“Firebombs? Why would I want a consumable over a unique item?”
“Well technically the others aren’t unique, you can still find them in-game later on. The binoculars are literally in the first area, and I wouldn’t recommend the Master Key for a first playthrough…”
“This game’s really hard though, right? Shouldn’t I get the ring that regens health?”
“Okay so that’s actually a translation error, it actually only increases your max health by like five percent. You could make an argument for the Old Witch’s Ring, but I can’t really tell you what that’s for yet, and the firebombs let you pull off a cool trick early on…”
Lucy listens attentively to Stephanie’s explanation, enjoying the genuine passion sparkling in her eyes. In the brief moments of eye contact she’s trained herself to sprinkle into her social interactions, Stephanie almost thinks she catches a hungry look from Lucy, but she can’t fathom why that might be the case. She’s probably reading it wrong.
“Has anyone told you you might be autistic?”
Stephanie is briefly stunned.
“Why do people keep saying that? I just love this game, okay?”
“I meant it as a compliment, silly.”
Lucy giggles. Steph blushes in a mix of embarrassment and flattery.
“Seriously, it’s really attractive when you’re passionate about stuff. Not that I didn’t already think you were cute, but still.”
Steph blushes harder, and looks away, her lips trembling. She is still at a loss as to how to process, let alone respond to, this kind of compliment. Lucy is aware of this, and is grinning mischievously.
Stephanie has worn her signature shirt-and-skirt combo, with an old but comfy abstract tee from the “before times” that still happens to fit, and a pleated black skirt with white pawprints on it that will probably need an iron after this. The rainbow stripes of her gay little socks have been freed from her fancy black ankle boots (which are currently neatly placed by her handbag on the floor), adding a splash of bright colour to the end of her black tights. Her eyeliner is sharp, her hair smells like rose hips and jojoba (whatever that is), and she’s even worn a cute little choker with a heart ring at the front. The one-coat black polish on her nails is starting to chip away, but she quite likes how it looks. Her ears are still healing from being pierced, so she’s got surgical steel studs in, which are a deep blue that brings out her eyes. She feels cute.
Lucy has matched her energy, with a long, sleek, synthetic purple dress patterned with ghost-type Pokémon, cinched around her waist with a studded black vegan leather belt. Her floofy hair is swept to one side into a loose, light blue ponytail that rests on her shoulder, and she has a pendant necklace with an onyx on it. The shifting RGB light pulsing from her PC softly plays across her face, which is frankly unfairly pretty – she has big round eyes, a delicate nose, and a smattering of freckles barely visible on her light brown skin. Stephanie has some difficulty looking directly at her – it’s like looking at the sun, but instead of retina damage, she risks being overwhelmed with homosexual thoughts.
They’re seated a respectful distance away from each other on Lucy’s bed, which is clad in bright pink sheets and adorned with various stuffed animals, Kuromis, and Squishmallows. Everything is soft, including the lighting – Lucy’s set up fairy lights that hang above the bed in rows. It’s not what Steph expected from a senior software dev three years older than her, but it’s a thoroughly cosy and wholesome space to simply exist in, and goes a long way towards making Stephanie feel comfy – physically and mentally.
Lucy finishes inputting her character name – ‘Lord Fuckbutt’ – and hits ACCEPT. The screen goes dark. Stephanie squirms with excitement.
“Oh this is important! We got some LORE.”
“Ooh.”
The two watch in silence, paying close attention as they are introduced, cinematically, to various characters and concepts that Stephanie could write dissertations on and which mean nothing to Lucy. Yet.
“Whoa, cool. Can’t wait to forget all of that immediately so it can surprise me again later.”
Lucy grins at Stephanie. Stephanie, melting a little, smiles back, as naturally as she can.
Lucy seems to be enjoying her company so far, but Steph remains on edge. The part of her brain which is hopelessly attracted to Lucy is constantly warning her not to fuck this up, and coming up with outlandish scenarios as to how she might fuck it up, and the consequences she might suffer for the crime of fucking it up. She tries not to let it get to her.
