/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance

Politely tell her no.

Need good grades to get good job.

Besides fuck working in fast food. As soon as you shift ends fucking evaporate out of there.

Number 3 is the one for me!

>>128343

Nigga who goes to a pool at winter.

>>128345

Don't you want bigger lungs?

>>128346

Bigger brain is better.

>>128346

No, fuck lungs.

>>128339

1, in exchange for a blowjob

>>128347

>doing homework makes you smart

Really man?

>>128339

Tell her yes, but only if we get a blowjob from her in the walk-in fridge.

If not, we do option 2

>>128339

1.

We could be doing homework all day and we probably still won't get it done in time. At least with 1 we get a favor. We've been jacking off to opportunities like this, we can't miss it.

Is she giving us a subliminal message through the words she emphasized?

Anyway, no 1.

She will pretty much owe us a favor.

2.

Math homework ain't gonna do itself, and you can't be a doormat just waiting on your boss' beck and call.

Is she trying to send us a subliminal message through the words she emphasized?

Anyway, no. 1

She will pretty much owe us a favor.

>>128368

>>128366

Fucking hell hotwheels

No 1. seems to be the best option.

>>128339

Number one. We can always copy someones else's homework.

>>128339

Do one then invite her over for swim.

>>128339

Number 1. Then we go and change our name, it's far too odd reading my name in this

>>128339

1 please

Wonder what sort of monstergirl she is

>>128402

Actually, I take that back. I think I know what she is, married.

Number 1 fo sho.

Gotta pull in some mad guap, yo.

>>128339

>1) Accept. May as well get in good with the hot boss, right?

It sounds innocent enough, do what she says!

>>128402

Please op, this.

imagine the salt to be mined

>>128588

i'm good at words i promise

>>128585

If are boss is a cait sith then we should do 4, ALLAHU AKBAR ALLAHU AKBAR ALLAHU AKBAR.

>>128585

And then the quest goes to shit.

>>128669

The MC might be though, we can never know.

Besides, DEUS VULT won't blow shit the fuck up, unless you take creative liberties.

Alright, calling a lock on the vote. Looks like we're going to work.

Will type it up when I can. See how work goes.

>next entry

With visions of May's smiling face and other parts of her flying through your mind, you blurt out the only answer that seems appropriate.

"Y-Yes! Uh, I mean, yeah, I can do that." You smile like a doofus before remembering she can't see you.

"Oh splendid!" she exclaims. "When can you be here?"

"Uh, that's the thing," you say, "I sorta don't have one…. I used to! But since moving, I've just been…doing the bus…thing…" you trail off lamely, your rambling cut short by your own shame. A panicky part of you is sure she'll laugh at you, and forever remember you as the loser with no car.

But her voice puts an end to those fears, as she simply exclaims "Oh my! That must be excruciatingly inconvenient. Tell you what: just give me your address and I'll have one of the girls COME pick you up!"

"Aww, not gonna do it yourself?" you ask, feeling just a bit emboldened by her words.

"I can't leave the store, you know that, mister!" she chides you, a note of teasing coming across. "Be sure to get ready. Sending Serena right~ over~."

She hangs up before you can say another word. You look at the phone, then down at your boxer-clad form.

"Damn. Why did it have to be Serena?" you ask no one.

—

15 minutes later, a freshly-showered version of yourself is standing outside your apartment. The sky is bright and clear, with only a nip of early spring chill on the wind.

You hear the truck before you see it. The engine roars loud enough to rattle windowframes. Over the roar, you can hear the distorted growling and atonal guitar-riffs of Norwegian heavy metal. The truck itself is rust-orange with mudflap and artificial smokestacks. A chromed-out grill stares you down.

The driverside window rolls down and a stocky sharkgirl sticks her head out. She flashes you a smile filled with about a million large sharp teeth.

"Get in, nerd," Serena shouts.

>cont.

>>128739

>norwegian heavy metal

first thing i thought of was embed related even though they're from sweden

>metalhead sharkgirl

Thank you

>>128748

>>128749

Fucking hotwheels

>>128752

Gee, I wonder?

>>128752

Indeed, I wonder?

>>128759

>>128764

Fix yer fucking site, hotwheels.

>cont.

Ignoring Serena's casually hurled insult, you walk over to the passenger side of the truck. The vehicle is a beast, under carriage high enough you could crawl under it with no discomfort.

You throw open the door only to be greated by a collapsing pile of clothes that smell like stale weed. Not surprising, really; it was no great secret she toked on her breaks.

You pick up the clothes, managing to drop a discarded bra for the second time, and throw them in the back. You're about to do the same with her bra when Serena snatches it from your hand.

"I been looking for that," she says, as if she'd found it herself, and drops it into her lap. "Don't just stand there with ya dick in ya hand, get in the truck."

You step up to get in, but very quickly realize that no way is it going to be that easy. Serena's beast is just too high off the ground. You look down for a step, but there isn't any.

How the hell does Serena get in this thing? You glance briefly at her to see her looking at you with an impatient expression. She's only as tall as you are.

You turn your foot sideways to try and boost up off the runnels on the side. No luck; the runnel is too narrow and your foot slides off. You can feel the heat of embarassment on your face and the pounding of your heart.

You entertain for a moment the idea of just going back inside and getting a step ladder. But you decide instead to square your shoulder, wave good-bye to your dignity, and dive in head first.

You land face down on a seat cushion that smells of marijuana-scented ass. Your butt is still out in the cold, but at least half of you is in the cab. You grunt as you turn over, trying to swing a leg up into the truck.

Your exertions are interrupted by a simple phrase from Serena. "Grab-bar."

"Bwah?" you ask intelligently.

"Grab-bar," Serena says again, irritation evident on her face, "There's a grab-bar right inside the door. Over your head."

You turn to where she indicated. Sure enough, you see what appears to be a reinforced "oh shit" handle.

"I'm an idiot," you grumble as you pull youself in and close the door.

"Fuckin right you are," Serena says. You're silent as she pulls the truck out of the apartment complex's parking lot.

The music changes to something a lot faster but no less heavy. The rapid thrumming bass vibrates in your chest. You think you can feel your heartbeat get irregular and weak. With a hand on your chest, you close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. It helps sometimes.

After a trip that was really longer than it should have been, you arrive work. The sign is off and the inside is dark, but you can see the morning shift moving around inside.

Right as you pull into a parking space Serena stops you from opening the door. "Hey check this out, man," she says, digging in the center console.

