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Fic - "Watch As We Fall" | J2 | NC-17

Watch As We Fall
J2; Adult; 4200 words
The thing is, Jensen's really, really nice.

Notes: Thanks muchly to the ever awesome nu_breed and glendaglamazon for the betas. Two thumbs up. Will use again. This was written for my one-year anniversary of J2 fic. Yes, I'm self-involved enough that the only person I really write fic for is myself. Um, I hope you enjoy!

So. Yeah. The thing about Jensen is he's shy, right, but he's also really fucking nice; some might go so far as to call him chivalrous. Mama raised him right, and all that jazz. He's the kind of nice that holds open doors for everyone, doesn't kiss and tell, and would probably carry grocery bags across the street for little old ladies, if there were any shuffling around. He's the kind of nice that breaks up with girls and still has pictures of them up on his mantle. Like Danneel, for example; he broke it off with her over three months ago, only she still has him on speed dial for days when she's feeling down. When Jared and Sandy called it quits she sold everything he ever touched on EBay. Jensen, on the other hand, got a fucking life-long friendship out of his breakup.

The other thing about Jensen? He's really, really pretty. This isn't uncommon knowledge or a big surprise to anyone, but it's still true. Still out there. Jensen is really good looking, with his ridiculous green eyes and stupid puffy mouth, and that one-two combination: pretty and nice, well, it gets Jensen in trouble sometimes.

Like right now. Jared's been folded into a booth at Jack's Pub and Grill for over thirty minutes, alone with Bob and Jeff from lighting as the two drone on and on about Stargate Atlantis. And sure, Jared's a fan of fantasy – it's his bread and butter, after all – but he can only take so much of it. He's been waiting, very patiently, thank you very much, for Jensen to get his ass back to the table so Jared can have something to do other than nod and smile, but that seems like a lost cause.

He slides out of the cracked leather booth. This place isn’t far from set, and they're here enough that the novelty has worn off for most of the regulars. He doesn't really get many glances as he makes his way to the back, where Jensen is belly up to the bar and smiling brightly at a guy about Jared's height who's wearing a really sharky grin.

The dude's crowded in real close to Jensen, like he's trying to keep Jensen all to himself, like they might as well just breathe the same bar-stale air, and the way he's looking down at Jensen? Well, it's pretty clear he doesn't have the football game beaming from the TV on his mind. His beady eyes are zeroed in on Jensen's lips. As Jensen says something and gestures with his beer bottle, the guy nods like he's a bobble-head and smiles so widely his teeth glint.

Jensen's getting smiled like that by a lot of guys, lately.

And the thing is, Jensen can take care of himself, no problem. The first bar fight Jared had ever actually been in, Jensen was right there beside him, slamming his fist into some guy's nose and his elbow into another guy's gut. So, yeah, Jensen can totally fend for himself. He doesn't need Jared going all John Wayne on some stupid dude's ass to protect Jensen if the guy should get a little fresh. It's only –

It's only, it's been happening a lot more, this thing where Jensen's such a nice guy, incapable of telling some dude to fucking back off, that Jensen keeps ending up crowded into corners and leaned over against bars, as guys so clearly size up his mouth and his ass, and he never does anything about it.

Jared doesn't even hesitate. Drink in hand, he all but sidles up to the bar just in time to hear Jensen say, "Yeah, absolutely, man. I'd love to check it out. I was thinking about having one installed, actually."

The guy looks seriously thrilled. Jared resists the urge to push him over. Instead he slides a long arm around Jensen's broad, relaxed shoulders, and leans right over, pressing his face sloppily against Jensen's cheek.

"Hey, dude, what's up?" Jensen asks. His voice is rumbly against Jared and he brings a hand up to pat at Jared's shoulders.

Jensen smells like his familiar spicy cinnamon aftershave and icy cold wind. Jared's gotten real good at playing drunk. He slurs his words a little when he murmurs, "'M tired. Wanna go t' bed." It's loud enough that the dude still staring at Jensen like he's a chocolate bon bon will hear and get the picture, and quiet enough to be intimate. The together hangs there between them all, unspoken.

Jensen doesn't even bat an eye. "Yeah?" he says. "You were perfectly sober when I left, man."

"Shots," Jared lies. He rolls his head a bit, resting it on Jensen's shoulder, as he glares up at the dude Jensen's talking to. "Let's go home." He's perfectly aware of how this looks, and Jared's insides give a little thrill when Jensen just nods, like this is an everyday thing, like Jared always searches Jensen out when he's ready to go home.

"Alright, man, let's take you home." Jensen extracts himself from Jared's arms, though he keeps a hand on the small of Jared's back, as if to keep him steady. He extends the other hand. "Ryan," he says, "it was real nice to meet you."

Ryan's pretty gracious about the whole thing. He doesn't even let the smile drop from his face. He just shakes Jensen's hand and says the invitation's always there and then takes a step back, meeting Jared's eyes as if saying no harm meant, man. Jared thinks maybe he should be insulted on Jensen's behalf because there's something in Ryan's manner that suggests he thinks Jensen's Jared's property. Instead he just gives Ryan a mean, toothy grin and lets Jensen herd him out of the bar into the bitter cold air, breathing in so deeply it burns his lungs and wondering if he and Jensen need to have a talk.

It doesn't happen again for two weeks. This time they're in LA, and it's Ed Westwick's birthday, so it's a private club filled with about six hundred of Ed's closest friends. Jared's familiar with about half the faces in the place, most of them on the dance floor bumping and grinding to some truly awful music that's loud enough to feel like he's getting waked in the face every time the bass pulses, and when he gets back from the bathroom where two guys he recognizes from the remake of 90210 were snorting blow, he finds that Jensen has left their table empty.

He squints through the strobe lights and fog machines, and really, what is this, 1996? Who the fuck has fog machines anymore? He searches through the dark and finally spots Jensen sitting at another table, cradling a Jack and Diet in one hand and leaning close to some dude with bright blond tips who's got a hand on Jensen's shoulder. Even from where he is, through the fog and the darkness, Jared can see the guy sizing Jensen up, eyes moving quickly, almost frantically, from Jensen's mouth to the open button of his black, collared shirt before focusing on Jensen's eyes real hard, like he's listening intently to whatever it is Jensen's talking about.

Jared's pretty sure the guy's about to make a move, and his hand is still on Jensen's shoulder.

He leaves his drink on the empty table, schools his face into something resembling a smile, and pushes through the crowd, finally coming to a stop right beside Jensen's chair. He bends down to grab the drink out of Jensen's hand, letting his thighs rest against Jensen's side, and feels a little kick when Jensen doesn't move away from the contact.

He sucks about half of Jensen's drink down in one go, feeling Jensen's eyes on him the whole time, before bending down low enough that Blondie has to move his damn hand off Jensen's shoulder to get out of Jared's way.

"This place is lame," Jared yells over the thumping bass. He gives Blondie a pointed glare. "Let's get the fuck out of here. Go home; maybe play some Guitar Hero before bed."

Jensen's eyebrows scrunch together with confusion. He gives his watch a pointed look, and for a second Jared thinks he's gonna turn him down, and then Jared's gonna feel really fucking stupid. Jensen, though, just gives Jared a nod, confusion still written all over his stupidly pretty face.