Lucy turns back to the screen with a determined expression, leans forward and squeezes the controller hard enough to make a disconcerting cracking sound.
“Let’s fuckin’ do this.”
—
“WHICH ONE’S DODGE?”
“Circle! I mean B! The one on the right!”
Lord Fuckbutt finds himself unceremoniously crushed beneath the demon’s greathammer before dissipating into ethereal fog. “YOU DIED” appears on the screen in big red letters.
Lucy tilts her head towards Stephanie.
“I think I died.”
“That does…seem to be the case. But that was really good for your first try! You got him down to half health, I’m sure you can get him next time!”
Stephanie cringes at how clunky and awkward that must have sounded, but Lucy makes no indication of the sort. Instead, she pauses the game. Or at least, she presses the button that would normally pause a game, but in this case just opens the menu. The bonfire continues to crackle in the background.
“Can we take a break for a bit actually? I kinda have something else in mind.”
Stephanie tenses up.
“Oh? …What’s that?”
Lucy tosses the controller vaguely in the direction of her bedside table and flops down onto one of her pillows. She smiles expectantly at Stephanie, patting the space next to her.
Stephanie pauses for a moment, as she realises this is an invitation, painstakingly convinces herself that it’s probably okay to accept it, and carefully climbs her way into the spot reserved for her alongside Lucy, making an effort not to disturb too many stuffies. As her head lands on the pillow, she finds herself face to face with an incredibly pretty lady, smiling serenely in her direction, and her brain completely short circuits. She feels like she has to say something.
“…Hi.”
“Hi!”
Lucy gives Steph a little wave and a playful smile. It’s adorable.
She can’t believe her luck, and it must be luck, because surely she doesn’t deserve to be in this situation, right? Stephanie hates judging people on appearance, and hates putting people on numerical scales even more, but she still thinks of herself as maybe a six out of ten on a good day.
Lucy is one of the most stunningly beautiful people she’s ever seen. Stephanie doesn’t believe in the concept of “leagues,” but she can’t help but feel that Lucy is out of hers. Surely if Stephanie expresses any interest, or tries to initiate anything, Lucy would be incredulous. She’d ask if Stephanie really thought someone like her would be attracted to someone like Stephanie.
A more optimistic part of Stephanie’s brain puts forward that not only did Lucy match with Stephanie, she had swiped right on Stephanie first, and she had also called Stephanie cute to her face ten minutes ago. But that can’t be right. Surely she’s just being nice. She probably just pities me.
Stephanie thinks of the unpleasantly common hentai trope of the innocent, pretty girl and the hideous, disgusting troll. She feels like the troll.
Something of Stephanie’s inner turmoil must have shown on her face. Lucy’s expression changes to one of concern.
“Hey, everything ok?”
Stephanie pauses as she weighs up her options: telling the truth and coming across as deeply insecure, or lying, pretending (poorly) that everything’s fine, and probably dissociating. She picks the first one, mostly because she doesn’t trust her acting ability.
“Do you really…think I’m attractive?”
Lucy props herself up on her elbow, her expression suddenly stern.
“Steffy! …Can I call you Steffy?”
Stephanie blinks.
“Um. Sure?”
“Steffy! Look at yourself! You’ve got such beautiful curls!”
Lucy pokes one of Stephanie’s ringlets. It bounces like a spring.
“You’ve got these gorgeous cheekbones!”
She runs her finger along one. Stephanie flinches slightly at her touch.
“You’ve got really pretty eyes!”
Stephanie breaks eye contact, embarrassed.
“You’re like a Renaissance painting! A classical beauty! And your outfit is really pretty!”
Stephanie wants to object, but can’t find the words.
“But also you’re really nice to talk to! I wouldn’t have invited you over if you hadn’t made me feel comfy and safe and made me laugh and smile! That’s hot as fuck!”
Stephanie is holding back tears, but she’s smiling.
“I…thank you. I don’t…um. I’ll take your word for it, I guess.”
“You’d better!”
Lucy is smiling too.
“Now come cuddle!”