The sharkgirl beams as she pulls out an elaborate piece of glassware, a lighter, and a bag of weed. She holds the bag up for you to see.

"Now I know yer a pussy," she mocks, "but you want a hit?"

1) Inform her you'd rather she kiss your ass. It's been nothing but aggravation and frustration since you got up, and her shit-talk broke the camel's back.

2) Refuse and just go inside. You don't feel like starting a fight, but there's so many good reasons not to get high with her.

3) Take a puff or two. Maybe she'll ease up if she sees we are gutless, and she DID offer.

4) Hit that pipe like Mike Tyson. You'll show this fish-bitch who's the pussy!

>>128774

4)

Not only that, but have a contest as to who can take the biggest hit.

Go hard or go home.

>>128774

2.

As tempting as it may be we aren't going to let ourself fail at everything because we wanted to get high.

>>128774

2. Winners don't do drugs.

>>128774

1, but let's literally end up kissing her ass.

>>128774

2

>>128774

2. Let's not do drugs.

>>128774

4 and if ya don't choke it ain't workin

>2) Refuse and just go inside. You don't feel like starting a fight, but there's so many good reasons not to get high with her.

We're not niggers, we will be sober when we go to work!

>>128774

2., being high could royally fuck up chances of getting work done

>>128813

>Implying you have to be a nigger to show up at work high as fuck

>>128774

2

>2) Refuse and just go inside. You don't feel like starting a fight, but there's so many good reasons not to get high with her.

I agree with >>128813

We ain't some slacking piece of shit.

>>128774

4)

We must not do drugs, and we must refuse her offer the bad-ass way. Also maybe that'll teach her some manners.

>>128774

2, but do it in a way that we don't sound like a bitch, Use an excuse, but a good excuse that isn't medical.

>>128774

2, but tell her you'll rain check a hit for after work. Our tolerance is probably low so one hit would fuck us up for a few hours, something we don't need when working around friers and preasure cookers.

>>128774

2. WINRARS DuNT DU DROG

>>128955

more dubs

>>128955

>>128877

The dubs have spoken. Bringing down a vote lock. Next entry up soon(ish), work allowing.

>>128774

>next entry

Snippets from an old anti-drug campaign flit through your mind as you look nervously at the bag of weed in Serena's calloused hand. As if to tempt you more, she gives the bag a shake. Looking back to her face, you plaster on a weak smile and force a laugh.

"Nah, I don't want to smoke all your stash," you say.

Serena rolls her eyes with an exasperated "Whatever, nerd," opens the bag and digs out a pinch of bud. She diligently packs it in the pipe, focused on her task. Swinging open the door, you slide down and turn to see her still packing in weed.

"You, uh, you coming" you stammer. She hasn't even turned off the engine.

Still not looking at you, Serena shakes her head. She looked oddly girlish with her shaggy hair swaying like that. "In a sec. Just tell May I'm having triuble putting it in park."

You nod and move to shut the door. "Thanks for the ride"

"Whatever, nerd."

You slam the door and walk across the empty parking lot. The particular Southern Fried Chicken location you work at sits next to a rather raucous danceclub. Management and the corporate honchos must love it for the late-night drunk rush, but it leaves the parking lot a beer bottle bedecked mess. Your work boots crunch on the shattered remains of one such, then you stoop to pick up one of the rare whole bottles. Still, it's a better morning than some; not a puddle of vomit or used condom in sight.

Coming up to the front door, you're surprised when it suddenly swings wide to reveal the smiling, but exhausted, face of your smallest coworker.

"Jeez Chrissie," you blurt out, "you look rough. What happened?"

The dormouse pushes her glasses back up her nose and shakes her head. "Only about, ah!" She interrupts herself with wide yawn. You think you hear a crack from her jaw.

She waves you into the store, then recovers from her yawn. "Only about 8 hours. My cousin insisted on keeping me up to drink together." She grimaces. "All she brought was Old Charter."

You grimace in sympathy. "Ugh. Paint remover."

Chrissie nods and gives another, less terrifying, yawn. "May's in the walk-in. I think she wants you to put the new stuff away, then rotate and date everything."

"Thanks a lot," you say as you turn to head back into the kitchen. Without thinking about it, you raise a hand to her head. Then you catch youself. Chrissie is, You think about your age. but she looks about eleven, so you find yourself treating her like a kid. Which she abjectly hates.

A half-second too late, you set you hand down on her shoulder in a friendly pat which you hope does come off too weird. Chrissie either doesn't notice or just chooses to say nothing. Afraid of fucking up further, you hustle to the kitchen.

>cont. when computer stops being a faggot

>>129162

Warmly waiting, OP.

>>129162

>cont. Christ but writing this was a slog

The kichen is in shambles. Boxes of fresh supplies lay scattered everywhere. The food prep table is covered in containers; some empty, some full of flour, spices, sauce, or vegetables. A massive puddle of water spreads out across the floor. A long-handled brush leans against the wall in the middle of the puddle.

In short, it was awful. Your heart sinks into you boots at the thought of the work needed to get this place clean.

The cold of the walk-in slaps you in the face. However, the sight inside warms your heart. May's slim, graceful frame bent over to heft a box. She sets it on a shelf, then turns to greet you.

"Eric! Thank you agaIn soooo much for COMING in." Her pale, slightly grey face beams with an ear-to-ear smile. To your pleasant surprise she wraps you in a quick hug, still smiling. The chill of her skin, much colder than the walk-in, sends your pulse through the roof.

Your yuki-onna boss pulls away. The sudden loss leaves you wanting more, but you're thankful in a way. Having her so close could have gotten…embarassing.

"I-it's okay," you stammer. "Entirely my pleasure."

She goes back to the boxes. Bending down, she again shows you her shapely ass, not at all ruined by the dull flat uniform slacks. You bite back a groan of appreciation at the sight. She cocks her head to speak over her shoulder, sending her icy-black hair shimmering.

"I think I can handle the meat and other cold-stuff," she says, not seeming to notice her double entendre. "If you wouldn't mind, could you take care of the other stuff?"

You nod dumbly. "H-how long do you need me here?"

"Well," she hesitates, "I guess I only NEED you until it'll the stuff's put away and the prep work is done. You should be finished in an hour or so. You know to date the goods. Label gun's on the hook."