Jared doesn't even bother hiding his predatory smile as Jensen shakes Blondie's hand and stands up. For a brief second, Jared stays put, so Jensen's chest brushes against his. They leave without telling anyone goodbye, and Jared keeps his hand on Jensen's shoulder. It's easy to get lost in this crowd.

Once outside, Jensen says, real quiet, "You gotta stop doing this, man," but Jared makes a big show of trying to locate his cell phone, and pretends like he can't hear him above the quiet of the parking lot.

Last week Jared had tried to think of a tactful way to ask Jensen if he had suddenly turned gay.

The conversation had gone something like this:

Jared: You got anything you wanna tell me?
Jensen: You have a specific topic in mind, Jay, or are we going off the cusp?
Jared: Guys.
Jensen: You want to talk about guys.
Jared: Well, I was actually thinking maybe you wanted to talk about 'em.
Jensen: You want me to talk about guys.
Jared: Only if you want to.
Jensen: Did you fall down and hurt your brain?

And Jensen had looked at him like he'd maybe grown another head, but with this smirk playing around his mouth, like he knew something Jared didn't, which was obviously the case. Finally, Jared had just mumbled never mind and pretended he was real interested in the fried chicken being served for lunch, not at all paying attention to the way Jensen's fingers curled around a carrot stick. Jensen let it go with a shrug, for which Jared was mostly grateful.

This time, after he untangles himself from some girl named Chrissy or Misty or Erin at the bar to find yet another empty table, he's not really even surprised to spot Jensen crowded into a corner, a guy a little taller than him with a red baseball cap and narrow hips nodding thoughtfully down at Jensen.

Jared's all set to swoop in, Jensen's fucking white knight, but he hesitates for just a minute. Jensen's got his back pressed against the corner wall, a Labbatt Blue neon light right above his head that shines brightly on him, highlighting his face as his eyes narrow thoughtfully at the guy. Jensen's shoulders are broader than the guy's, and he could easily take him down with one well-aimed right hook. But what happens is this:

The guy fakes a shove from someone behind him. It's not a good fake, he's not being subtle about it, and suddenly Jensen's got a chest full of dude, and their hips are lined up pretty neatly. Instead of taking a swing though, Jensen reaches out to steady him, big hands that Jared has seen wield a hammer and cock a gun and caress movie scripts like they were a woman's thigh - one of those hands curls briefly against the guy's hip.

They really look like they're gonna go for it. Jared can see how it'll play out. Jensen's mouth'll twist in a quirky grin, and his laugh'll rumble out. The guy'll bend low, maybe whisper something inane, something like you wanna get out'a here? and Jensen won't even hesitate before he nods.

They'll go back to the guy's place, because Jensen can't really risk bringing some dude home to his condo, and the guy'll have black cotton sheets that he'll spread Jensen out on, all pale, freckled skin; he'll probably suck Jensen's cock and kiss his mouth and tell him how fucking hot he is. Maybe he'll even fuck Jensen, get him on all fours and slide slick and greedy into him.

Jared gets all that from Jensen's hand resting briefly on the guy's hip, and when Misty or Chrissy or whatever the fuck her name is walks by, he takes her up on the offer in her pretty red smile.

Twenty minutes later, she's on her knees in front of him, kneeling on his jacket so her skin doesn't get scraped up (he can be a gentlemen, too, he thinks), and he tries really hard to keep his eyes open, to stare at the top of her head bobbing up and down, so he doesn't let his eyelids drop to the image of needy green eyes as his orgasm cuts through him.

When he finally exits the bathroom, he's not surprised to find that Jensen's long gone.

Two days later they're on set, in the makeup trailer alone because Jeanie stepped out five minutes ago, and Jared's never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

"What the fuck happened to you at Jack's?"

Jensen's examining himself in the mirror, electric razor buzzing as he gets ready to give himself his usual Dean-stubble. He glances over at Jared, all wide-eyed confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Where'd you go?"

"I went home, dude. Anyway, I think the important question is where did you go?" Jensen turns back and brings the razor up to his cheek, though his eyes stay focused on Jared in the mirror.

Jared gives a noncommittal answer. That's not the important question at all. The important question is this: "Did you let him fuck you?"

Jared can see Jensen's reflection. He watches Jensen's eyes go a fraction bigger and watches Jensen's mouth thin into a straight line. Jensen switches the razor off, and the silence in the trailer is loud.

"Who's him?" Jensen asks, but even through the mirror, Jared can tell Jensen's aiming for casual and missing the mark.

"Look," Jared hisses, whispering furiously in case any interested party is eavesdropping outside. "If you're having a big gay epiphany, maybe you ought to let me know, that's all I'm saying."

Jensen whirls around. He's still holding the razor. Jared watches him swallow. What Jensen says is something of a shock. "Why the fuck is it any of your business?" he asks, and his tone is perfectly even, like he's asking Jared about the weather.

Jared feels like he got punched. He feels like he got the wind knocked out of him. The anger rises up quickly. "Are you kidding? If my co-star suddenly decides he likes riding dick and then goes out to bars in Vancouver like it's fucking West Hollywood, I think I have a right to know."

Jensen stares at him for a moment. Jared almost wants him to throw a punch, but Jensen just turns back to the mirror and flips on the razor again. Above the buzzing, he says, "I wouldn’t have expected you to be such a homophobic prick, man," like he's disappointed.

"Yeah, why the hell not?"

In the mirror, Jensen meets his eyes again. "You figure it out," he says, like that's any sort of answer. He moves his gaze back to the mirror and lifts his chin a little to make his neck taut. Jared's about to ask him what the fuck he's supposed to figure out, but Jeanie comes back in with a tubful of fake blood and orders Jared to sit down before he can say anything at all.

Jared feels like he's missing something really important, but he can't figure out what it is.

They got to set at noon and stayed 'til eleven, and most of the shoot was spent running from point A to point B thirty six times, all the while reciting nearly eight pages of dialog.

After his shower, Jared brings a peace offering in the form of a joint to Jensen's trailer, and they smoke it, hotboxing in the freezing car before they go meet up with Welling and Steve, a pretty regular director on Smallville.

Jensen and Jared are in the booth by themselves, both with a bottle of pretentious imported beer in front of them. Welling's going through a pretty messy divorce and he's always got his phone pressed up against his ear with his publicist or his manager or his soon-to-be ex-wife yelling at him through the ear piece, trying to keep his name out of the rags. Twenty minutes ago he excused himself with a put upon sigh, glancing glumly at his vibrating cell. Steve's over at the pool table chatting up a hot little number who's pretty much crushing him at a game of eight ball. Jared and Jensen are both enjoying the show.

The place isn't too crowded, just after midnight on a Tuesday night, and Jared lets his thighs fall open heavily, no big deal, until he's pressed right up against Jensen. This isn't anything new – touching, comfortable with one another. He's feeling loose and pretty fucking high, and his hand sort of falls on Jensen's leg, where the muscle's real hard. And yeah, that's maybe a little bit new.

Beside him, it's like Jensen has stopped breathing, and Jared's own chest feels packed tight with cotton, like every time he takes a breath, he's getting no oxygen at all. He moves his hand, just a little, like maybe he's gonna pull back but doesn’t and instead ends up smoothing his fingertips across Jensen's expensive designer jeans. Jensen's thigh is hot and stiff, and out of the corner of his eye, Jared can see Jensen blinking quickly.

