."
"Since when you do you know how to cook?" Sango asked once she realized what he had done. There was an unmistakable feeling of disappointment in her, but she pushed it back, not wanting to give it any notice.
Miroku lightly brushed his hands together, knocking away the remaining salt from his hand.
"Well, when you live with a drunkard like old Mushin, you tend to pick up ways of cooking. Otherwise I'd have starved to death or went broke from going out so much for food."
For some reason, Sango could never have pictured her monk a cook.
"I see. So maybe you can show me how not burn, over cook, or wash away the taste from my food." The slayer chuckled when Miroku gave her a cheesy grin that only Miroku could give.
It was odd, but Sango started to notice how he acted when around others but how differently he was with her. He seemed at ease when around her and something swelled inside with pride for that. Miroku had been there countless times when she needed some to talk and number of occasions helped her grieve with her slave ridden brother. Miroku, somehow, always seemed there for her since the day they met.
And there it was.
Sango was happy to simply be around the perverted monk, even when he couldn't keep his hands to himself. There were times she would wait for that damn hand of his to touch her so she could simply turn around and yell at him. She needed the contact; his attention.
A hand touched her cheek, turning her face to look into the deep blue eyes of the monk.
"I think we can worry about food later," With his other hand, Miroku pulled the woman in for a profound kiss that even made him shiver.
"Miroku," She whispered against his lips as he started in on her neck again. Leaving nips and kisses along her neckline, he brushed her kimono out of the way to lightly massage her breast inside and tease her nipple as he did with the salt.
Sango found herself moaning and couldn't stop, it was too much and her mind was overloaded with what Miroku was creating inside her body. She never felt anything like it as Miroku started to lower the rest of her kimono down, filling his hand with her pale orb.
He loved the feel of her skin against his, the way she moaned his name as he fondled her breasts. An idea poked into his head and Miroku smirked as he bent down toward her breast.
The woman's eyes snapped open as she felt something warm and hot envelope over her nipple. Glancing down, she watched as Miroku's head bobbed, sucking her nipple between his teeth. She couldn't help but become aroused by the sight.
Calloused fingers smooth down across her stomach, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Her lips trembled. "Miroku, we can't. The food and what if someone hears us?" Miroku kissed her navel, sending her thoughts bouncing about. She couldn't concentrate.
"I doubt anyone is out here," Miroku murmured when he noticed a spot he hadn't kissed. The slayer started to laugh when she felt his lips lightly graze her hip. "And I found something more delicious than food."
"Miroku stop that! It tickles. Miroku!" She could feel him laughing against her skin until he tenderly nibbled on her hip before venturing down into her lap.
The monk pulled back and unfastened the rest of her kimono then pushed her body down onto the ground as he placed himself in between her legs. Sango could already feel his erection pressed firmly against her and she gulped. They had slept together before, but not out in the open where who knows what could come walking in on them. She almost started to get back up when she felt something touch her lower region. Miroku placed his mouth against her folds, teasing them with his tongue as he felt Sango shudder.
It was a brilliant idea to toy with her until she was a total mess but if he didn't hurry, he wasn't sure if he would make it. Pressing his mouth to her folds, he started to work her, probing her with his tongue as he flicked it around and hit her clit. She gasped and moaned grabbing the ground, dirt clods forming under her nails as she tried her hardest not to scream.
Using his forefinger and thumb, Miroku pinched the hood of her nether lips. Sango couldn't stop the scream as it forced its way from her soul and out her throat as she came.
Licking her sweet juices, Miroku pulled himself up and disrobed. His cock felt like it would explode. He hoisted Sango's legs up over his shoulders before plummeting deep inside her.
Sango arched her back, her chest rising up as Miroku started to work his hips against hers. Beads of sweat started to trickle down his temples as they continued to push in and out. Miroku let her legs fall from his shoulders and place them under his arms as Sango wrapped hers around his abdomen.
All too soon, Miroku heard Sango scream his name as he felt her walls tighten around him and soon he followed after her. They collapsed on the ground.
"If that's how you teach cooking a stew, I'd love to know how you teach cooking a whole dinner." Sango panted then laughed when Miroku was surprised by her hidden compliment.
"I'd prefer you over food though Sango." He chuckled when Sango's face lit up with a blush. The monk bent down and kissed his fiancé's lips. Yep, he could definitely get used to this.
Sango meanwhile was trying to figure out what in the world they were actually going to eat as she caught sight of the stew once again boiling over the side of the pot.
At this rate, they'd go hungry.
fin