Lucy pulls Steph’s arm up under her neck and rolls over onto her other side, pressing her back against Stephanie’s front. The sudden close contact makes Steph gasp.
“You’ve been assigned Big Spoon at Now.”
Lucy takes Stephanie’s free hand and pulls it over herself, then nestles her butt into Stephanie’s lap, encasing herself snugly in a cocoon of Stephanie. Steph’s heart rate is elevated, her thoughts are racing, but her body is frozen, a deer in the headlights. One wrong move, she thinks, and it’s over for her, though she has no actual tangible concept of what exactly that might mean in this context.
Her hands, in front of Lucy, are not sure what to do. She’s not certain what areas of her body, if any, are okay to touch, so she lets them hover awkwardly in a somewhat uncomfortable position, as far from Lucy’s chest as she can manage. Lucy’s hair is in her face, but Steph’s arms are stuck. She bends her neck at an odd angle to stop stray hairs getting in her nose. Lucy’s ponytail carries a lingering scent of fresh strawberries from her expensive conditioner.
Stephanie finally processes how her breasts are pressed against Lucy’s back, and how the skin of her arms is in contact with Lucy’s bare shoulders. She can feel herself starting to get hard, and hurriedly shifts her hips, hyper-aware of how close her bits are to Lucy’s butt and desperate to avoid them touching.
Stephanie reminds herself firmly that she has permission to be in this situation. Lucy has been very clear, both verbally and with her body language, that she wants Stephanie here, and wants to be in her arms. Her brain is still trying to find a way that it could all be a misunderstanding, or a bit, but the evidence to the contrary is airtight.
Lucy’s breathing and heart rate have slowed. She’s taking big, slow breaths, sighing cutely after some of them. Her eyes are closed, and she’s got a big smile on her face. Stephanie considers that if Lucy is this relaxed and comfortable in her arms, it seems unlikely that she is a hideous troll.
But she wants more, as much as she might wish she didn’t. A gorgeous woman is literally pressed against her – and from her brief glances (because staring feels predatory) she knows Lucy’s body is a work of art. She wants nothing more than to get her hands (and lips, and tongue) on it, but it’s weird and gross to want that, right? Besides, they always tell you you’re not allowed to touch the art.
But “they” in this case does not include Lucy.
Calmly, comfortably, very deliberately, Lucy interlaces her fingers with Stephanie’s and guides her hand towards her hip. Stephanie watches in mild disbelief as her fingers reach their destination. Her hand is on Lucy’s body. Without thinking, she starts to move it gently up Lucy’s side, then down, past Lucy’s hip to her thigh, and back again, her fingers reverently following the contours of Lucy’s body.
Her heart rate quickens. Every sensation is heightened. Her brain is trying – and failing – to process it all: the glint of the fairy lights on the shiny fabric tightly hugging Lucy’s subtly feminine curves; the textures under her fingertips – thin satin, with a layer of lace underneath, neither doing anything to obscure the feel of Lucy’s supple flesh; the high-pitched, adorable little noises of contentment Lucy is making in response to Stephanie’s touch.
Stephanie’s fingers diligently explore within the confines they are permitted – as far forward as the base of Lucy’s ribcage, as far back as the ridges of her spine. The side of her pelvis, the point of her shoulder blade, the corner of her shoulder. Down her bicep, her forearm, and the tendons and bones on the back of her hand. Her soft stomach, the muscles in her thigh, her knee, her calf. With a little hesitation, the back of her neck.
Lucy inhales sharply. Stephanie’s hand recoils.
“Sorry, should I not…?”
“No no, it’s really good, just…sensitive. Makes my brain go fuzzy. Your touch feels incredible.”
Stephanie’s cheeks are burning red.
“I’m just…doing what comes naturally, I guess.”
“You should do some more of what comes naturally then.”
Lucy smiles back at Steph, a mischievous look in her eye. She takes Stephanie’s hand again, this time bringing it up towards her chest. Steph had noticed during her exploration that Lucy isn’t wearing a bra. She doesn’t need the support – her chest isn’t large – but as Stephanie’s hand, following Lucy’s guidance, closes around Lucy’s breast, her heart skips a beat, and all she can think of is the word ‘soft.’