You nod and step back out of the walk-in. Once back out in the kitchen, you lean against the cool metal door. After a moment, your heartrate and uncomfortable erection begins to calm down. You're just getting back to normal when Serena struts up.

Her breath is heavy with cannabis. "Come on, dork. May'll be on our asses if we don't get a move-on." You heave a sigh and nod.

The work goes…not exactly quickly, but as well as could be expected. It takes longer than May thought; with early customers and cleaning up the mess from last night, it takes more like two hours.

It doesn't help that Serena spent most of the time teasing Chrissie when May wasn't looking. You saw her at one point pull the smaller girl into a one-armed hug that looked suspiciously like a half nelson. You watch as Serena whispers something to Chrissie, who looks tired and irritated, but the dormouse eventually nods. You shrug; if the sharkgirl isn't being a bitch that much, there's no huge reason to step in.

Finally, everything is put away, cleaned, and prepped for lunch. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of you arm "Whew! I think that was enough for a Saturday."

You turn to May, and continue with "Unless you want me to stay through the lunch rush?"

May appears to think about it, then says "well, I guess since you've been such a Hard worker…."

"BUS!" comes the panicked shout from Chrissie. Your head whips around to see the poor bespectacled girl pointing out the window.

"TOUR BUS INCOMING!" she shouts again, as if clarification was needed.

>cont.

>>129574

>cont.

It isn't. You can clearly see through the windows the long form of a tour bus. It's hard to tell from here, but it looks like every seat is full.

You look back to May, who smiles nervously. "….would you mind staying?" she asks.

You watch as the first satyros in a long line of satyroi steps off the bus and weakly agree.

—

Asthe last satyros leaves the store, you sag against the front counter.

"That was awful," says Chrissie. You grunt in agreement.

May comes up behind you, tired but looking pleased. She steps close enough you can feel the cold radiating off her. "How's that for a rush?" She flashes you a bright grin. "Just help Chrissie with cleaning the lobby and you can go."

"Aye-aye, ma'am!" you say, giving her a sloppy salute. Serena laughs into her hand and you shoot her a dirty look. You feel the heat flush your face. Fortunately, it doesn't look like May has noticed your embarassment. She just pats your arm and walks back to the rear of the kitchen.

Chrissie dunks a rag in one of the cleaning buckets underneath the counter. "If you want, you can just do the bathrooms and I'll get everything else."

"Sure, sounds good to me," you say.

You roll the mop bucket into the men's room, thinking it to be the cleanest since there were no men in the giant band of satyroi. What you find isn't nearly what you expected.

To The Cutest Boy in SFC:

If you've got the need for adventure, call Amber. 123-4567

The message is written on the mirror in lipstick of all things. It's got to be the most ridiculous love note you've ever heard of. If it is a love note.

You shrug and go about cleaning the bathrooms. But still…what if it is real?

Chrissie has the lobby looking decent by the time you're done with the bathrooms. She stops you on your way to empty the bucket.

"Eric, could I ask you a favor?" she says, radiating nervousness.

"You hesitate, but finally say "uh, sure?"

She looks down at the ground and fiddles with her hands. "Would you, eheh, mind coming… Well, you see my cousin is coming over again to drink and watch movies and it would really mean a lot if you were there."

"Huh?" you ask, in probably the least intelligent way you could.

"No it's okay, don't worry about it!" She casts a glance off to the side. You follow her gaze and see Serena glaring at you two. Now what's going on there?

You lean close to Chrissie and whisper "I'll think about it." Her face relaxes in visible relief.

Bucket dumped, you clock out and hit the bricks. Right as you reach the bus stop, your phone buzzes.

It's a text. From May.

'Some friends and I are going out tonight. I may know a place that doesn't check IDs. Think about it.'

—

1) Go out with May and her friends. Maybe you'll have a shot with your hot/cold boss.

2) Go to Chrissies. Whatever Serena's up to, the dormouse wants no part of it. Play big brother and help her out.

3) Hey! You're feeling lucky. Call the bathroom number.

4) You still have homework, doofus.

>>129575

3

>>129575

5. Go home and play video games. It's been a long ass fucking week. You need to relax.

>>129575

2.

>>129575

3

what is the worst that could happen?

>>129575

2.) I don't like the vibe I'm getting from May, so I vote to go with Chrissie instead.

>>129575

>1) Go out with May and her friends. Maybe you'll have a shot with your hot/cold boss.

We've clearly got a thing for her.

And dammit, I want yuki-onna.

>>129575

2

Eric Anon to the rescue

2) Go to Chrissies. Whatever Serena's up to, the dormouse wants no part of it. Play big brother and help her out.

As much as I like the dynamic with the boss, I've seen this shit before. She'll just get blackout drunk and cry about some other boy she likes.

Plus Chrissie sorta asked first.

>>129575

2

>>129575

I wanna go with 1, but I feel like 2 is the right thing to do… grg….

Another idea I'll throw in there is to do 1 and text the dormouse if everything is okay between her and Serena and/or lie and say we are busy with family stuff as to not hurt her feelings. We could also do 2 and explain to May via text that we'd LOVE to go, but you feel like Serena is picking on Chrissie and that we need to be there for her or whatever.

>>129733

this

>>129575

DO IT ALL

>>129575

2.

>>129733

I've made up my mind. I want 1.

>>129575

2

>>129575

2. Dormouse a cute

>>129575

2, become destroyer of dormouse pussy

but when satyroi leave their number on the mirror? you best be getting that number for future use

>>129865

This as well.

We can always call the number later if we want.

Why do so many want to go with the doormouse?

It's not like they've got all that nice a body…

>>129575

i'll have #2 please

>>129575

Drinking with cute Dormouse and friend whilst watching movies?

Sign me up for 2 please.

>>129575

>1) Go out with May and her friends. Maybe you'll have a shot with your hot/cold boss.

Seriously this has her friends as well.

Even if you don't like yuki-onnas, this could still offer plenty of ara ara fun times.

>>129575

I got this shit all figured out

6) Go out with May and her friends, but text the bathroom number, for the following reasons:

a) If May really is just a 'friendly boss' you want to keep your options open

b) If May likes you, but rejects you for now for the reason of her being our boss, it won't be too bad as you still have the phone number, and hopefully not a too rapey cute monster girl on the other end, or someone dealing with someone who sells organs on the black market.

c) May and/or her friends will notice you texting someone maybe even comment on it. If May have feelings for you, she will become scared, as there may be another monstergirl involved, suddenly realize she has feelings for you, and react upon them.