Welling plops down across from them and Jared pulls away so fast he thinks maybe he's strained a muscle. "Fucking women," Welling murmurs. "You two wanna hit some Cuervo?"

Jared shakes his head quickly, feeling his face heat up. He blinks thickly and thinks, fuck. It's a second before he can trust his voice to speak.

"No, man," he can hear Jensen answer. "I, uh, got an early call tomorrow. Think I'm gonna head out. Rain check?"

Welling looks a little disappointed, but he doesn't put up a fuss. He hoists his eyebrows up into his hairline and casts a look at Jared. "Jay, man, you up for some booze?"

Jared shakes his head. He can feel Jensen's eyes on him. "I'm gonna call it a night, too." He forces himself to meet Jensen's eyes. "Can you give me a ride?"

Jensen licks his lips thoughtfully, and Jared feels heat sweep across the back of his neck. He's more than a little relieved when Jensen agrees with a slow nod.

"Suit yourselves, fuckin' pussies," Welling says good-naturedly, and he's up and out of the booth, yelling something to Steve about needing a real man to hang out with.

Jensen's car still smells like weed. The radio's on low when the engine starts up, but Jensen cranks the volume up, probably so they won't have to talk. Jared stares out the window and watches the snowy night glide by, moonlight that glints off wet, brown slush, and misses Texas so quickly and fiercely he has to hold his breath to keep from making a sound.

It's a fifteen minute drive to Jared's place, and before Jensen even has the car thrown into park, Jared looks at him with his eyebrows raised up and says, "You comin' in?"

The engine shuts off, and their feet make crunching noises in the snow on the way to Jared's garage, where he punches in the code.

Sadie and Harley greet them both with a whole lot of enthusiasm, and to distract himself, Jared makes a big show of filling both their water dishes. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Jensen bends down to whisper, "Hey, girl, how are ya?" real low, right in Sadie's dog-breathy face.

After Sadie and Harley bound out the sliding back door, and Jared flips on the kitchen light and grabs two beers out of the fridge, handing one silently over to Jensen, he presses his back against the counter and forces himself to meet Jensen's eyes.

Jensen opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but shuts it quickly. He slips off his jacket and seems very, very invested in hanging it smoothly over the back of one of the stools pushed up against the granite island in the middle of the kitchen.

Jared takes a sip from his beer and watches Jensen. Finally, Jensen sighs. He brings his gaze up and meets Jared's eyes across the expanse of the kitchen. His beer sits unopen on the counter. "We gonna talk about it?"

"Did you go home with him?" Jared asks, almost immediately. There's no use pretending it hasn't been weighing heavily on his mind all night.

This time, Jensen doesn't fake like he's clueless. "Would it matter if I did?"

Jared shrugs and scrapes at the label of his bottle with a blunt fingernail.

Jensen says, "Jay?"

Jared shrugs again. "It might matter," he mumbles. "Did you?"

There's a long pause before Jensen finally says, "No, I didn't," and Jared feels himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Jensen continues, "I'm not saying I maybe didn't want to, but – "

"But what?" Jared feels like he's hanging on every word now. He lifts his gaze away from his beer bottle to find Jensen's eyes are heavy on him.

"Jesus, Jay, if you haven't figured it out by now…."

"So you are having a big gay epiphany."

Jensen gives a laugh that sounds a little like it hurts. "Might be," he says. "Would it matter to you?"

Jared abandons his beer on the counter and shifts forward, leaning onto his elbows over the island and looking Jensen square in the face. "'Course it would matter," he says.

Jared pushes himself away from the island and moves the three steps it takes to stand in front of Jensen. Jensen has to tilt his head back a little to meet Jared's eyes, and Jared lets a small smile twist his lips. He says, "If you haven't figured that out by now," and watches Jensen nod almost imperceptibly to himself, as if making a decision.

The thing about Jensen is, once he's made a decision, he doesn't do it half-assed. That's something that Jared really, really likes about him.

The first kiss isn't like any first kiss he's ever had, but then again, Jared's never kissed a dude before. Jensen's lips are hard, and he tastes a lot like beer and a little like pot. His shoulders are wide and his hands are big. There's stubble and a hard chest that pushes up against Jared, and Jared's whole body trips to hard fuck yes now faster than he can beg for it.

He's actually pretty damn surprised they make it to his bedroom. Jensen makes these sounds, these rumbly sex-sounds, half frustrated, half breathy come ons, and Jared sets out to map all his freckles, intent on seeing how many noises he can wring from Jensen's throat.

They don't even bother to get naked before their dicks are lined up, and it's the friction that sets them off. Jensen has one big sweaty hand wrapped around them both, and Jared slides through it, cock leaking pre-come, as he tries to kiss Jensen but ends up pretty much just breathing against his mouth as he pushes his hips frantically against Jensen, too turned on to do more than squeeze his eyes shut and stutter Jensen's name.

The orgasm comes fast and quick, and it feels like he's been waiting on it forever. It leaves him sagging bonelessly against Jensen's body, too blissed out to even do more than clean them up with a discarded t-shirt before falling fast asleep, his arm thrown casually over Jensen's shining chest.

Jared wakes up to an empty spot beside him in his big bed. Even with the blankets pulled up around him like someone tucked him in, he feels cold. He spends the morning in his guestroom turned gym, alternating between wanting to throw up and worried that maybe, for Jensen, the big gay epiphany is over, even though Jared feels like for him it's just begun.

He's due on set at eleven, and because he and Jensen live so far away from each other, they rarely get to ride into work together anymore. Sally picks him up at 10:30, and Jared sits in the back, pretending to study his script so he doesn't have to talk.

They pull into the lot at five 'til eleven. When Jared walks into his trailer, Jensen's already there, sitting on his couch. Jared feels a smile break on his face before he thinks better of it. Maybe Jensen's here to tell him they made a mistake, but the way he quickly stands and nervously wipes his hand on his thigh tells Jared something else. Jared lets his smile linger. The thing about Jensen, Jared figures, is that he knows Jared better than just about anyone else.

Jensen smiles back. "You figure it out?" he says.

Jared nods.

The end.

(Deleted comment)
Aug. 25th, 2008 12:33 pm (UTC)
*beams* THANK YOU, baby. *smooches*


tagSci-Fi & FantasyFull Bloom in Winter

Full Bloom in Winter

Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2010

This story, like most of my others, is based in current fantasy game settings and I tend to favor more "evil" personalities. Please be warned that this particular story has heavy incest overtones which are appropriate in defining the characters. If you've read "The Fiendish Codex II: Tyrants of the Nine Hells," this should not seem out of place.

If that is not to your taste, I have given fair warning. The rest, please enjoy.

Indrath Rousse, Lord of the Arcanum and the foundation of control within the icy city of Winter Home, was scrying on his daughter. He still felt the acute thrill and almost fierce pride as he regularly tasted her dreams these past two years and knew she had begun to awaken. He had seen the signs of the Ardeur—that which would become the source and fuel of her magic, as it was in himself. The Ardeur had begun to mature within her body.

Perhaps he'd sensed it before that point, and perhaps he'd always hoped for it.

Now he knew for certain: unlike some of his earlier offspring, she would—in truth—become like him.

