Little Spoon

A warm pair of breasts were pressed into Maria's back. An arm flung carelessly over her arm pinned her down. Gentle snores came from behind her. A soft cock lay trapped between her thighs, but not actually in her.

Maria swallowed, scared to move. The lights were out. Someone had thrown a sheet over the both of them. She couldn't hear the noise of the club anymore. That meant it must be near dawn—the club shut down and closed up for the night. The young woman's cheeks burned as she imagined the dancers finding them there, tiptoeing around them, careful not to wake them up.

It had been a long time since she had been the little spoon. She had forgotten what it was like, to be curled up with someone else around you. The heat of their body. The utter, primal mammalian trust involved. It was a purer sensation than she ever remembered. Lois just smelled like...a woman. Soft, clean, a little sweaty but only in that post-sex way, not body odor. Not some lumbering neanderthal with body hair like a sasquatch and a tiny dick constantly sharking her in the small of her back.

Now what? Maria asked herself. She couldn't stay like this forever. The young woman shifted her hips, raising her hand to hopefully pry the dickgirl's arm off of her.

Something moved between her legs. Maria froze. It was the cock. Not quite tumescent, but her little movement had definitely awakened it...or maybe it was just morning wood? She had no way of knowing. Still, Maria didn't dare move as it grew steadily harder, until the full prick was trapped between her thighs, brushing straight against her cunt.

The throbbing heat of it was almost unbearable, and despite the aching soreness between her legs, Maria had to fight against the urge to just lift her leg and tuck it back inside of her.

Then she realized that she couldn't hear Lois Lane snoring.