The antagonistic gremlin living in the back of Stephanie’s mind tries to remind her of her insecurities, tell her that she doesn’t deserve this, and that she’s ugly and gross and weird and such, but Steph isn’t listening. She’s wholly focused on the unbelievable situation she’s found herself in, having been not just allowed, not just encouraged, but ordered to caress Lucy’s wonderful tits, to enjoy their softness, to surround them with her hands, to ever-so-gently squeeze them, to trace her fingertips around their perimeter. And Lucy, all the while, is not just tolerating, not just enjoying, but relishing the experience. As is Stephanie.
Even through the stretchy fabric, Stephanie can feel the change in Lucy’s nipples, her soft, pillowy areolas stiffening to perky pink points. Careful not to be too rough, she gently squeezes one, runs her finger around it, lightly flicks it, each motion eliciting a high-pitched vocalisation of pleasure – confirmation that she’s doing a good job. She feels relieved.
Stephanie’s hand begins to wander lower, but Lucy stops her for a moment.
“Oh yeah, um, maybe avoid the front down there. But anywhere else is good. And I do mean anywhere.”
Lucy’s tone is sultry, but playful. Stephanie nods and smiles. She appreciates the clear communication.
Steph slides her hand down Lucy’s hip, and almost reaches her butt, but hesitates.
“Um, so, is it okay if I…”
Lucy giggles.
“You’re adorable!”
Stephanie looks away, embarrassed and insecure. Lucy quickly realises her mistake. She rolls over to face her.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean—sorry. I—to be clear, I really like that you’re careful! I can tell that you care a lot about my comfort and it makes me feel really safe. Trust me when I say I am having a very good time, you’re really hot, and you’re doing great, and I really like having your hands on me, so…grab my butt, pretty please?”
Stephanie can only maintain eye contact for a few moments at a time, but in these brief snapshots she can tell Lucy is sincere. Her tone, her words, and her demeanour are soothing. She feels a bit better. Still awkward, but better.
Lucy reaches her hand over to Stephanie’s cheek.
“Maybe this will help.”
Lucy pulls Steph into a kiss. Each is pleasantly surprised by the softness of the other’s lips. Stephanie’s eyes are wide open in shock, but after a few moments, she realises Lucy’s eyes are closed, so hers are supposed to be as well.
Lucy’s style of kissing is slow, passionate, and gentle. Their lips stay locked for what feels like an eternity (about eight seconds) before they separate to catch their breath, but both are eager to reconvene. Their tongues aren’t active, yet, but the feeling of their lips against each other is divine.
Steph can taste a hint of blackberry flavouring in Lucy’s lip balm. She can smell Lucy’s perfume, hear her breathing, feel her body against her own. Her senses are entirely overwhelmed with Lucy. Stephanie feels intoxicated, having difficulty forming a coherent thought through the pleasant brain fog she finds herself in.
With them both in that state of silent passion, eyes closed and lips enmeshed, Lucy once again takes Stephanie by the hand and gives her what she wants most – permission. She places Steph’s hand squarely on her butt, even pushing her fingers down in a squeezing motion. Stephanie gasps.
Lucy’s hand, now on the back of Stephanie’s neck, pulls Steph firmly back into the kiss. Stephanie is forced to multitask, returning the kiss to the best of her ability, while also squeezing Lucy’s butt, marveling at the feel of it. She alternates between caressing its contours with her hand and wrapping her fingers around a cheek and gently squeezing. It’s the perfect size and shape for her hand, and the fabric covering it does nothing to hide its smoothness, softness, and squishiness. Though the dress does seem to be in the way a little.
Stephanie slides her hand down Lucy’s leg, just past the hem of her dress, and starts to move it back up beneath the fabric, but pauses, leaning her head back slightly to break the kiss.
“Is this okay?”
“God yes.”
Lucy’s response is breathy and dripping with desire, and as a result Stephanie is as turned on as she’s ever been.