Lady Indra was named for her father, sheltered and raised by him and his loyal servants in Rousse Manor. She was Fey'ri, and she had received a fine education exploring both of her heritages—diabolic and elven—as well as that of the city which may become her own with time, if not in name, then in its politics and economics and resources.

In practice, however, she had known mostly leisure and play. Indulgence and affection were hers in abundance as her powerful parent doted on her youthful desires during the first century of her life.

Now those desires were to mature and swell, and very rapidly, if Indra's current enthusiasm was any indication.

He could see through his scrying circle into his daughter's bedroom. Her head and shoulders rested on her pillow, and her devil-red rear end raised up in the air as she kept her knees wide. Her maroon wings stretched out to the sides and were trembling as she used a smooth wooden phallus to repeatedly violate the netherhole just beneath her prehensile tail, which was lashing side to side in an excited S-curve. Her clawed fingers tapped and rubbed at her mound in a most knowing way. Scrying did not normally allow for sound unless he put much more power into it, but still he could see her lips parted and her blank, yellow eyes half-closed. He could imagine the small squeals and canine whimpers as she wallowed in the pleasure which was fast becoming her power.

In spite of all his abilities and influence, in spite of his connections and privilege, he soon had to accept that he must rely on others to satisfy her properly, to protect her and allow her to explore her nature so that her development was not hindered.

Jealous heat settled more frequently in his middle these days at the reflection, but he knew the necessity. There was no doubt in Lord Indrath's mind that the dreams he'd been sending his daughter would not keep her satisfied for much longer.

If she were to leave the Manor to find that which she craved...? He shuddered to think of what might happen.

So he was responsible for finding her first lovers. They must be skilled, well-formed, with better-than-average endurance, for she would be hungry. They must not quail at the thought of whose daughter they penetrated and marked with their seed, but nor must they take too much pride in that fact. These would be difficult to find, but Indrath knew they existed. He had one or two in mind to start.

"Enter, daughter."

Indrath could see her nipples through the thin, purple gown that she'd donned in her hurry to answer his summons. He could see the brightness in her eyes, feel the distracted air, and he could hear the frustrated, grumbling animal much lower in her consciousness. She made sure the door of his study latched behind her before she came forward with the grace of her station.

He had interrupted her self-dalliance on purpose.

As Indra drew nearer to his broad, luxurious desk, he could also smell her. She was likely still wet between her thighs, with nothing on beneath the gown, which was a close shade to her own mid-length, violet hair. It would seem the apple of his eye hoped this meeting would be quick so she might return to her quarters and not have to resort to the apothecary's lubricants to begin exploring again.

*My dear, you are so exquisite. And so much like me,* he thought privately.

"You sent for me, Father?"

His trained ear could detect the husky quality easily, the slight quaver. She was no doubt so sensitive by now—enhanced by being drawn away from relative privacy and into the presence of others who may not know how her soft inner thighs were slick against each other. He did not figure it would take much to get her to accept what he wished of her.

He smiled genuinely and warmly, knew well by now the effect it had on her, and he could almost hear her heart trip when he stepped around the large oak desk, opening his arms. "Yes, my heart's gift."

She was stiff for the slightest moment as he embraced her—this was unusual, as she normally fell greedily into any hug he offered—and he thought he knew why. She was just that small bit confused: she was aroused, and he smelled good and warm, and he loved her. The pulse of desire manifested in a brief thought that he glimpsed in her mind through their blood connection: she would lay upon his desk, her tail curling around his thigh as her legs opened wide, and she would have him.

He had only to ask.

*Ask me...* That lower consciousness of hers whispered seductively to him. *Take me. Make me feel good, I know you can.

*I trust you.*

He had not been so challenged in many years. It took more strength of will than he cared to admit to resist her unspoken plea, to withdraw gently and smile down at her, touching her cheek.

"Indra," his voice was smooth and magnetic, demanding attention whether he was declaring an order or coaxing a sacrifice into his bed or onto his altar. "I have brought someone for you."

Lord Indrath stepped back a little more and gestured to the silent man who had been seated before and had stood up upon Indra entering. Both of them knew she had not even noticed him in the presence of her powerful parent and her own distraction, but she did now.

Her pupilless eyes raked over him, seeing only a human man—complete with round ears, not pointed like her own—of tall stature, taller than her, and a fighter's build. His skin, like many natives of Winter Home, was very pale, and the hair on his head was fair, a lovely thick gold, cut short, his crisp chest hair peeking through his shirt only somewhat darker by comparison. His typical round, human eyes where white with warm brown irises, giving her the impression of depth, as if a devil could look into him without trying to pluck out his thoughts from the ether.

As humans went, he was reasonably handsome, but not stunning, not exotic. He wore cured leather breeches and a black belt, tough outdoor boots, and an attractive, blue, long-sleeved shirt appropriate for the climate, though his fur cloak or coat must be hung elsewhere, for it would not be nearly warm enough outside. He was forgettable in a room of extraordinary and powerful members of the Arcanum or the Guilds, but would make most women of his race smile as they looked upon him, his strength and height working in his favor if he was presented as a potential stud.

The man bowed at the waist and lowered his eyes. "Lady Indra."

Indra seemed to understand during the pregnant pause which followed. This may actually be what her father was presenting her: a stud. Her gaze shifted from the blonde man back to her father, eyes a little wider now. Indrath grinned at her, seeing her youth—excited at the potential but momentarily at a loss what to do—and his wings that matched hers flexed and rustled a bit as he shifted yet another step away from her and gestured for the blonde man to come forward.

"Daddy—" she began as if to protest, but then the man kneeled down in front of her and took the hem of her slim, thin gown and began to lift it.

Once the silk reached her knees, his hands clasped the material to her thighs and kept sliding it upward, shuffing and gliding over the deep red skin. The blonde head disappeared just beneath the bunched fabric, his mouth pressing to her crotch but out of direct view of anyone in the room. Indra's expression, however, told it all—shock, bewilderment, then utter, enraptured pleasure.

"Oh..." She quivered, trying to keep her feet as her knees grew less stable.

Indrath watched, wishing he could take the shoulder straps of her V-necked gown and pull them down. Her breasts clearly wished to be released of their confines as they strained before his eyes. But...that was not his place tonight. Not tonight.

The man's left hand abandoned its place holding up her gown as it moved between his daughter's legs. Indrath could feel Indra's sensations dart through the air as the blunt, thick finger pushed into her ripe core. By the sound of it...yes, she was still quite wet from her activities prior to her summoning.

Indra cried out and hunched over as she again had to work to keep her balance. Her jaw was slack and hands finally moved to touch the man's blonde hair, her clawed fingers combing through it and applying gentle pressure to keep his mouth in place. All this as she still stared at her Father several paces away.

*I'm impressed, daughter, that you can still reach me this way.*

*You want...this?*

*That is immaterial. Do you want this?*

Her head nodded almost immediately, her eyes still wide and expressing awe. *I ache...I've been aching...so often. My dreams do not feed me anymore. I want this, I just...didn't know how to ask.*

Indrath relaxed his own tightly-controlled aura just a little, letting his potent energy mix with that hot, chaotic turmoil surrounding his offspring. She gasped and finally her eyes closed. Her body trembled and her wings did a reflexive flap as she uttered a rougher sound, lusty and growling. "Yes..."