>>130180

/devilish/

>>130180

This.

A thousand times this.

>>130251

>/devilish/

I like it

I think our overwhelming support for this CYOA has overpressured OP into withdrawing.

>>130470

Nope, still here. Just enjoying the debate.

Still time to vote for whoever hasn't yet.

>>130180

That'd work for me - main thing I want is going with yuki-onna so I'm willing to vote for whatever we go with.

I mean, it's pretty clear the guy's got a thing for her given the reaction to her, so surely we should try for that?

>>130263

>>

I like it

>>130627

I want you to know that I feel like you're bullying me, it's hurtful and that is just not okay.

>>130572

I think it's already been decided, OP. Let's go get that doormouse cutie.

>>130821

Roger that, vote lock initiated.

I'll return with the next entry soon.

>>130853

I agree

>>130853

Sexual bullying is the best kind of bullying.

>>130180

good idea.

>new entry

Once you get home, you throw your work uniform in the wash and grab a hotdog from the fridge. You don't even bother heating it up, biting into that motherfucker cold.

You cast a glance to you homework, then at the number May gave you. Looking back, you remember how nervous Chrissie seemed around Serena. A sudden vision of the dormouse's eyes cascading tears fills your mind. With some reluctance, you text Chrissie.

'Where and when and I'll be there.'

You plop in a game disc and sit down for some vidya while waiting. Chrissie doesn't leave you waiting long.

'Great! Uh, Serena's kinda driving me home right now. Just meet us there.'

She then gives you her address. A quick Google search tells you the nearest bus stop, and you head out after throwing on a fresh t-shirt.

The busride takes no time at all; less even than it takes to get to work. You find yourself staring that the front gate of a pretty ritzy place, though the massive orange truck with the chrome grill parked out front kinda throws it all off. You used to live in a house almost as nice as this one.

You scratch at your chest and shrug away those thoughts. Reaching out, you ring the doorbell. It chimes, the notes crystal clear and bright. Someone tromps to the door from deeper in the house.

"Taylor how many times I gotta…" Serena stops dead mid-sentence. She gapes at you for a second, giving you a perfect look at her terrifyingly sharp teeth. She recovers herself and SCOWLS.

"What the fuck are you doing here, limp-dick?" she snarls. You're immediately very aware of how soft your neck is, and how a year of karate likely isn't enough to help you when fighting someone like Serena.

A voice from somewhere inside the house saves you. "I invited him, Serena," comes Chrissie's tired voice. "Please just be nice?"

Serena takes a deep breath, holds it for a long moment, then lets it out. The gesture makes you uncomfortably aware of certain parts of her anatomy. Maybe it's just because you're seeing her in a wife-beater for the first time, but you just now notice she has gill slits. Three on each side in a neat column, right below her collarbone. They flare as she breathes.

"Come on in, nerd. Drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourself." She turns and stomps away, tail slapping you in the gut. It doesn't hurt, but neither does it feel particularly friendly.

Following Serena inside you catch you first look at the inside. The entryway's floor is covered in wood, bright enough and polished enough to prompt you to remove your shoes for fear of scuffing it. To your right is a delicate glass table, arrayed with a pair of decorative bowls. One bowl is filled with loose change, the other with a set of car keys.

>cont.

I think OP caught the dreaded Japanese cold.

>>131194

fuck RL. Why can't I get paid to write smut?

>cont.

You follow Serena to an open-plan living/dining room. Against a wall was a massive entertainment system. On the giant tv is some moronic comedy movie by that unfunny fat actor everyone loves. Chrissie is drowsily slumped on the couch, her blue eyes red and watery from lack of sleep.

Serena jumps into the recliner, claiming it for herself. She snags the family-sized box of Southern Fried Chicken and grabs a handful of chicken tenders. She glares at you as if daring you to say something.

You decline. Instead, you sit down on the couch next to Chrissie. Her only acknowledgement of you is a tiny grunt and a weak wave.

"Chrissie, you sure you don't want to go to bed?" you ask her, placing a hand on her slim shoulder. Her hair smells like brown sugar.

"She fine, Eric," grumbles Serena. "Let's just watch the damn movie."

You, with reservation, do as she says. Casting glances at Chrissie, you can see she's just barely holding on to consciousness, taking occasional sips from a black coffee.

Looking over, you can see Serena fiddling with her phone. She'll flip it open, text someone, wait about five minutes, then text again. Her face shows greater and greater aggravation.

Finally, she throws the phone to the floor. "Eric, let me borrow your phone," she snaps.

"Uh, no?" you say, hoping a simple rejection will be enough. The glare she gives you says it isn't.

"C'mon, ne-, uh, Eric," she says, leaning over the side of the recliner. "I just need to make one call."

You point at her phone, currently lying half-underneath an ottoman. "What about yours?"

"Phone company's dickin'me around. I'll only borrow it for a minute and I promise not to get frustrated and throw it against the wall or something. C'mon, be a bro."

You sigh and pull out your own phone. Serena snatches it from your hand and quickly begins punching numbers in.

Something moronic and loud happens on the screen, catching your attention. You watch as the fat actor pretends to be on drugs and embarass himself in public.

"Dammit!" The shout from Serena makes you look back over at her. She's glaring at your phone as if it has personally offended her. Grumbling under her breath, she hands your phone back. Then, with no warning, she shoots up out of the chair. Tail lashing like an angry catgirl, she stalks off.

"What the fuck was that all about?" you ask. Chrissie shrugs and takes another gulp from her coffee. The dormouse wriggles, slouching further down the couch. Her small but pert butt touches your hip.

"Hey Eric," comes Serena's voice, "come here, would ya?"

>cont.

>>132077

>cont.

With a look to Chrissie, revealing the girl is just a half-step from dreamland, you get up from the couch and head the way Serena went.

You find the sharkgirl in one of the bedrooms. She's examining the walls, which appear to be completely plastered in anime posters.

"Interesting taste this girl's got," she says, indicating a poster with four anime pretty-boys in speedoes.

"What so you need?" you say flatly.

She turns to you and grins. Then, slowly, she walks up to you. Each step makes her chest jiggle pleasantly, and you feel your pulse rising. She stops just in front of you, her breasts almost touching your chest. When she speaks, her breath tastes of beer.

"Look, I'll be honest. I wanted tonight to just be a girl's night, ya know? It's nothin personal, just want you to leave."

