You walk through the second one

You materialize on the sidewalk of a nondescript, cookie cutter suburban house. It’s night time, warm yellow street lights are the only thing illuminating the quiet cul de sac. You take cover behind the Subaru CrossTrek parked in the driveway, whipping out your cock to take a piss on the lesbian pride sticker on the lower bumper. Shaking out the last few dregs, you sneak up to the bay window, poking the tip of your head over the glass. A woman’s voice can be heard through the glass; if you put your ear up to it you can make out what she’s saying.

“Yeah, no it’s nothing major, I just have a crazy case of the sniffles. My nose is running like a faucet right now. I miss you too, Angela, but it’s probably best if I quarantine for a couple days. I’ll give you lots of kisses the next time I see you.” Creeping around the side, you check a few windows, hoping one of them’s unlocked.

And wouldn’t you know it, today’s your lucky day. A tiny bathroom window, just barely big enough for you to fit through, is cracked on the back corner of the house, you quietly slide the window up and shake your way through it. You tumble quietly onto a white tile floor, unclothing yourself as soon as you snap up to your feet. The door to the bathroom is open, a light down the hall indicates where you need to go.

Tip toeing quietly, you perch behind a recliner at the edge of the living room. Your target is still yapping on the phone, she still hasn’t spotted you yet, but you get a decent look at her from here.

Heavy bags under her eyes and a stuffy red nose indicate to you that her illness is the real deal, and the sound of her clearing her congested nostrils confirms it. She’s dressed comfortably, with black leggings that aren’t quite skin tight and a baggy zip up hoodie, unzipped just enough for you to gawk at her impressive cleavage. She has one of those dyke, mullet haircuts, with rough-cut bangs that just barely come down to her eyebrows. Roughly 5’ 2” tall, she appears to be in her mid to late 20s.

“No, of course I love our coffee dates!” She states in a reassuring voice. “I wouldn’t trade them for the whole world. I’m honestly so lucky to—CREAK” You duck behind the chair, the floor under you had just creaked. You hear the sound of timid foot steps slowly puttering towards you.

“Hello?” She calls out. To your amusement, she actually walks right past you, obliviously trudging down the hallway in pursuit of the noise with her phone on her chest.

“Oh, sorry, I thought I heard a sound. It must’ve been the house settling or something,” she blabs into her phone. Her footsteps are getting closer, you tense your muscles in anticipation.

Her heart drops to her stomach when she reaches the end of the hallway. An incredulous look of shock spreads across of her face, her phone clatters to the floor when she spots the butt naked home invader crouching behind her recliner. She stammers at you blankly, unable to find words to express herself.

“B-b-but, I… There aren’t s-s-supposed to b-be… M-m-men here…” she blubbers. You pounce on her, kicking her phone down the hallways while she continues stuttering like a retard.

“Th-They told me there wouldn’t be any m-m-men!” She whines, catatonically hyperventilating while you fumble with the zipper on her hoodie.

With a high pitched VVVVVVPPP, you rip her zipper down to her waist, her fat breasts dangling loosely behind a tank top with no bra. You peel off the sleeves of her hoodie and grope her through her shirt.

She stands straight up when your hands touch her flesh, grabbing at your hands with her back arched. “PLEASE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE, PLEASE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE, PLEASE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE,” she blubbers anxiously, pushing away from you and grabbing at your hands. You ignore her request, pinching her nipples hard while you dig your fingers into the meat of her tits.

Grabbing the collar of her tank top with both hands, you rip it cleanly down the middle. Her boobs bounce on her chest, coming to a halt draped over her skinny tummy. Fat, round, with pointy, perfectly proportioned nipples, her huge naturals spike an erection between your legs. The lesbian goes limp when she feels you press it against her ass.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no…” she whispers, sinking to the ground. She crosses her legs, expecting you to make for her pussy next. Chuckling, you position yourself behind her head and rub your throbbing meat rocket on her forehead.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not here for that,” you say reassuringly, caressing her lips with your finger. She snaps at your hand with her jaw, clamping it with her teeth like she was going to bite you. A puzzled expression unfolds on her face, she’s unable to sink her teeth into you. She opens her mouth wide and tries again, going for a full force bite, but again her teeth come to a halt a millimeter from your knuckle. You laugh loudly, this is your own personal universe, there’s no way a puny shade like her could bring harm to her own God. You tap your cock on her mouth, she mechanically swings her head back and opens wide. Her fingers flutter at her sides as she involuntarily unhinges her jaw like a python, swallowing your massive, throbbing erection whole.

You park yourself balls deep in her throat, smushing her bottom lip flat with your pelvis. She lets out a sick, congested cough, a web of mucous bursts from her nostrils, smearing into the ballsack draped over her cute, button-like nose. Gagged and unable to breathe through her stuffy nose, she soon starts to quiver underneath of you, every instinct tells her she needs to fight back, and yet, she’s unable to make any movements that would compromise her position. Her chest starts to spasm, she tries to breathe but her attempt at inhaling draws liquid into her airway. Rapidly, she inhales a tiny bit, exhales a tiny bit, sputtering back and forth on your cock like she’s beatboxing.

“PPFFFGGHHH-SCHHLK PPPFFFGH-SCHHLK PPFFFGGHHH-SCHHLK,” she chokes, her breasts jiggling like water. Paralyzed from the neck up, she frantically pounds the floor with both hands and feet, flailing as much as blowjob universe will let her. You finally pull out and give her a break.

