Fill Re: F!Turian reached-around 3/3
anonymous
July 28 2015, 20:54:32 UTC
Music. There was music here, and it was loud. The thundering bass beat filled her head and rattled her bones, sending quivers down her spine and out the length of her rock-hard cock.
Her cock? She rapidly returned to full awareness and remembered what had happened. She must have lost consciousness as Aria overstimulated her. Now she was back in Afterlife.
Yes, she was definitely in Afterlife. In Aria's office, to be exact. But her wrists were tied to the railing overlooking the dance floor. And she was naked. She looked over her shoulder. And, yep, there was Aria, scowling at her. Despite the shame of her predicament, the frank stares coming from the serious drinkers at the bar, and the humiliating indifference of the drugged up dancers, she felt the familiar trembling in her knees. She so desperately wanted Aria to take her. Her cock was straining against the air, there was intense pressure within it, it felt as if it was going to burst.
She looked again. Oh shit. Aria had equipped herself with an impressive member as well. And she was coming this way.
“I hope you're ready for this, Nyreen,” said Aria as she took up position behind her. “For once, I'm not going to make you beg.”
Aria lined herself up, placing the tip of her cock against Nyreen's asshole. Nyreen gasped as an electric tingle stimulated her anal muscles. She felt her ring thrum and loosen, and then Aria was sliding in, copious amounts of lubricant secreted by her artificial cock smoothing the way, neural stimulation relaxing, tensing, pulsing her muscles to maximise the sensitivity of both partners.
Nyreen was full. Both her holes were stuffed with high tech electronic simulacra. But she couldn't think about that now. She could only, just barely, remember to breathe.
Aria reached around with one hand and took a gentle grip of her shaft. She forgot about breathing. “This was such a good idea, Nyreen,” said Aria. “I'm so glad you brought this to my attention.” Nyreen had just about enough sense left to hear the genuine pleasure in Aria's voice.
As Aria pumped back and forth with her own dick, she slid her closed fist up and down Nyreen's. She paced herself achingly slowly, letting the neural stimulators fire in prolonged bursts at every step. It was a thickly laid down spray of pure crystalline pleasure, interwoven with sheets of pain that left Nyreen momentarily blind and rigid, her nerve clusters firebombed into submission.
Aria began to pick up her pace, and Nyreen felt like she was in the middle of a firework display, every time half a thought formulated itself in her head, it was blown apart by another pulse or throb from deep within her. Some bright spark in the lighting booth lit them up with a fast flickering strobe that wound down in frequency until it matched Aria's rhythm perfectly.
Nyreen, though she had her eyes wide open, barely saw, but it registered somewhere that the dancers had mostly stopped and that the crowd was staring at the scene unfolding on Aria's balcony, frame by stroboscopic frame, their contorted features like a series of hauntings, a mad rictus of pleasure on their faces one moment, a tortured gasp of pain the next.
Aria was pounding into her with an uncharacteristic frenzy, both arms wrapped around Nyreen's narrow hips to grasp the artificial cock that projected from her, one hand gripping the base of the shaft and one fisting the flange.
Aria spoke to her, and it resounded above the noise of the crowd, who were cheering raucously, amplified by her omni-tool. One word for each thrust, for each simultaneous stroke of their cocks. “You. Don't. Fuck. With,” and here Aria paused, lengthening her final thrust, and the crowd went wild, and shouted her name.
Which covered neatly for the fact, that Nyreen just barely noticed, as she was driven into a long, smooth orgasm, much better calibrated that the first one, that Aria had completely lost control and was juddering like an overloaded mech at the hands of her own earth-shattering experience.
Nyreen's plan had worked after all, although not quite as she had intended.
------------------------------
And they all lived fucked-uppily ever after. The End.
Her cock? She rapidly returned to full awareness and remembered what had happened. She must have lost consciousness as Aria overstimulated her. Now she was back in Afterlife.
Yes, she was definitely in Afterlife. In Aria's office, to be exact. But her wrists were tied to the railing overlooking the dance floor. And she was naked. She looked over her shoulder. And, yep, there was Aria, scowling at her. Despite the shame of her predicament, the frank stares coming from the serious drinkers at the bar, and the humiliating indifference of the drugged up dancers, she felt the familiar trembling in her knees. She so desperately wanted Aria to take her. Her cock was straining against the air, there was intense pressure within it, it felt as if it was going to burst.
She looked again. Oh shit. Aria had equipped herself with an impressive member as well. And she was coming this way.
“I hope you're ready for this, Nyreen,” said Aria as she took up position behind her. “For once, I'm not going to make you beg.”
Aria lined herself up, placing the tip of her cock against Nyreen's asshole. Nyreen gasped as an electric tingle stimulated her anal muscles. She felt her ring thrum and loosen, and then Aria was sliding in, copious amounts of lubricant secreted by her artificial cock smoothing the way, neural stimulation relaxing, tensing, pulsing her muscles to maximise the sensitivity of both partners.
Nyreen was full. Both her holes were stuffed with high tech electronic simulacra. But she couldn't think about that now. She could only, just barely, remember to breathe.
Aria reached around with one hand and took a gentle grip of her shaft. She forgot about breathing. “This was such a good idea, Nyreen,” said Aria. “I'm so glad you brought this to my attention.” Nyreen had just about enough sense left to hear the genuine pleasure in Aria's voice.
As Aria pumped back and forth with her own dick, she slid her closed fist up and down Nyreen's. She paced herself achingly slowly, letting the neural stimulators fire in prolonged bursts at every step. It was a thickly laid down spray of pure crystalline pleasure, interwoven with sheets of pain that left Nyreen momentarily blind and rigid, her nerve clusters firebombed into submission.
Aria began to pick up her pace, and Nyreen felt like she was in the middle of a firework display, every time half a thought formulated itself in her head, it was blown apart by another pulse or throb from deep within her. Some bright spark in the lighting booth lit them up with a fast flickering strobe that wound down in frequency until it matched Aria's rhythm perfectly.
Nyreen, though she had her eyes wide open, barely saw, but it registered somewhere that the dancers had mostly stopped and that the crowd was staring at the scene unfolding on Aria's balcony, frame by stroboscopic frame, their contorted features like a series of hauntings, a mad rictus of pleasure on their faces one moment, a tortured gasp of pain the next.
Aria was pounding into her with an uncharacteristic frenzy, both arms wrapped around Nyreen's narrow hips to grasp the artificial cock that projected from her, one hand gripping the base of the shaft and one fisting the flange.
Aria spoke to her, and it resounded above the noise of the crowd, who were cheering raucously, amplified by her omni-tool. One word for each thrust, for each simultaneous stroke of their cocks. “You. Don't. Fuck. With,” and here Aria paused, lengthening her final thrust, and the crowd went wild, and shouted her name.
Which covered neatly for the fact, that Nyreen just barely noticed, as she was driven into a long, smooth orgasm, much better calibrated that the first one, that Aria had completely lost control and was juddering like an overloaded mech at the hands of her own earth-shattering experience.
Nyreen's plan had worked after all, although not quite as she had intended.
------------------------------
And they all lived fucked-uppily ever after. The End.
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(A!A prematurely starts writing PCA acceptance speech, wearing a conceited grin)
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