Neither can wait to resume kissing, though in their eagerness, their front teeth clack against each other. It’s nowhere near enough to ruin the moment, but it will ache for a bit.
Meanwhile, Steph’s hand has reached Lucy’s butt again, but this time she can feel the smooth, warm, tender texture of her bare skin on her fingertips. Stephanie is in heaven. She thinks about the phrase, enjoying the irony that if a heaven did exist, she would surely be going to hell for this. Oh well.
Her fingers play across the perfect skin of Lucy’s ass, as well as the somewhat more coarse fabric of her lacy underwear. Her eyes are still closed, but she has a pretty good mental image of what it might look like. It’s gorgeous.
In response to Steph’s enthusiastic appreciation of her body, Lucy tentatively runs her tongue along the underside of Stephanie’s upper lip. Stephanie responds in kind. Their mouths open a little wider. The tips of their tongues come into contact and recoil timidly, but can’t stay away from each other for long, and both extend, embracing, caressing one another, intertwining, slipping and sliding across the other in a wonderfully debaucherous way.
Stephanie’s brain is not thinking right now, only feeling. Doing what comes naturally, figuring out what feels good, what feels right, and what will make Lucy feel the best.
Lucy lifts her knee, wedging it between Stephanie’s thighs. Stephanie parts her legs to accommodate it, and as she does, Lucy continues its trajectory, until her thigh starts to press against Steph’s crotch. Stephanie gasps, breaking the kiss. Lucy smirks.
“I think someone’s a little excited.”
Stephanie’s language faculties sputter back into action, because it would be too awkward not to respond.
“I can’t help it, you’re so fucking gorgeous, I—”
She stops herself, worried she’ll say something she might consider ‘cringe’ when she remembers it at 4 AM in like six months.
Lucy giggles. She smiles sincerely at Stephanie.
“Wow, coming from you? High praise!”
Stephanie isn’t sure exactly why, but she responds to this by pulling Lucy into a close hug, her cheek resting against Lucy’s. The closeness feels warm and intimate and wholesome. She can feel Lucy’s heartbeat through her chest. It’s fast, like Stephanie’s, and her breathing is heavy, like Stephanie’s. She finds this knowledge comforting somehow. As if, until this point, there was still a possibility that Lucy was just indulging Stephanie because she felt bad for her. This is proof that Lucy feels the same way Stephanie does, proof that, unlike words or gestures, can’t be faked.
Lucy is in the perfect position to whisper into Stephanie’s ear.
“Not to ruin the moment, but god damn I really wanna suck your dick if you’ll let me.”
Stephanie’s cheeks turn even redder, which she hadn’t thought was possible.
“I, uh, wh—sure, I—if you want to, then that’s—I’d—yeah?”
Lucy flashes Stephanie a toothy grin. She rolls over, sits up on the edge of the bed, and unbuckles the belt holding her dress in place, then in one motion, pulls her dress up over her head and off onto the floor.
Stephanie instinctively averts her gaze, before realising that Lucy wouldn’t have undressed in front of her if she didn’t want her to look. She has a full view of Lucy’s back. Her ponytail is a little unkempt at the moment, and she can see the black roots starting to grow in at the base. As her eyes trail downwards, she drinks in every detail – a mole under her right shoulder blade, the visible musculature beneath her skin, a patch of slightly darker vellus hair near her tailbone, a small scar on her left hip. She’s perfect.
Her lacy underwear are a pale blue (to Steph’s surprise – she had imagined them as black), and they frame Lucy’s butt beautifully – especially the way it’s squished from her sitting down.
Lucy stands up and turns to face Stephanie, who’s still marveling at her form. Lucy picks up a pillow and points to the edge of the bed.
“Sit here.”
Stephanie will never complain about clear instructions. She sits, legs off the side of the bed, excited but mildly panicked. Lucy drops the pillow on the floor, just under Steph’s feet, and sinks to her knees in front of her. She puts her hands on Stephanie’s thighs and looks up at her, grinning.
“Hi.”
Stephanie can’t even respond.