“GUCK-GLARRGGGHHHH…” she retches. Chunky off-white vomit spills out of her mouth and drips down her face. She rolls over onto her hands and knees and blows her nose, shooting two sticky yellow ropes of snot onto the floor.

Just then, you hear a crackling sound down the hallway. The phone. The two of you make eye contact for a very long millisecond before both bolting down the hallway, you upright and her on her hands and knees. You reach the phone a millisecond before her, snatching it out of her grasp and bringing it up to your ear.

“Hi, yes, Angela? This is David,” you say politely into the microphone. A gruff, bull dyke voice answers you.

“Who the hell are you and where’s Lily?! Can you put me on with her please?!” Your victim, who you presume is Lily, tries to climb up your leg and grab the phone out of your hand, she freezes when you snatch her by her mullet.

“Oh, I’m just the guy skullfucking yourrrrr… Partner I’m assuming? You guys give me lesbo vibes. But anyways, she’s right here I can put you on the phone with her.” You hand the phone to Lily, who immediately starts pleading into the microphone.

“Angie you gotta help me, there’s a man in the house and I don’t know how he got—GLUGLUGLUGLUG!!!” You cut her off before she can finish, stuffing your cock into her mouth and facefucking her a half inch from the microphone. You hear her butch partner scream through the phone, immediately you snatch it out of Lily’s hand and put her on speaker.

“Angelaaaa! What do you think, hot right? Bet you wish you were here so you could double team her with me!”

“LISTEN YOU SICK FUCKING ASSHOLE, YOU BETTER HOPE YOU'RE GONE BEFORE I—CLICK” You hang up the call, tossing the phone across the room.

“God, shes annoying isn’t she?” You say to Lily, who’s starting to go purple from oxygen deprivation. “I don’t know how you put up with that, seriously.” Lily sputters, unable to suppress her gag reflex any longer, twin rivers of common-cold-yellow mucous shoot out of her nostrils and dribble down the side of your nutsack. You shake her head back and forth, using her throat like your own personal pocket pussy.

You pull out of her mouth and grab her by her hair, leading her on all fours over to the recliner you first spotted her in. Sick, dizzy, and congested, she pants with her tongue out like an overheated dog. You take a seat in the armchair while she waits for you obediently on her hands and knees.

“Sit,” you command, making the gesture you make when you’re training a puppy. She kneels at your feet with her hands curled in front of her chest, still panting for you like a begging dog.

“Strip,” you bark, pointing at the wet leggings clinging to her skinny legs. Without hesitating, she peels off her pants and underwear and reassumes her kneeling position.

“Good dog.” You tussle her hair with your fingers. She continues panting at you with a vacant expression on her face, with bloodshot, unfocused eyes practically crossed together. They somehow remind you of the old chocolate lab you had when you were a little kid, reddish orange like a tequila sunrise. Chuckling to yourself, you lower her head onto your cock, snaking it past her tonsils and down her phlegmy, congested throat.

Engulfed in slimey, wet throat, you gently pump your hips and shake Lily’s head back and forth, leaning forward and planting a red handprint on her tight, pale ass. Her body tenses up in response, but she remains putty in your hands, resting her hands on the seat of the chair between your legs. Guttural chokes and retches soak your groin with thick, milky vomit, a particularly violent gag clears her sinuses onto your stomach. You pause to smear her face into the spit, snot, and puke concoction, resuming your throatfucking when you feel her face is good and sloppy. The thick, stringy mixture clings to her face, connecting it to your abdomen like a sticky, slimey web. Pausing again to rub her face into your crotch, you lift your legs over her shoulders and wrap them around her head.

With a roar, you buck your hips against her cheeks, riding her face like a cowboy at a rodeo. Lily gags over and over, each retch sending milky, watery streams of puke out of her inflamed nostrils. The slop pools between your legs, the scissor lock you have around her face forms an airtight seal around her cheeks. What little you can see of her face burns bright red through the sticky puddle of slop pooling up between your legs. You smack the side of her titty hard and cinch your legs together, holding her head in place while you erupt in her slimey, wet throat.

Bubbles surface in the pool of slop between your legs as Lily gags out the last of the oxygen left in her lungs. She writhes pathetically in your grip, too weak to free herself from the chokehold around her head. She finally goes limp between your legs, unconscious from the severe oxygen deprivation you’ve put her through. You continue pulsing in her gullet, as the God of blowjob universe your pleasure is much more important than some random whore’s need for air. Semen starts to creep out of her nostrils, rising to the surface of the pond of fluid trapped between your legs. Her throat no longer convulses around your dick, you have to milk out the last couple drops of cum with your hips.

The puddle of throat juices splashes onto the floor when you release your grip around Lily’s face. You expect her to shoot up and scream bloody murder or something, but to your surprise her head falls to the side motionless, still impaled by your massive dick. Fluids slowly trickle down the side of her face, you unthroat her and lay her on her side. A few very long seconds go by without any motion from her, and you start to grow concerned. A creep, a facefucker, a degenerate pervert, you are all of these things, but a murderer you are not.

You prod gingerly at her stomach, you don’t know the first thing about CPR and it’s starting to look like she needs it. You press hard between her titties, breathing a sigh of relief when she sputters back to life. Another pink door materializes behind you, with your mission complete you grab the handle and start to open the door. Just then, a voice booms above you, sort of like an intercom.

“PLEASE WAIT. DON’T OPEN THAT DOOR,” it echoes.