Damn the pink torpedoes, full speed ahead!
From Create Your Own Story
Daphie smacks her fist into her palm. "You were just looking so yummy there, Swainybottoms. But I think you'll look even yummier with a little color. Like black and blue."
You look away, then whirl and leap. She casually sidesteps, doesn't even raise her hands, and says, "Oh come on, you don't think I was going to fall for--"
As you get your feet under you and turn, she gasps, steps back, covers her horror-struck expression with her hand, and points at your crotch. "--What the hell is that?"
You straighten from your action crouch and grin at your nails nonchalantly, proudly displaying your extensive pleasure tool, which is currently, as you were only just commenting, Muhammad Ali pretty. "Oh, come on. You don't think I'm going to fall for that, do you?"
You glance back up at Daphie. Daphie is not there.
A sinking feeling overtakes you. "Gurk?" you express. Somewhere on the internet, you reflect, someone is visiting sadtrombone.com, finger poised to click on the button.
Then the sole of Daphie's running shoe contacts the crown of your skull. Stars explode across your brain. You experience a moment of delirium, droolingly, incandescently happy, at one with all things. Even with the sexual organs of the woman who just kicked you in the head. It's a bit more spiritual than what you're used to. Then you drop on your back like a bag of dirt, your erect cock waving like a spastic flag as you groan and roll.
"Easy.. all too easy," says Daphie, flipping the carbonite freezing device Oops! Wrong story. My bad. "I knew it! I knew she was evil!" whispers your cock. Quiet, you.
"How you like me now, bizotchie," she says in authentic street, dancing around you like a boxer. Your cock lunges at her as she moves around, a strange combination of guard dog, and needle seeking true north. A sort of chihuahua-ey dog*, but a very sizeable needle.
In your daze, Daphie's legs prancing right beside you, you can't help but get in a sidelong ogle at her pussy, contrary to the earnest advocacy of your malepart. As Daphie turns, the dim light in the spacious shrub ripples along the feminine glisten of sweat on her flat stomach, and beneath the subtle shine, her humid, soft, dark hirsution, appearing to float as her thighs move lightly around it. The scent of wax and grottoes infiltrates you.
Though the thermostat inside the bush does seem abruptly to have turned up several degrees, maybe your cock was wrong. Rather than dull your mind, the vision sharpens you with the reminder of your aim. The low echo of nymph-like gasps of pleasure reaches your ears, as from a mountain cave. You lay still a moment longer, feigning dizziness; then, calling on every lesson of judo that you've never had -- which is, incidentally, all of them -- and that is, like, a lot of judo lessons to call on -- you swing your legs at her ankles. "Oof," she gasps as her naked ass fetchingly hits the dirt.
You blink. Maybe you should call on your secret non-existant judo more often.
* Indeed, a lap dog in more ways than one.
| Status | ||
| Health | Horny | Location: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