Your heart thuds in a ragged beat. You fear she'll turn those sharp teeth on you, but you find some courage somewhere. "No," you say, "Chrissie invited me."

"I know," the she says, "which is why I can…repay you. Cash or," her eyes rake up and down your body, " something else.

"S-s-something else?" you stammer like a fool.

Serena laughs. A high, girlish laugh. Almost cute. "With your attitude, I'm guessing you don't get a lot of action." She leans against you. Her breasts press into your chest. Her arms come up and circle your waist, forging a delicious ring of warmth.

"But I think you're kinda cute. And it's been a while for me, too. So how 'bout it?"

1) Refuse. You promised Chrissie, and now you're REALLY suspicious.

2) Agree. Serena has a point: it HAS been a while and the girl DOES have a nice rack.

3) Lie. Agree to sex, then after fugging, plant yourself on the couch. Win-win, and Serena can't murder you with a witness present, right?

>>132078

>3) Lie. Agree to sex, then after fugging, plant yourself on the couch. Win-win, and Serena can't murder you with a witness present, right?

Let's be pragmatic here.

>>132078

>3

>>132078

1 cuz Chrissie needs us

>>132086

Kek, as they say

>>132078

>>132077

Fug, I forgot to namefag for those entries. Oh well.

>>132094

>>132086

Shit, didn't mean to namefag man. Sry.

But I'd go with 1, causing trouble with someone from your workplace isn't a good idea. Not to mention that this girl could probably rip your dick off and shove it up your ass with her bare hands.

>>132086

What are you doing you glorious bastard? Go hack into CNN to broadcast your CYOA to the world so you can update your CYOA!

>>132078

1

Go hug chrissie on the couch if she hasnt fallen asleep already

>>132078

1.) Let's stand by the cute mouse lest she get molested by the sharkgirl.

I go with 3

>not wanting to take the most interesting route

1

>>132078

3) Lie. Agree to sex, then after fugging, plant yourself on the couch. Win-win, and Serena can't murder you with a witness present, right?

>>132078

3) Looks like fun

>>132078

Cute Sleepy Mouse > Angry Druggie Shark

I'll take a #1 with side order of mouse please.

1, we're too young to die

>>132078

Let's go with 1.

Dormmouse is cute as shit

>>132100

Been busy starting a revolution to overthrow Merkel, will update soon ;^)

>>132184

Well, get to that, and then hack CNN.

Any other votes, anons?

>>132529

Nope. So, better get to writing Doormouse cuddles.

>>132532

I guess I better get to it, then. Official vote lock, and next entry will be up asap.

>>132538

Fuck yes it's nap time

>>132078

>next entry

Somehow thinking through the heady haze your mind is in, you grab hold of yourself ayy and step away from the sultry sharkgirl. Serena looks at you, at first smug, then confused. Then you watch the rage and hate blossom on her face. She says nothing. You say nothing.

Silently, you make your way back to the couch. Your heart is beating a mile a minute. It feels like you're being punched in the chest repeatedly.

Chrissie has lain her slender body out on the couch, entirely lost to sleep. Even stretched out as she is, she doesn't take up the whole couch. You plop down near her feet and take two, three, four deep breaths. Your heart steadies and calms.

Serena storms past you to the front door. "I'm goin' out for a sec, " she snarls. "Be back. And don't even think about stealling my chair!" The last is punctuated by the door slamming. You hear her truck rev and then drive away.

Chrissie stirs. She props herself up on an arm. She looks at you blearily. Her brown hair stands up on one side, giving her adorable bedhead. Blinking, she finally takes off her glasses despite having spent the last while with them mashed against her face. The dormouse sits up, then curls up with her head in your lap.

Her snores resume. You reach out a hand, then pull it back. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you place your hand on her head. She moans and shifts, and snuggles up closer.

You sit like that, absently stroking Chrissie's hair, for so long you lose track of time. The movie ends, but you just let the menu animation loop over and over again. Staying like that, you slowly fall asleep.

It's all ruined by the roar of Serena's truck returning.

>cont.

>>134314

>cont.

The door slams again and Serena stomps back into the house. Chrissie moans and shifts in her sleep, but doesn't wake up. The sharkgirl clomps into the living room and GLARES at you.

"Well don't you two look precious?" she asks nobody in particular, her voice dripping with scorn. You say nothing.

Serena harumphs and then says "Last chance, lover-boy. Fifty bucks. It's yours if you get up and find something to do on the other side of town."

On impulse, you quip "Show me the cash."

Serena visibly is stunned but quickly recovers. "I'll owe you. Next Friday. You know I'm good for it."

You look down at Chrissie's sleeping form. Her ear flicks in her sleep, tickling your hand. You look back up at Serena and shake your head.

Serena stalks over to you. She leans down, getting in your face. The closeness is almost intimate, but the rage on her face promises only pain. "Leave. Before…"

Whatever she had to say was cut off by the door banging open. In toddles what appears to be a comically large stock pot, the kind used to cook for armies, suspended on two athletic but feminine legs. Serena swears under her breath.

"Um, a little help?" comes a voice from the pot. "Serena?"

Just when you think you're looking at some nrw kind of monster-girl, the figure turns sideways to navigate the door. It's a hinezumi, her brown hair done up in a ponytail. She sees you on the couch and stops.

"Oh!" she says, "Hi! I'm Chrissie's cousin, Taylor." She looks over to Serena. "Does he know?"

"No. And he won't leave."

1) Demand to know what's happening. This fishy behavior has gone on long enough.

2) Order them to leave. It doesn't matter why they're here, they're clearly up to something, and you get the feeling you're the only one who was actually invited.

3) Tell them to shut up and watch the movie. Chrissie clearly needs her sleep, and these bitches are ruining it.

4) Do nothing. Like a pussy.

>>134514

Obviously 1, we need to get to the bottom of this

>>134514

>1 and 3

>Tell me what's happening, or shut up and watch the movie.

>>134514

1 & 3

Tell me what the fuck you're doing or shut the fuck up

>>134514

1 because we need to get to the bottom of this but 3 because Dormouse need sleep

>>134539

Is that a bust of Ammit, or is it another egyptian goddess?

>>134566

Looks like Sobek.

So no, it's not the great and powerful Ammit-chan.

>>134514

Gotta go with 1 here

Would pick 1 but would they really tell us? We aren't stronger than a shark and hinezumi have fire magic.