The Fey'ri Lord had to take another step back from the pair in order not to become ensnared but gestured again, this time to his desk. "Balance yourself, daughter. You must show some control."

Indra clearly didn't want to move or to stop; she looked instead as if she would rather drop to her knees right there on the floor. She began to sink.

*Control.* His mental demand caused an additional shudder to go through her.

*What...difference does it make?* She struggled to send the thought to him, her mind's voice sluggish as lush, sloppy sounds came from beneath her dress.

*Because you are Lady Indra Rousse, my daughter. You will indulge in this, you must, and you will enjoy every moment. But either you will control the Ardeur, or it will control you. Every lover will be watching, they will see each time you succeed and each time you fail. If you don't remember your failures and your successes as well as they will, you will not last long in Winter Home.

*And I will not lose you that quickly.*

Trembling now, blinking at him as her play had just gotten more serious, Indra sucked in a breath and clenched her fingers into the blonde man's hair, tugging on it and trying to step back. He responded like a suckling pig refusing to leave his sow's teat, burrowing his head further in, his jaw working as he mouthed her, his fingers still embedded in her twat and his free hand still gripping her thigh. She looked at her father helplessly for a moment, and he frowned back at her.

Her Lord's disapproval was enough to cool her fires that little bit. She got a new grip on the man's hair and yanked hard, causing him to cry out in pain. "Come," she said hoarsely, "take your hand from me and follow me."

The lower half of the man's face glistened, as did his left hand, as he leaned back to let her dress drop and he blinked up at her, his gaze as hazy with lust as any Domination spell she'd ever witnessed. To her knowledge, however, no such spell had been cast on him.

She still held onto his hair as she stepped on wobbly legs closer to her father's desk, and the man crawled, seeming quite willing to follow that way. She noticed he kept his three wet fingers on his left hand from actually touching the floor. He hoped to put them back inside, perhaps.

When she reached the desk, she first started to settle onto her elbows, bent at the waist and presenting her backside to the blonde man. Then she looked almost nervously over her shoulder toward her father; perhaps he wouldn't approve—?

Her father was gone.

She looked toward the other side of the study, over her other shoulder, trying to locate him. Then she looked back around again. She couldn't see him no matter where she looked.

Indra was trying to decide if he'd left or merely made himself invisible—she was having difficulty sensing his aura at all— when she felt the blonde man raising her dress again, this time sliding his hands along the backs of her thighs. He exposed most of her buttocks and she immediately felt his mouth on her again, gently biting and sucking on her as his hands massaged and squeezed the fiery-colored globes. Her tail automatically curled upward toward her spine, hovering over her back as the last bit coiled around itself, quivering alongside her breathing.

*Ohhh...feels good...*

Lord Indrath hadn't left, of course; she only could no longer sense him nor see him. He would not leave his daughter entirely to something so new and powerful without a protector, a watcher. Tonight, he was that protector. If all went well, the man currently swirling his tongue between his daughter's cheeks may take on that role, for a short time, until he trained a more powerful guardian.

But for now, she didn't need to be certain he was watching.

Just as in the dreams Indrath had sent her, just as he'd known she would, Indra slowly relaxed and gave in to the Ardeur. She rested her torso on the desk and reached back both hands to pull her buttocks further apart, breathy and demanding the blonde human take full advantage of the access to her depths.

Indrath, knowing he'd have to practice this many times, soothed the protective and jealous heat when the man did as she bid him, his fingers plunging back into her and his tongue spearing her rosebud. Now Indrath could hear what he hadn't been able earlier; she was shrieking and squealing in pleasure, gasping and cooing, her body demanding more.

Her power—once she learned to build, focus and control it—would be formidable. Tonight, however, she would simply be taken while awake, for the first time in her young life. It was a formality at this point; she had already used many false phalli in every hole, knew what to expect, her mind had been introduced already to so many sordid delights that she nearly believed she had already experienced them.

However, despite the power within being stoked quite hot through her dreams, it still needed to be coupled with the physical connection to another aura to be ignited. Ignited and controlled. The power running the conduit between her and her breathing lovers would be much more intimidating than those in her dreams. Her power would feed the lust of her lover as well as her own, pushing them both to new heights.

If she was truly of devil-blood, as her heritage proclaimed, then the chaotic thrashing of the Ardeur within would frighten her, and she would have to do something about it or be overwhelmed by it.

She would realize this before the end of tonight.

The human was standing up now, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and unfastening his breeches, his erection clearly straining for freedom. She was encouraging him, still holding herself open for him, and Indrath doubted the man knew just how lucky he was. He was the one whom the Lord had chosen and, for now, the fair-haired one could only think about pleasing his beloved daughter.

Indrath felt the penetration as Indra was mounted for the first time, its intensity flinging the sensation across the mind-gap between them. She screamed shrilly, closing her eyes against the very different feel of a living, warm body fitting inside hers. The blonde man took firm hold of her hips, his hands incredibly white against her dark red skin, and humped her like the breeder that he was, hard and fast. She let go of her buttocks to grip the desk where she could, only reaching the edge directly in front of her.

The Lord of the Manor breathed out slowly as he listened to their mixed grunts and squeals, their flesh slapping together as they coupled.

The first coherent thing to leave his daughter's mouth, he thought, was a choked, hoarse "daddy" as she was swept up to the orgasm from which she'd been interrupted earlier. Her claws dug into the thick oak and her tail sought the man's torso, trying to wrap around it instinctively. Her wings flailed and she tensed and shook, the thrusting male behind her not letting up as she lay helpless to the sensations.

When she'd gone lax again, Indra tried to get her hands beneath her to push herself up, but the blonde man had only to press a hand on her back between her wings to settle her back down. Indrath's daughter behaved almost as if she were drunk and confused as the man continued rutting with her.

Indrath mentally tapped into the man's endurance, subtly tweaking it to reduce the sensitivity of his prick a bit so that he was far from finished.

The design of Indra's gown was such that her tail could be threaded through a hole sewn at the small of her back, and it was this which presented an obstruction to the man exposing any more of his Lady's skin. In what should have been an unforgivable offense, he grabbed hold of the base of her tail and jerked the gown further up while he pulled down on it, soon freeing the prehensile appendage and pushing it to the side. Next the blonde man slammed his hips against hers, holding her impaled against the desk as strong hands tore at the hole of her dress, soon ripping it up and down and throwing the gown open like a reverse robe to expose her back from nape to cunt. Then he reached around her wobbly wings to pull at the shoulder straps of her gown.

The blonde man was determined to strip her utterly naked. Groaning incoherently, Indra was unable to stop, direct, or help him, so he did as his lust demanded. He remained mostly clothed, and she was being dominated.

The big, human hands tugged the cloth free from under her then moved from her hips all the way up to her shoulders where he gripped her. There was a squelching noise as he withdrew his cock from her drooling orifice. His hips shifted to a new position and he drew back on her shoulders, forcing her to arch her back.

He spoke only two words— "Spread yourself"— and Indra dazedly obeyed. She reached back again, fumbling a little, to part her buttocks. Instantly the man pressed hard against her star, beginning to sink in immediately since she'd been teasing that orifice earlier. Indra gasped then groaned.

