Sweet Home

You stumble up the stairs to your apartment, unlock your door, and practically fall inside. This has been too much for one night. And you didn't even get your kebab.

You kick off the giant shoes and wiggle out of the jeans, letting them fall to the floor. You head over to your mostly empty kitchen area and, struggling to reach the shelf it's on, grab the unopened instant mix oatmeal box you bought years ago. You fill a bowl with oatmeal and water and put it in the microwave. As you watch it spin you think about all the things you'd rather be eating, but there's no way you're going out again tonight.

You carry the bowl to the table and slump into the chair. The sky outside your window is getting brighter, it's almost sunrise. You consider the oatmeal for a bit. Bland, slimy-looking, grey. You lift a spoonful and let it fall back down with an unappetising splat. You sigh and lean back in your chair. This night didn't go as you wanted.

You become aware of how uncomfortable your shirt feels against your chest. The coarse material and ill-fitting cut is irritating your nipples when you move. You stand up and lift the shirt over your head, taking it off and throwing it on your bed. You catch sight of yourself in the full-length mirror by the door. It's a little out of place in your sparse apartment, but it was there when you moved in.

Cassie is looking back at you, naked but for a pair of oversized boxers. Her tiny tits sport pink, erect nipples from your shirt. You go over to the mirror and take a closer look. You didn't think much about it when you introduced her and Mrs Daniels, but she's beautiful. Not in a perfect Sex Goddess way like Viv, but more... elfine. Her skin is smooth and pale, her hands and arms are slender and graceful. Her face is more cute than sexy, but there's an understated eroticism in her skinny yet curvy body that drags your mind gutterwards. You think about the eager horniness she keeps hidden under her demure exterior, how she twitched and shook at being stepped and sat on.

You pull the boxers down and toss them aside too. Her fuzzy, well-kept crotch completes the look she tries so hard to hide with her huge glasses and conservative clothes; that of a sexy, barely restrained woman.

You lift a hand and cup her left breast. It's small, even her tiny hand is enough to cover it. You give a gentle squeeze. The sensation is strange, like you're both fondling someone else and being fondled yourself, and you feel a warmth begin to spread below your navel. You shift your grip and softly pinch the nipple between index finger and thumb. It's not something you enjoy having done to you, but Cassie's body feels differently. You feel the nipple stiffen further, growing hard, and the warmth envelops your pubis mons. How much of this is feedback from Cassie? How much is you? Again you feel like both fondler and fondlee, though so far it's just the best of both.

You bring your right hand down to Cassie's crotch. You run your fingers through her sparse pubic hair, grabbing a handful and pulling just the tiniest bit. The warmth turns into a blush as it travels down and in. You feel blood rushing, skin growing puffier, a sense of wetness building. It's like getting an erection, but over a larger area, and with more parts. You feel some things stiffen and others soften, and there's a deep emotional knowledge concentrated on your pussy, something you haven't felt before, this urge of being done to, instead of doing unto. The arousal of a submissive woman is really complex.

You are convinced that this is Cassie's feedback to your touch. You are still in here though, and your hand is acting on your feelings. You are grabbing Cassie. There's something deeply arousing about the intense, immediate, and explicit feedback you get from each touch. You know exactly what you're doing to her, and it is turning you on. You can feel your cock harden, though you're not sure exactly how that works. Where is it? Ah well.

You let go of the hair and trail your index and middle finger down towards her slit. Again the sensation of an erection spanning your entire crotch makes itself known, as you feel a sympathetic slight throb from under your skin when you approach her clit. You haven't even touched it directly yet, and it is already being stimulated. Damn.

You slide Cassie's fingers down, parting her labia from the top. You feel the tips touch the slope of her hood, and the full-crotch feeling seems to intensify and concentrate into the tiny little nub. You continue down, letting her clit catch between her fingers, and you push until you go past it. That tiny flick when you cross her clit is making Cassie's body flood with excitement and urge, you can feel her growing wetter, and a feeling of... opening?

The feedback you're feeling is intoxicating. You've never known on such a fundamental level that a woman is ready to fuck, that she wants it wholeheartedly. It's a mixed feeling of intimacy and power and control.

You look at Cassie again in the mirror. She's flushed now, her pale skin taking on a reddish hue in places, and her vulva is noticeably puffier and redder. She's breathing hard. Is it you or her? Or does the distinction not matter?

You go to pick up the chair and bring it over to the mirror. You grab your backpack and take out the QEBP. Next to it you notice the plastic bag with Viv in it. Oh yeah. You forgot about that. Eh, you'll get around to it.

You put the QEBP on the seat of the chair and make it flatten. Then focus.