Lucy notices a stray lock of hair on her face. She slips the scrunchie off and bundles her hair back. As she reties her ponytail, Stephanie notices the way Lucy’s breasts change shape and flatten as she raises her arms, and the thick black hair unapologetically peeking from her armpits. She continues to be perfect.
Lucy reaches under Steph’s skirt, around her hips, and grabs the edge of her tights, pulling them down past her stripy underwear to her knees. She lifts the edge of the skirt, leans forward and presses her cheek against Steph’s bulge for a short while, closing her eyes. Stephanie’s heart is beating out of her chest. She’s discovering that she enjoys this a lot.
Lucy pulls back the edge of Steph’s underwear with one finger, and reaches the other hand in to retrieve Stephanie’s cock. The tip is dripping wet. She holds it in her hand and watches the way it gently pulses. She rests it on her face. She inhales deeply, then sighs contentedly.
“Not gonna lie, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you walked in the door.”
Stephanie is completely paralysed with arousal.
Lucy extends her tongue, running it carefully along the underside from the base of Steph’s dick to the very tip, where she suddenly envelops the head with her soft lips, sending a wave of pleasure through Stephanie’s body. Lucy’s tongue circles her tip, then dives into her foreskin, extracting any trace of precum she can find.
It’s a very powerful sensation in a very sensitive spot, and Steph can’t help but cry out. Lucy lets Steph’s cock fall out of her mouth with a pop, in a state of pure bliss.
“God, you taste incredible.”
“Um, thank yo—AH!”
Lucy looks up, an innocent expression on her face and seven inches of Stephanie buried in her throat. She winks. Stephanie completely melts, falling back onto her elbows.
The warm, wet walls of Lucy’s throat are like nothing she’s ever felt. The sight of Lucy looking up at her with her cock in her mouth is seared into Steph’s mind, and she’ll be thinking about it very frequently over the coming weeks.
And more than anything, Stephanie is incredibly impressed by Lucy’s technical ability. Until now, she hadn’t met anyone who could swallow her entire length like it was nothing. She wonders how much is experience, how much is natural talent, and how much is pure enthusiasm. Probably a mix of all three.
After a good fifteen seconds of holding Stephanie’s womanhood inside her, Lucy finally leans her head back until it pops free again. She breathes deeply, her trachea no longer obstructed. She’s got a big smile plastered across her face, and her eyes are unfocused and watering slightly. Still perfect.
Stephanie marvels at how unapologetically horny Lucy is. She admires it deeply. She aspires someday to match it, and is taking mental notes. Normally Stephanie would feel awkward about having someone pleasure her without reciprocation, but she suspects that Lucy may be enjoying herself even more than she is.
Lucy goes back in, once again effortlessly taking in Steph’s entire length. Steph’s back arches. Lucy starts to move up and down Steph’s shaft, each motion of her head forcing a new cute noise from Stephanie’s throat. It feels amazing.
Stephanie again finds herself in no-thoughts mode, focused only on processing the incoming sensations and rewarding Lucy with her reactions. She’s received enough compliments on her gasps and moans over the last few months that she knows Lucy will enjoy them as well.
She looks down at Lucy, hard at work, eyeliner smudged, breath heavy, cheeks flushed. She’s once again struck by how beautiful she is. She hasn’t, for a single second, stopped being perfect.
Steph muses that she would really like to kiss her, before slowly coming to the realisation that she can actually make that happen, and Lucy would almost certainly be into it. Like 99% sure. Right? What’s the worst that could happen? Actually, don’t answer that.
After a brief moment of psyching herself up, she places her hands on either side of Lucy’s face and gently but firmly pulls her head upwards, her cock yet again falling free from Lucy’s mouth and landing moistly on her thigh.
“Wha—”
Stephanie presses her lips against Lucy’s, and after a brief moment of disorientation, Lucy enthusiastically kisses back. Stephanie’s tongue enters Lucy’s mouth, and she can taste herself. She does taste good, doesn’t she?