Indrath had watched it all, witnessed as the purple cloth was peeled down his daughter's body, her hair of nearly the same color covering her face. He watched as her broad expanse of skin the brightest diabolic red was exposed, her tail thrashing erratically as she was made to arch backward with her breasts thrust forward, as she obeyed the human's simple command. He watched the human sodomize his daughter with urgent force. Her whimpers and moans as the blonde bucked against her tugged at Indrath's heart, but she remained bent over and unable to gather back her control that she'd lost during her first climax.

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December 22, 2014.


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DOI: These patterns may, however, be related to the intense and impersonal nature of the audiovisual stimuli used. The current study investigated the gender specificity of heterosexual women's sexual arousal in response to less intense sexual stimuli, and also examined the role of relationship context on both women's and men's genital and subjective sexual responses.

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Although seeing people get frisky may turn you on, it may also lead you to reconcile how the actors were treated on set or the state of workers' rights and consent ses the production.

Audio erotica is the steamy soundtrack to your self-quarantine

Though gender-based stereotypes are more womam than low-rise jeans, social conditioning read: the way you've been treated because of your gender can actually impact your sexual psychology, or what turns you on. In my quest to make self-isolation more tolerable, I recently discovered Dipseaa subscription-based audio erotica app with original short-form stories, guided masturbation, and meditations on pleasure and love languages.

These suggest that relationship context may be a more important factor in heterosexual women's physiological sexual response than gender cues. All of it is fairly cheesy, but then so is most porn. Because the medium enables listeners to tune out the rest of the world, the app usage has been growing steadily over the course of social distancing, with spikes in places that began sheltering-in-place sooner.

Des starts to swing at the wall — presumably with a hammer — and Henry encourages her, standing behind to instruct on her swing. In the last year, a of platforms have surfaced to offer audio erotic content.

Audio: woman describes sexual encounter governor eric greitens

So why do women like it so much? She says he found it so funny when she first told him she was listening that she vowed to never let him know anything more about it.

From my cursory browse, I notice some common strands. Assessments were made of 43 heterosexual women's and 9 heterosexual men's genital and subjective sexual arousal to audio narratives describing sexual or neutral encounters with female and male strangers, friends, or long-term relationship partners. You may start to question if the actors are really enjoying themselves or why you aren't finishing as quickly or easily in the same positions.

It becomes functional, like a chore. Sometimes she envisages herself in a scene; other times the characters are encounetr enough that Auido imagines them. Consistent with research employing audiovisual sexual stimuli, men demonstrated a category-specific pattern of genital and subjective arousal with respect to gender, while women showed a nonspecific pattern of genital arousal, yet reported a category-specific pattern of subjective arousal. Have you always wondered what it would be like to get it on with your yoga teacher?

The woman was never not in control. According to Dr.

She describes it as like the difference between watching a film and reading a book — and says she has seen improvements in her overall creativity since she started listening. DOI: Fatima not her real namea year old who pays for a yearly subscription to Dipsea, laughs when I tell her my opinion on Fixer Upper. While video porn may start to rev your arousal engine, there are tons of external factors like body image, past trauma, relationship problems, and stress that can bring your pleasure encoumter to a screeching halt.

Which reminds me that all porn is a lie.

It moves quickly into heavy panting, and before you know it you can hear them kissing. The ethics of that became hugely complicated. At this exact point, my boss asked me why I was looking so flushed, which was encountet embarrassing.

Porn to my ears: i tried audio erotica – would it turn me on?

Publication types. Nagoski adds that audio erotica can help you learn about what turns you on or feels good for your body. A gag is involved. A paid-for service called Dipsea launched as an app in December last year and has already been downloadedtimes.

Audio: woman describes sexual encounter governor eric greitens | daily mail online

For Fatima, the solution is to pay for porn — particularly porn produced by women, or feminists. This disconnect is something Quinn aims to capitalize on: women it surveyed said they often felt a disconnect between their bodies and their minds during arousal, sometimes finding themselves physically turned on but not mentally, or vice versa. The tension is well executed, and I realize why people like dirty talk: hearing what turns people on is arousing. Nagoski says that when you aren't given a visual, your brain can fantasize about what you think is hot or have always been curious about.

Daydreamed about playing around with submission or having a threesome? Basically, it's Audible for orgasms or a MasterClass in masturbation, with an interface so aesthetically pleasing, Glossier is probably jealous. Personally, I found these noises offensive — who wants to hear wet, squelching kisses?

The website Quinn opened its free service seven months ago. With IRL encounters on hold, there's no better time to daydream about sexx dressed up to go out or getting dressed down to get it on.

Porn to my ears: i tried audio erotica – would it turn me on? | life and style | the guardian

But Dr. While watching visual pornography can be inspiring or just plain entertaininglistening to audio erotica may help you transport into a world of your own imagination — perhaps one that's not currently battling a global pandemic. According to Gina Gutierrez, co-founder, and CEO of Dipsea, listening to erotica can allow you to fully tap into your fantasies and desires — something much needed during times of intense stress.

Relationship context did ificantly affect women's genital sexual arousal--arousal to both female and male friends was ificantly lower than to the stranger and long-term relationship contexts--but not men's. Broadly speaking, the recordings feel more empowering than most porn — the women are having safe and happy sexual encounters, and they are not being manipulated, demeaned or coerced.

Listening to porn means curating your own sexy reality. Fatima says that when she used to watch porn she did so at a higher frequency — about once a week. There's much Auido freedom and creativity. This feels accurate. Nagoski says.


44°Mostly Cloudy


tagAnalGetting Even with Evie

Getting Even with Evie

[Author's note: This is just the start of Evie's journey, let me know what you think!]

Seven months ago Evie had given up on men, work, sex, and life. It just seemed like a waste of effort. Five years in the same office and her boss still didn't know her name. A year since the break up that left her teary if bad memories surfaced after a few drinks. On top of it all it had been God-knows how long since the last time someone made her bits tingle.

To be honest though, sex just wasn't that important. Sure, she enjoyed the grunting, pumping and cumming parts enough, it just never seemed to take centre stage in everyday life like it did for other people. She never even touched herself. Her ex had been kinky and had tried to involve her in whatever way he could, but every attempt led to a faked orgasm and another brick in the wall that would separate them.

After the last few long and lonely months Evie had given up hope; and it probably would have killed her. But everything changed when Star Couriers delivered a little brown package.

A sharp knock on the door woke her up. Evie staggered up off the the lounge and skulked over to the front of her small apartment. Last night must have been a lot bigger than she'd realised; not only did she sleep in the lounge room but this hangover was going to be epic.

With a soft groan she opened the door, and was blinded by the early morning light. Although the sun was warm on her singlet top, the concrete of the doorstep was cold on bare feet.

Shielding her eyes Evie scrawled a lazy signature on the clipboard and accepted the small box the courier offered her. He tipped his hat and gave the groggy girl a cheeky smile, sneaking at peek at her hardening nipples as they struck out against the fabric. He left her with a wave, and she closed the door.

Evie set the box down on the coffee table and flopped back onto the lounge with a total lack of grace. By now her body had done a full damage report and the result was carnage. Her mouth tasted like ash and her brain felt like it had been minced up and charged with batteries. There was no way she could deal with conciousness right now. With a sigh she closed her eyes and crashed back into deep sleep.