The QEBP ripples and moves, and begins to bulge in the middle. Rising proudly like a sword from a lake is your penis, erect and quivering. You look down at it from above, a strange out of body experience that just makes the situation hotter. You give it an exploratory clench with your phantom kegel muscles, and it twitches in response.

Both you and Cassie, and the Cassie-You, want release. Want to rub this urge. You turn to face the mirror again, and bring both hands down to her vulva, spreading her inner labia as wide as you can, exposing her vagina. Looking at it in the mirror, you slowly sit down, attempting to guide her onto you. You've never fucked someone from their point of view before, a kind of second person sex, but it goes well, and you can feel yourself touch her opening, and her opening being touched by you. You balance yourself there for a second, feeling her wetness start soaking your glans. Then, you let gravity take over, lean back, and feel yourself smoothly slip right in.

You go all the way down, her ass hitting the seat as you enter her fully. You're not huge, but you're not small either, and this short woman is at capacity as your glans bottoms out a hair's breadth before her cervix. You yelp, feeling Cassie's feedback at being so utterly and suddenly filled, and you feel your own cock twitch inside her.

In the mirror you see Cassie, naked, on a chair, mouth open, hands at her sides and shoulders hunched, collecting herself from the stimulation. It's at this point you would normally start fucking in earnest, not giving her time to make the sensation mundane and containable, but you're just a cock. The limitation is frustrating. You make Cassie lift her bottom up, watching your glistening self reappear underneath her, before she slowly lowers herself down again, penetrating her anew.

You can't do much more with this, and it irks you. You want more ****, more speed.

A tingling sensation behind you makes you lean to the side and see in the mirror how the black-purple of the QEBP crawls up the chair back. It covers the area behind you, and you suddenly feel an exit, or maybe an entrance. You stretch out your arms, and they appear behind Cassie, moving out of the QEBP and reaching around her. You fumble and grasp until you catch a hold of the underside of her-your thighs, right before the knee, and lift her up. Cassie is hoisted up, her legs spreading to bare her stuffed pussy. Your cock sprouts from the chair up to her, parting her lips and disappearing into her folds, slick with her fluids. Her knees come up to her shoulders, and with the disembodied freedom of movement you now have, you snake your arms around and up, locking her knees in your elbows and clasping both hands behind her neck in a full nelson.

Her chin is pressed against her chest, her modest boobs squished together between her knees, her pussy wide open and filled with you. You see the scene both through her eyes and through your mind's eye, and her submission makes you pause to admire it. She breathes very quickly and forcefully, her-your arms spread out to the sides and fingers twitching in anticipation.

You plunge her forward, pushing her down on your cock and making her pussy lips hit the chair bottom with a wet slap. It's deeper and this time you do hit her cervix, and even though it's uncomfortable for the both of you, even painful, neither care, and you lift her again, slamming her down once more.

It's not tender or intimate now, but that's not what she wants. Her feelings belong to another, and if it's not with her love she's just happy to be fucked like she wasn't there. You oblige, and bang her down on the chair again and again, pushing her angry red clit and vulva against the chair as you fill her up. This sex is raw, and inconsiderate, and she couldn't be happier.

It doesn't take long for her first orgasm. In fact, she's a bit like Viv in that her orgasms seem to start small, then continue and build to a final one. You haven't mastered this skill, your orgasms are big and final and triumphant, and you feel the pressure of yours building somewhere in the unseen space where your balls are held. A thought strikes you, if your orgasms are disembodied, and neither your balls nor your prostate, nor anything else is real right now, where does the cum come from? Where is it made? Who says how much there is?

You decide that you do. You hold back, and start moving Cassie faster and faster, making her long red hair whip back and forth, a glugging sound coming from her mouth as her throat is pressed down against her chest with each pounding, and you reach just the edge of your orgasm, right where you would explode, and refuse. You go faster still, harder, feeling the pressure reach a critical point, then exceed it, and continue to pound Cassie into oblivion. Spit is flying from her mouth, her pussy is firing orgasm after orgasm, and you reach what you think is your limit, where something far too big is held back in an invisible space, and you scream though your mouth doesn't exist, and you feel something rush out of liminal space into reality as cum floods your cock and into Cassie's pussy, expanding her vagina and rushing down and out. A stream of cum runs down the sides of your cock as you churn Cassie on top of it. The stream continues, and flies everywhere as it puddles on the chair and starts to run down the sides. You slam Cassie's pussy into the puddle again and again, smearing her ass with your cum until you feel like there isn't a single more drop you can wring out, and you push her down, pressing on her neck, bending your cock against her cervix and grinding her pussy on your fluids. A final spurt makes its way up and out, squeezing a few drops against her battered vagina, and you finally feel spent.