The kiss is sloppy in the most lewd and hedonistic way. Shame is the furthest thing from either of their minds as they both revel in the wet, squishy embrace of lips and tongues, the taste of Steph’s cock, the hot, ragged breaths, and the haze of lust they’re both lost in.
“Mpfhhh…”
Single-minded in her goal, but not wanting to stop making out, Lucy puts her hand to work in place of her mouth, eliciting more cute sounds from Stephanie. Her other hand makes its way up Steph’s body and firmly grabs Steph’s tit, pressing in with her thumb to tease her nipple through the padding of her bra.
All of this stimulation is very effectively bringing Stephanie closer and closer to release, and Lucy notices the pitch and intensity of Steph’s vocalisations increasing. She breaks the kiss for a moment.
“Let me know when you’re about to cum. I want you to finish in my throat.”
Stephanie is completely and utterly stunlocked. Lucy’s matter-of-fact tone while saying one of the hottest things she’s ever heard is exactly Stephanie’s shit, it turns out. It’s enough to take her from “getting pretty close” to “seconds away from orgasm,” and she realises she needs to warn Lucy, as requested.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna—”
In a fraction of a second, Lucy kneels back down and plunges Stephanie’s cock back into the warm, wet confines of her mouth, sending Steph careening over the edge. Stephanie’s whole body spasms involuntarily, her muscle groups tensing and relaxing in waves, her voice unrestrained, almost screaming, even cracking a little bit.
Lucy swirls her tongue around the tip, squeezes the base of Steph’s shaft, and continues pumping up and down, gleefully leaning into the overstimulation, as Steph can barely control her body amidst the onslaught of sensation.
It’s too much. It’s almost painful, and Steph taps Lucy’s head, signalling surrender and requesting mercy. Though she almost wants to ignore it and push further, Lucy isn’t quite mean enough to do that to Stephanie, and relents as her orgasm peaks and starts to subside, with a few aftershocks causing her legs and abdomen to quake. Lucy’s head is still buried between Steph’s legs.
Steph starts to feel a little insecure again. The HRT has caused some changes, and she’s worried she might have disappointed Lucy.
“Um, yeah, sorry if you were expecting more, I don’t really produce much these days.”
Lucy stands up, bringing her head level with Steph’s, her mouth still closed. She takes Steph by the chin and presses her lips against hers, before opening wide and allowing a deluge of warm, gooey liquid to flow into Steph’s mouth. Steph has never been so pleasantly surprised to have been proven wrong, as she feels the mixture of Lucy’s saliva and her own cum spread around her mouth, with the help of Lucy’s tongue. She probably would have considered the idea of this disgusting a few years ago, but a lot can change in a short time.
Stephanie swallows. The aftertaste remains.
Stephanie’s brain needs a few minutes to reboot, during which time Lucy pushes her over onto her back, climbs onto the bed next to her, and snuggles up to her side, arms firmly wrapped around her, affectionately nuzzling into the side of her neck.
“Wow.”
Lucy smiles up at Stephanie.
“Didya have fun?”
“You’re amazing.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
Lucy giggles. Steph pulls her closer, attempting to express the extent of her gratitude through the medium of hugs.
They stay like that for a while.
—
YOU DIED flashes across the screen again.
“These skeletons are actually fucked.”
“You’re not really supposed to fight them yet, that’s the game telling you to try a different path and come back later.”
“But I see items over there!”
“You could run past the skeletons and try and grab them before they get you?”
“But if I die I’ll lose all my shit again!”
“You just levelled up, you barely have any souls anyway.”
“Yeah but it’s about the principle of the thing!”
“What principle?”
“Shut up!”
Lucy giggles. Steph smiles.
“It’s almost like this game is supposed to be hard or something.”
“Kiss my ass!”
“I’d love to.”
Steph gives Lucy a cheeky smile. Lucy pauses, genuinely considering the proposal for a moment.
“Maybe later, ok? I’ve got a game to beat. So if I’m not supposed to go to The Bone Zone, where am I supposed to go?”
“Ok, so from the bonfire, if you turn right, past the well, there’s a path up the cliff…”