Direct Neural Interface

Journal of Rowana, daughter of Rowetha
17 / 04 / 2120 of the Fourth Age, cont'd

Azzie could feel it when I licked the cock. The Orc cock had a direct neural interface, and I could see a cable snake up from the base of the dildo. I'd heard about synthpricks that enabled direct neural interface, though I'd never used one.

Porn stars with plug-and-play genitals. Folks who opted for cybernetic replacements, either because they were transgender or because they wanted something different than what nature had given them. I wasn't some blushing farmgirl anymore who had barely been aware of the possibilities modern medicine and prosthetics offered.

This was different though. This time I could see her breasts heave as my tongue stimulated whatever sensors were in the great green prick before me.

I didn't like sucking cock. I was attracted to women, after all. All about the breasts, pussy, the comfortable way my hand settled into a hip or cupped an asscheek, the sweet savor of their spit and tongue as our lips crushed together. Yet as I folded my lips over my teeth and opened wide to swallow that synthetic shaft, I heard Azzie moan in a way she never had before. The neural link triggered new sensations.

It was like I was fucking her in a whole new way.

My hands grabbed her hips as I **** myself forward, winced and choked as the tip of the dick hit the back of my throat. My momentary gurgle of distress seemed to drive her wild; the green hands clutched at my head and with that inhuman Uruk strength she **** the dildo forward, into my throat. My nose crushed almost painfully against that mithril-laced design woven into the skin above her pussy.

The **** of the thrust jammed the base of the dildo against her clit, and Azzie gave an appreciative growl as she held me in place, her pelvis gyrating as she ground herself against it. Tears leaked from my eyes as I struggled to fight my gag reflex...but that green dick wasn't going anywhere. Azzie's nails dug into the back of my skull as she humped my face with sudden, frantic need.

I didn't remember about the cum-substitute reservoir until the cock buzzed inside my mouth and something sticky exploded down my throat. The sound that Azzie made was somewhere between a cat's howl and a V8 engine roaring to life. It started deep in her chest and exploded out of her throat like an Orc warcry.

When she finally relaxed her grip and pulled the saliva-soaked toy from my mouth, I was coughing and hacking, sure some of that surprise cumshot had gone down into one of my lungs. Even as I retched, she dropped down onto her knees, cradled my face with her hands, raised me up—

Our lips locked with a savage intensity that threatened to burn my soul. One hot breath was trapped between us, her exhaling into my lungs, and I clung onto her hips for dear life. For a moment, I forgot all about the groceries in the car, the burned corpses in our trash pit, about money and danger and everything else. There was nothing in that moment but a shared passion that locked us both together.

From the doorway, Búrzi watched for a moment, yawned silently, and turned her attention back to survey the yard. As cats do.