A few hours, and painkillers, later she got up to start the day. She made a strong cup of coffee, nursing her head all the while, and fell back onto the sofa once more. With a jolt she remembered the package, and reached out to pick it up. It didn't feel heavy, or jingle when she shook it. The only details on the unremarkable packaging were her name and address.

She unwrapped the brown paper and found a simple white box, as frustratingly unremarkable as the packaging it was wrapped in. Popping the side tabs she opened the box and poured the contents on her coffee table. It took a few seconds for her impaired mind to join the dots, but the moment she did Evie blushed deeply.

A smallish purple butt-plug and a bottle marked 'Water-Proof Lube' stared up at her. At its thickest the plug was the width of about three fingers, tapering slim at one end and expanding into a wide suction base at the other. She grabbed the box and tried to find some clue of who or what had sent this thing to her, but the sex toy's origin remained a mystery.

Cautiously Evie picked the thing up, and was surprised by its weight. It had a slightly tacky texture, but didn't leave residue on your hand. Musing, she guessed it was some hi-tech silicon designed to feel like skin. Even when she held the sex toy at an arm's length she could smell a slight odour. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but a sweet, almost tangy, musk. Before she realised what she was doing Evie bought the plug to her lips and gave it a gentle kiss.

A sharp knock on the door for the second time that morning bought her back to reality with a snap. Throwing her arms around wildly she gathered up the empty packaging and stashed the surprise toy in the drawer of the coffee table.

A few seconds after she closed the drawer Evie felt a hot flush break over her cheeks. Her pulse picked up and a floating sensation swept up through her. On impulse she slid her hand down across her stomach and over her crotch, but another knock at the door snapped her back to reality and she headed over to the door. Groaning, Evie opened the front door and once again was blinded by the sunny day outside.

"Hey babe." Kel chirped at her and stepped straight in. "Wow... You look fucked. Hit the cosmopolitans last night?" She teased. Kel's swipe at Evie's dishevelled looks was normal. She was incredible blunt, totally at odds with her sweet, girl-next-door, good looks.

"Yeah, no, I'm just, feeling a bit weird today." Evie shrugged, suddenly nervous her friend would open the drawer and catch out the 'delivery'.

Kel had come round for the regular bitching-session about other girls, boys and the usual. They shared a coffee and Evie made toast, but didn't do much of the talking. She sat on the lounge, listening to Kel's giggling anecdotes feeling stifled, as if the room was too hot. Her eyes would always wander back to the drawer her 'package' lay in.

"Evie? E-vie?" Kel sung slowly, "You must be hung-over! Are you even awake?" She laughed. Evie didn't reply straight away; she was distracted by the gentle grazing of her singlet top across her breasts. The feeling was incredible; any movement of the fabric over her nipple seemed amplified, even electrifying. It dragged up a forgotten feeling, making her blush for the second time this morning. Why didn't it always feel like this? After a long pause she replied.

"Yeah, sorry Kel. I'm not feeling great at the moment." She lied. "I think I need a long shower."

Kel eyed her nervously through her jagged fringe. "Ok babe. I'll give you a call later, I think you really do need a bit of sleep." She stood up and headed for the door, turning back as she reached it.

"Evie, I know you've had a shit few months but I don't want to see you drink yourself to death or see you taken advantage of by that stink-bug ex. If you don't want us to come with you tonight that's cool but -"

"Wait, what do you mean?" Evie interrupted; she didn't remember making any plans. And the stink-bug ex could only be Marcus, that kinky former boyfriend. Kel used to call him stink-bug because he spent so much time researching insect pheromones at the University he would come home smelling like compost.

Kel fumbled with her phone and bought up the messages screen. "What do you mean? You told me Marcus invited you to Verdé Noonas tonight, and asked me if Theo and I would come with you for support."

"Wait, I said that?" Evie was totally confused now; why would she accept an invitation to dinner with Marcus, who she hadn't seen since their break-up a year ago, and on top of that why drag her best friend and her cute boyfriend along too? It didn't make any sense, but then again either did having a butt-plug she'd never seen before delivered first thing in the morning.

"Yeah I've got the messages here." Kel brandished her phone at her. "I know you don't like talking about him but if he wants to have dinner maybe you can sort it out? I thought you'd invited me and Theo for moral support. We can leave you two to it if you want." Kel looked concerned. Evie was acting pretty weird, even for a hangover victim.

"No, please, Kel. Look, I'm just a bit confused at the moment. I don't remember it but I'll go through my phone and see what he sent and get back to you in a few hours. I don't know if I want to see him yet, it's... tricky. I don't feel myself today." Evie's flush picked up as she spoke, making her heart race.

"Haha, not yet you haven't," Kel replied with a wink, not knowing how close she was to the truth.

They said their goodbyes and Evie hurried her friend out the door. Her nipples had become embarrassingly pointy with the friction of her top as she moved. Glancing in the mirror she saw the pink tinge in her cheeks, and immediately reached down to her crotch again. Why was she feeling herself? It was so strange, this feeling... she was dripping wet.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" She asked no one in particular. Peeling off her singlet she stood in front of the mirror and cupped her left breast in her palm. Occasionally their size bothered her; compared to a Victoria's Secret catalogue she was a little above average. A whole lot above average actually. Any self-consciousness she normally had was replaced today with a sinuous lust.

Her breathing picked up and it became hard to think straight. Through the haze of arousal she set herself off toward the bathroom. Pausing only to strip out of her pyjama pants she stepped into the shower. She was determined to cool herself down, and she utterly failed.

Closing her eyes and breathing in steam bought her back to reality for a few seconds, but it didn't prepare her for the shock she got when she looked down. With a gasp she realised she was clutching the butt-plug in her right hand, and dropped it onto the cubicle floor.

The toy landed on its suction cup and Evie regarded it with suspicious eyes. She didn't remember picking it out of the drawer on her way to the bathroom, it had appeared almost by magic. Looking over to the vanity she saw the unremarkable bottle of lube, which she also had no memory of touching.

She reached out and grabbed the little bottle, and immediately felt the haze come back over her. It was like the every connection between her nerves, brain and now her vagina was amped up to 11. Every drop of water tickled her back and neck, and the damp of her pussy welled up and slid down her leg. Without thinking she bent down and had a closer look at the butt-plug that provoked such a reaction in her.

Evie had never owned a sex toy, or even really considered her ass to be a good place for a foreign object. But she could see why the shape of the plug would be perfect. As she admired the sexy curve of the fuck-toy a little part of her brain protested at the thought of using her ass hole like that. The thought lingered for a second, but the haze of arousal proved to strong, and a moment later she had popped the cap on the lube and squeezed a long drop onto her fingers.

Squatting down she gave her pussy a few long strokes, massaging the slippery goo all over the wet folds and sucking hole. Masturbation wasn't classically part of her repertoire, but this felt amazing. Her fingers grazed her slick, sensitive parts in a way that made her gurgle with delight. Strangely the lube didn't wash off in the steamy water of the shower, and seemed instead to have a warming quality about it. Every spark of contact sent shivers straight through her engorged clit.