But for interest's sake I'm saying pick 3 and make shark puns when sticking it to Serena.

"I think you've been telling me a great white lie. Quit being such a hammerhead and tell me what's going on!"

>>134728

I meant to say pick 1

>>134514

1 & 3. the creation of a new, hybrid choice to surpass Metal Gear.

>>134534

this one

>>134514

Let's try 1

>>135546

Aww yiss

>>134514

>next entry

You look from Serena to Taylor and back again."Okay, what the fuck is going on?" you ask. You don't even try to hide the irritation in your voice.

"SHUT UP! JUST GO HOME, YOU FUCKING LIMP-DICKED FAGGOT!" Serena screams, her face turning scarlet with fury. The effect send your heart beating so fast for a moment you're terrified it'll give out. But somehow you keep your expression neutral. Serena glowers at you, her fists clenched and gill-slits flaring. Her tail snaps back and forth, like an angry cat or–perhaps more aptly–a shark readying to attack.

But it's Taylor who speaks. "So, like, who is this guy, Ser?"

"Just some nerd," Serena spits at the same time you say "Chrissie's friend."

"Friend?" asks Taylor. She blinks confusedly. She turns to Serena. "Is he the one who"

"Shut up, Taylor!" Serena screeches, whirling at the hinezumi. In your lap, Chrissie stirs, almost shivering. You're amazed she hasn't woken up yet.

You clear your throat loudly, and once you have their attention, you ask over the beating of your own heart "Would someone please just tell me WHAT is going on?"

"Well," says Taylor," first we take some vodka" before Serena clamps a hand over the other girl's mouth.

The details begin to come together. The stwepot big enough for Chrissie to bathe in should have been a tipoff, honestly.

"You're making Baphomet brandy," you say, almost whispering.

Serena looks at you, and actually laughs. "No one calls it that outside of the nightly news. It's called a Wonderland Cocktail, nerd."

"Whatever it is, it's damn illegal! If the feds find out, they'll arrest you, me, and everyone in a 30-foot radius!"

Taylor flips a lock of brown hair over her shoulder and rolls her eyes. "For real, the stuff's only illegal because some frigid human bitches don't like competition for their cooches."

"I'm not going to jail because you want to stick it to the man! The Woman! Whatever!" you bellow, losing some momentum there for a bit. Taking a deep breath, you calm down and try a new track. "I'm guessing neither of you got Chrissie's permission for this. Otherwise, you wouldn't need to hound her to exhaustion and then stick her in the pot while she's sleeping."

Serena maintains a mask of condescending annoyance, but Taylor's shame-faced expression says it all.

We stare each other down for a long time. Taylor breaks first and tugs at Serena's arm. "Let's go, Ser. Maybe he's right."

Serena lets out a growling, groaning sigh, throws her hands up as if surrendering, and spins around to stomp out the door. Taylor picks up the pot and follows her. "So is he the guy that," she says, whatever else she said cut off by the door shutting.

You lean back and close your eyes. You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

"Thank you," Chrissie whispers from your lap.

>>136819

almost forgot

>cont.

>>136819

whats wonderland cocktail supposed to do, why is it banned?

>>136819

dormouse confirmed a cute

my heart

I hope Chrissie holds his hand while gazing into his eyes and tells him wtf is going on

>>136819

Is it time for taking it slowly and steamy cute cuddles?

Hey /monster/, OP on a different computer.

Sad to say, the computer I was typing this up on died on me, and I'm not sure when it'll be fixed. Have to complete the current entry over on another unit.

>>137861

That really sucks to hear OP. Hopefully you can get it fixed soon, we all love this story

>>137861

Sorry to hear that. Take your time, I'm sure we'll all flock to the thread once you finish the next bit.

>>137861

Hope everything is going alright for your wageslave

>>139374

>>137973

>>137865

I live! Getting to next entry right now.

Hope you're okay OP.

>>136819

fuck phones, fuck cars, fuck work fuck family fuck life

>cont.

You jump in surprise at Chrissie's voice. Looking down, you can see the dormouse's big brown eyes looking back up at you.

"How much did you hear?" you ask.

"A lot," she says. "Pretty much everything since Serena got back."

"I see," you say. "I'm sorry."

Chrissie shakes her head as she sits up. She still smells like brown sugar. "It's nothing you did. Just…" she stops to laugh bitterly. "Not every day your cousin and coworker plot to stuff you in a vat of vodka, is it?"

Not sure what to say, you shake your head dumbly. Chrissie continues, "I guess I owe you a real dinner, huh?"

"That's not" you begin to say. Then you take a look at the boxes of cold chicken and congealed sauces. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

"Great!" says Chrissie, hopping off the couch. "How do you feel about spaghetti?"

"Love it," you say, unable to suppress a smile. She smiles back and hops off the couch. You find yourself noticing for the first time just how pert her butt is.

"Good!" she says. "Because that's about all I can cook." Still smiling, she disappears into the kitchen.

"Do you any help?" you ask, getting up to turn off the dvd.

"No," says Chrissie, followed by a grunt. She speaks again, her words punctuated by small huffs of effort. "You're, hngg, the, hup, guest, hoop! Dammit!"

Chrissie is quiet for a long time. "…You have to promise not to laugh."

You turn the corner into the kitchen. Chrissie is pointing at an open cabinet overhead. "I need the plates from the top," she says, red faced.

You clamp down on a giggle at her expense and reach up to pull down the plates that were too high for the shorter dormouse. She takes them from you with a beaming smile.

As you watch, she sets the water to boil, pulls down a jar of alfredo sauce, and a bag of shrimp from the freezer. Chrissie melts butter in a pan and then sautes the shrimp in just minutes.

"You're pretty good at that," you say as she pours uncooked pasta into the boiling water.

"Thanks." She gives a small yawn. "Sorry!" she says hastily, looking embarassed.

"It's okay," you say. "Thank you for doing this."

>>149147

>fuck phones, fuck cars, fuck work fuck family fuck life

Shit man are you alright?

>>149147

the worst part is after fucking those things is they don't cuddle afterwards, leave before you wake up, and never call back

>>149152

It's been a long month, anon. Phone broke, which killed my first draft of this. Then my new phone's notepad kept crashing, killing the rewrites. Then my waifu crashed the car, which the insurance company declared totalled. On top of this work has been a bitch lately. The stress gave me the worst fucking headache. Even a hydro didn't kill it.