As the young girl fingered her pussy in ecstasy the lube did its work. Chemical compounds seeped through the exposed membranes of her heated cunt and into her bloodstream, delivering their message of desire and arousal to her entire body. It felt like every part of her was as sensitive as the nub of her clit, and without taking her hand off her slopping pussy she squeezed a long drop of the gooey liquid onto her abdomen and rubbed the slippery goodness all over her stomach, thighs and ass.

As the the feeling intensified she got one hand to work her clit and the other to slide into her throbbing pussy. Evie gasped out loud as she shoved three fingers deep into her cunt, immediately sending her into spasm. Planting her back against the wall of the cubicle she surrendered herself to the all consuming fuck-frenzy playing through her mind. The hot water falling down made a sloshing noise as she worked herself with three fingers, grunting as she thrust in and out.

Every time she thrust into her pussy she pushed the life-changing lube deeper inside her, intensifying its effect. Slamming her cunt with as much force as she could muster Evie felt total bliss, moaning hard as her pussy squeezed around her fingers.

Her orgasm seemed to begin all over her body at the same time. As she furiously strummed her clit and fucked herself hard the pressure built up inside, forcing her to shout a long, drawn out groan. Evie was breathing fast and hard. It wouldn't be long now before the full force hit her and she began to cum.

It hit her like a freight train, forcing her pussy to shoot a long squirt of juice all over the wall of the cubicle. Evie's hand blurred as it slapped her clit, sending her climax up into the stratosphere. Screaming like a wild animal the young girl fucked her pussy all the way through the biggest orgasm of her life, letting a wet gush of girl-cum dribbled out of her well-fucked hole and onto the floor.

Her scream faded to a slow, guttural groan as her body melted away with the pleasure. The whole time she played with herself the butt-plug sat a foot away, and it wasn't until her orgasm at last subsided she remembered it was there.

The haze in her mind cleared after she came. She sat back, legs spread wide, absent-mindedly toying with her engorged cunt in the glow of the fucking she'd given herself. Shock and shame drifted through her at how easily she'd succumbed to mindless masturbation. It had felt out of her control, like some horny beast had taken over her pussy and all that mattered was having her holes stuffed and fucked, as hard and quick as possible.

She reached out and picked up the butt plug. As it touched her skin Evie felt a sudden relaxation spread across her. The hazy fog of her sex-lust was beginning to rise up through her again, but it immediately faded when she touch of the plug's silicon. The effect was totally confusing, but it didn't stop her self-pleasuring rampage.

Without pausing to think about it she squeezed more lube onto her fingers and started to slop it up on her virgin ass hole. She was in total auto-pilot, the haze of sex and lust had descended on her and all she could do was take a back seat and watch as she prepared to defile herself.

The electric feeling of the cool lube on her pussy was nothing compared to what it did the moment it touched her puckered rose-bud ass hole. The instant it touched her ring Evie's clit twitched and began to swell. Her breathing picked up to a fevered pace and her heart felt like it was about to explode.

After a gentle massage she slipped one finger into her back hole, and groaned as bliss spread from her virgin anal ring. The finger slid in past the first knuckle, then the second, finally wriggling in all the way down. The lube worked its chemical magic on her. Animal pheromones got to work on every cell in her tight young body, linking arousal, desire, sex and pure fucking into every neuron in her brain. Entire muscle systems began to gently shift and relax, opening her anal canal and preparing it for penetration.

She worked one finger in all the way in and out, and with some long strokes back and forth relaxed her ring, allowing a second and then third finger to slide up into her ass hole. The feeling was indescribable; this was bliss, ecstasy, the end-game pleasure designed by God and Budha and all the good things in the world.

Evie groaned as she filled her own ass hole, sliding up and down on her fingers, fucking herself with joy. She threw her head back and slid her free hand over to her clit, massaging the soft fleshy nub. The engorged folds of her vagina quivered with what felt like pure electricity. Her pussy shot little spurts of girl-cum every time she thrust her fingers into her ass. It was time for the butt plug.

When her fingers left her ass hole and her tight ring gaped empty something happened to Evie. She began to panic. The feelings of emptiness caused her to fret and breathe in ragged gasps. She needed something in her ass hole, craved it on a base level. Shaking as she went, Evie tried to calm herself down, and lubed up the plug. She didn't know it then, but this first anal fucking marked the start of a whole new life.

As soon as the plug's little nose touched her ass hole she began to feel gentle waves of calm spread across her abdomen and throughout her mind. Evie gave a guttural grunt as she forced herself down onto the plug, stretching her wet, pink ass ring wider and wider. The plug was unrelenting as it slid slowly deeper into her virgin back hole. She reflexively clenched her bowel and forced the plug out with a slight plop.

The effect was immediate. As soon as the plug broke contact with her body she began to feel an insatiable lust spring back to life. Her hand flew straight to her pussy and she frigged herself off frantically as her head became a blur of hazy sex and furious fucking.

Strumming her ripe clit with both hands Evie tried to fight back against the fog of arousal and desperate need that clogged her brain. The chemical agent deep in the molecular structure of the lube had done its work, and the effect was both immediate and everlasting. Evie slammed her sopping pussy with three fingers over and over, not even pausing as she reached out and realigned the butt plug with her puckered ass hole. She had no choice, she needed to fill her ass hole.

The friction of her fingers curling around her cunt was beginning to boil in her abdomen, making her push down on the plug harder this time. The orgasm building in her accelerated as the plug slowly slid up into her bowel, stretching the ring past the reflex point right up to the plug's widest girth.

Her fingers continued to smash into her sloppy cunt, forcing pussy juice to spray up over herself and across the cubicle. Her girl-cum began to shoot out in strong squirts and eventually a solid stream as the plug slid all the way into her tight virgin's ass, causing her to orgasm with a force she never knew possible.

Her pussy spasmed again and again as the combined feeling of the toy buried in her ass and her hands thumping her clit thrilled up and down her shaking body. Every second felt like an eternity of fireworks and music. Having a full, stretched ass hole was bliss like she'd never had before, like she'd never even known possible. As the magic of her orgasm spread across her body and slowly faded Evie's mind returned from the haze of her lust.

What had happened to her? Just this morning she had never even considered touching herself in a sexual way and here she was practically fisting her pussy and ramming foreign objects deep into her ass. This couldn't be right. What was in that lube that drove her crazy, and what was it about the butt plug that made her want to fill every hole she had? None of it made sense.

Her orgasm had faded into a dim glow, leaving her flushed pink and breathing heavy. Her pussy was still swollen and sensitive as she stood up and turned off the shower, enjoying the fading steamy mists that lingered in the bathroom. She'd come down from high orbit and with her returning sense of self began to ask some serious questions. She wasn't a nympho, she knew that much, but what else could explain the desperate horniness that seemed to hit her in waves? It was almost like she was on heat all of a sudden....

The phrase 'on heat' floated through her mind. It set off a chain of images and memories; the butt plug, Kel's phone, the 'stink-bug' ex. All of a sudden she knew who she had to call; and raced off to find her phone.

Evie found her handbag on the lounge room floor, and stretched down. As she rummaged through the debris of her bag, she didn't even notice the little purple butt plug still nestled deep in her stretched ass hole. Something was different right down in her core. Something had changed deep inside her and she needed to speak to Marcus.

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by Anonymous08/24/15

Okay, well that's a good start...

... but where's the rest of it?


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