>>149155

It wouldn't be so bad if they'd leave a note or something.

Sage ffor blogposting

>>149188

Just good for you to be back man, keep up the good shit.

>>149147

>cont.

"It's no trouble. Really." She stirs the pasta absently. "Eric, does….?"

"Yes?"

She looks at you, worry writ large on her face. "Does a wonderland cocktail really…. turn humans into monster girls?"

"That's what say on the news," you say, moving closer to her. "At least with human girls. I think it's supposed to brainwash guys."

"Shit," Chrissie whispers under her breath. "Why would you want something like that."

Hesitantly, you put a hand on her shoulder "Don't know," you say, "petty revenge? Maybe people think the girl will be in heat right as she monsterizes. And maybe some human women just want to be monster girls."

She lays a hand over yours. Her eyes, looking up at you, shimmer. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, to get you mixed up in this."

"No problem," you say, forcing a smile. "Feel free to call me anytime. I'll be your knight in shining armor."

With a giggle, Chrissie lightly slaps your chest. "Maou-sama no! You're too nice to be a Paladindu!"

"Oh really?" you ask. "And how would you know that? Maybe I'm a nasty, holy-book-toting asshole who sneaks out and does terrible things to poor monster girls." You send a few quick finger pokes to her shoulders, making her giggle.

"Okay okay, enough of that!" She slaps your hands away, still grinning from ear to ear. With her own deft hands, she fills a plate with the fresh-cooked pasta and shrimp. "Your dinner is ready, sir knight."

You take it and give her a mock bow. "A thousand thanks, m'lady." Chrissie rolls her eyes.

Together, the pair of you return to the living room. Chrissie drags you over to the couch and fairly forces you to sit and eat while she changes the movie.

The dormouse stares at the impressive shelf of blu-ray discs, muttering to herself while trying to decide. As she gets lower on the shelf, she bends over, shoving her small but fine derrier out. How could you ever have thought she looked like a kid? She's petite, but definitely no kid.

She spins around. You snap your eyes away from her butt, and try your best to look like you weren't staring. You shove a bite of pasta in your mouth. It's better than you could have hoped. But you swear you can see a smile tickling the corners of her mouth.

>cont.

thanks /monster/, you are nothing but true bros

>>152102

>I'll be your Knight in shining armor, m'lady

Make sure we tip our Fedora in thanks for her spaghetti.

>>152102

>white knight m'lady

Other than that it's goin' good.

>>152161

Sage fam

>>152165

Shit, thanks for reminding me

>>152102

>cont.

You try to act casual as she plops down on the couch beside you. She leans into you and rests her head on your shoulder. It's not long before you hear gentle snores.

Slowly, you set down the plate. Chrissie grumbles and repositions.

"Hey hey hey, come on now," you say, shaking her shoulder. She opens a bleary eye and blinks in confusion. "If you're tired, maybe you should go to bed. I'll lock the door behind me."

"Just stay for the movie," she murmers, "you're comfy."

Sighing, you stretch out and Chrissie wastes no time in curling up on top of you. You settle in to finish the movie.

—

You snap awake like a light being switched on. For the second time tonight, you've slept through a movie. On the tv is a blu-ray menu screen. Above you….

Chrissie's body is a warm, comforting weight. She smells of brown sugar, the scent strangly sharp, but pleasant as the smell of baking cookies. Her peaceful face is only inches from yours, a light smile on her lips.

Her lips! Plush, flushed, and oh so close! Your pulse shoots through the roof. Your mouth is suddenly very dry. She whimpers–or was that a giggle?–at something in her sleep. Her body shifts above you, causing a delicious friction where your hips meet.

A sensation, familiar to men everywhere, begins in your crotch. Her warmth, her smell, the sight of her, the pressure of her body against yours, all of this causes a sudden desperate stiffening of your manhood.

What do?

1) Kiss her! Kiss her madly and passionately! This might be your only chance!

2) Try to extricate yourself stealthily. This is a bad spot, but no need to wake the poor girl.

3) Like hell. Wake her up, and concockt a lie to distract her until your *ahem* situation calms down.

4) Wake her up, but try to act like popping a boner for a sleeping coworker is no big deal. However, you explain, she's quite attractive and you're only human.

5) Suffer in silence. It's what a true gentleman would do, right?

>>153320

Going for 1 and 4

>>153320

4

>>153321

This. Wait, no, these? Or, wha- fuck it.

>>153320

>>153321

This

>>153320

I'm pretty sure you're supposed to fuck dormice while they're sleeping, but we should still ask because we still have to work with her and it would be really awkward skirting around "remember that one time I fucked you in your sleep"

I vote 4

Fucking let me post

>>153320

Wake her up and DO YOUR MATH HOMEWORK

Okay anons, votes are officially locked. Let's get on trying to downplay our massive erection.

>>153320

You lay there, awkwardly, with the world's most uncomfortable stiffy. Above you and oblivious to your plight, Chrissie grinds her body up and down in slow, lazy strokes. She's pressing her crotch to yours, a few layers of fabric the only thing preventing you two from….you wrench your mind from those thoughts, your pulse becoming an erratic gallop.

'Shit shit shit,' you think in a kind of mantra, 'she's too cute, this is bad, she's too cute.'

You shift up just a tiny fraction, enough to get the base of your neck off the couch. Chrissie protests with a moan and clutches you tighter. Her fingers grip deeper into your shirt. Out of your sight, her legs clentch around your thighs.

It occurs to you, quickly, that there's no way you're getting out of this without waking her. You ease back down and gently shake her shoulder. The dormouse just gives a pouty sigh and shifts again. You shake her again, this time with more force, to which the girl fails to respond. Finally, you resort to shaking her hard and calling out her name.

At last Chrissie awakes, jerking up and blinking owlishly at you. "Huh? Whaswrong?" she slurs.

"Hey," you say with all the smoothness and calm you can muster. "Sorry to wake you, but, uh, it's a bit uncomfortable."

"Whassat?" she asks around a yawn.

"Well uh, you may not have noticed how your legs are around mine. And, well, you're a girl, and I'm only human."

She rubs at one eye. "What?" Her coherence is improving at least.

You decide to forego innuendo and just rip off the band-aid. "You're getting me really, really turned on, and I don't want to lose control."

Chrissie blinks once, twice, and then hangs her head. Her face is a brilliant shade of scarlet. "S-sorry."

"No no!" you say. You hope she does feel too bad; you know for a fact you panic around crying girls. "These things happen."

She nods in silence and climbs off you. You notice again her butt as she, accidently, puts it almost in your face.

"Sorry to make you uncomfortable," she says, still looking down. "Did you want to go?"

You sit up. "Do you want me to go?"

"No! I mean, no, you don't have to. It's okay as long as I'm not…on you, right?"

"I don't know," you say with a smile, "you're pretty cute."

"Really?"

Yes or No, /monster/?

>>155229

HA, NOPE!

pull confetti from your pockets and throw it in the air while singing embed related.

I'm sorry, never expect anything serious from me this time of morning

>>155229

Fuck yeah she's cute

>>155229

yes.

YES.

YES!

>>155229

The Dick.

>>155229

>>155229

YES DO IT

>>155229

Yes.

Also hopefully update soon

>>156649

Taking a bit longer because I want the whole scene finished before I post. Sorry for the wait, guys.

>>155229

Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, you nod. "Yeah. You're pretty cute. I mean, *really* cute." You take a deep breath to still the incessant beating of your heart.

The effect on Chrissie is beautiful to see. She turns to you. Her face is a roadmap of insecurity. She looks like she's waiting for some horrible punchline, like you'd said it just to be mean. Then her mouth opens in shock and her eyes go wide. And then a giant smile spreads across her face, beaming like the sun and stretching from ear to ear.

Before you can react, she's in your arms, pressing as much of her body against yours as the awkward angle will allow. She kisses you; the feeling is soft but electric. A tingling bolt fires up your spine. Your pulse, already through the roof, skyrockets, making your head swim. Without thinking about it, you wrap your arms around her, squeezing her as hard as you dare. She squeals happily and returns the favor, constricting the breath out of you.

Finally, the two of you break the kiss. She looks at you, pure joy writ large on her face. You can keep the dopey grin grin your own face.

"Well, that was unexpected," you say, still smiling.

"Did you not want me to…" she begins before you cut in with "No no, it was good. Great. It was great." The panic melts out of her and she's all smiles again.

You continue. "It's just not everyday I have cute girls actually throw themselves at me." She giggles.

>cont.

>>157911

"Yeah, I guys I did get kinda carried away," she says, blushing furiously but still grinning like a fool.

You nod. "A bit. But I liked it." You snatch forward and place a peck on her lips. "I liked it a lot."

Chrissie places a hand on your chest and gently pushes you back and down. The couch arm winds up pressing into your back but you don't complain. She again places her legs on either side of your hips. The heat coming from between her legs is obvious, and the soft weight of her sinking into your lap feels wonderful on your erection.

She leans forward again to kiss you, flooding your nostrils with that brown sugar smell. It occurs to you this can't be her shampoo or body wash. It must be HER scent. It's intoxicating, and you barely even notice as your hands find her waist.

The kiss lingers, then deepens. You can't remember whose idea it was, but somehow you started French kissing. You tongue slides against hers. She tastes divine. Your kiss breaks, and she sits back up straight. Your hands caress the smooth skin of her stomach, revelling in the feel of the smooth but firm muscles beneath. With a smile on her face that would put a succubus to shame, she takes your hand in hers and draws it up, slowly up, under her shirt, up her belly, up to her ribs, over the underwire of her bra and to rest on her breast. Your erection spasms in animal excitement.

"D-do you like it?" she asks. You nod dumbly, squeezing and massaging her breast. The flesh yields under your fingers but remains firm. You slide your other hand up, raising her shirt as you do. She coyly raises her arms up and lets you slip the shirt off.

>>157912

Her breasts are small, but perfectly formed. She has a small birthmark right where her breast begins to swell. You watch it rise and fall in time with her breathing as she reaches behind her back. In one smooth motion, she strips off her bra, leaving her chest bare to your eyes.

She's beautiful, with soft pink nipples in the middle of each firm peak. You can't help yourself; you lean forward and take one nipple in your mouth. Wrapping your arms around her as if she might disappear, you flick your tongue over the hardened flesh. Chrissie gasps and coos above you.

Pulling away and gulping down air, you look up at her. She looks down at you. "Oh please Eric don't stop," she begs. You return to her nipple; she grabs your head and presses you against her chest. On its own, your hand finds her other breast, caressing and pinching the nipple.

She fumbles with your pants, trapped between the need to get them off you and her desperate desire to keep your mouth on her breast. Finally she undoes the button and pulls down your fly. Your cock springs free of your pants, and Chrissie eagerly grasps it.

Her hand is so soft and smooth. She begins to jerk you off with fast, short motions. The pleasure makes you groan in your throat, sending vibrations through your mouth to her tit.

"Oh god Eric, please do me," she pants. "Please put your fingers inside."

>cont.

>>157913

You take your hand off her tit and grab for her pants. You hear elastic snap as you yank the edge down as far as it can go before it stops on her lap. "I can move if…" but whatever she was going to say is ignored as you slide your hand into her pants and underwear in one motion. You feel sparse downy public hair and then the folds of her pussy. Stopping, and taking all your will to do so, you tease the outer lips, wetting your fingers on her juices.

And then you slide in a finger. All the way to the knuckle. Her hand on your cock stops dead and her face contorts in shock and her eyes go wide. "oh god yes," she whispers in a small voice. You slide your finger out and she lets out the saddest of moans, before squealing as you ram it back in.

She somehow focuses one you. "M-may I h-have ano-ah-ther fINGer?" she asks around her her gasps.

Feeling wicked, you reply "Only if you keep jerking me off," thrusting into her hand for emphasis.

She nods and starts jacking you furiously. Somehow thinking through the haze of sensation, you slip another finger into her cunt. She squeals again and digs her fingers into your shoulder. She's holding on like she'd fall over without you, and she might.

Your hand is soaked from the fluids from her pussy. The heat and tightness is incredible, and this is just your hand! Imagining what it must feel like to have your cock inside her makes your cock begin to spasm as the pressure builds.

"Don't stop, Chrissie," you beg, "I'm close."

"Me too," she gasps, "Oh, me too! Oh, oh, OH~!"

With the strength of a hellhound, the little dormouse pulls you into an electric kiss. Her body twitches and spasms as her limbs lock up around you. Your orgasm follows just behind, washing over you like a wave. You groan into the kiss and shudder as bolts of cum fire out of your cock.

>cont. when you guys change underwear

We need the dicking

>>160363

SHE needs the dicking