windfall | unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

( continued from here! )

[ Denji stares up Aki's way, visibly annoyed, as she brooks another crest of colorless smoke invading her senses, slender tendrils ghosting over their heads, nearly transparent in the lamplight. This nicotine-addicted slag. Always with the insults… It means kissing! She kissed them! What other meaning could make out have? Still, she roughly erases what characters she was writing (she'd forgotten midway what the stroke pattern to one kanji was), decorating her report in rubber shavings. ]

I mean, you saw Emi-chan's stuff. A bunch of her dresses and skirts looked kinda itchy, but she had some grown-up outfits in the very, very back!

[ Instead of writing what she took, her pencil draws a series of doodles across the page: some peanut snacks, a bottle of tea looted from the mini fridge, a vial that she kindly labels as pirfume, and then the garment bag. ]

So I took one, since I don't got a whole lotta those. [ Most of her closet is filled with clothes from the secondhand store… and some secondhand straight from Aki's own wardrobe. For example, the tanktop she's wearing under her blouse right now. ] It's gonna make my rack look suuuper sexy on me, and then guys will be linin' up outside our apartment to take me on dates to the zoo and all that!

[ No, Denji doesn't know what the proper attire is for a zoo date. ]

…'course I'm not gonna go, seeing as I'm already taken. But you get the idea. What'd you get?

[ If she's remembering correctly, Aki's hands didn't look as full as her own walking out of the dressing room. Did she not take anything and now she's regretting it? ]

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[Message successfully transmitted, and as Denji sits down Aki looks a little less severe, like she's privately glad this, specifically, didn't turn into a fight. She leans over to turn off the lamp by her bedside when Denji grabs at her to join her and, almost by habit, Aki swats at her hands. But to be called frosty, to insist she didn't do anything bad... As always she wants to equally slap Denji upside the head and pet it. Stroke her fingers through her hair. Curl it behind her ears. Try and tame it into something nicer.]

[Ugh, it's so annoying.]

Don't push your luck.

[The light flicks off and Aki sits on the edge of the bed, sliding her bare legs over and through the sheets before leaning down and reaching for Denji to pull her in. She doesn't do cuddling, she would tell someone. After sex, she just likes to have the air to breathe. This is for Denji's sake, since it was her first time and all. Her first time touching someone for real. Her hands slide down her arms and over her sides until she can wrap them around her back, laying sideways on the bed as she pulls at Denji to slide into bed beside her.]

See - I'm not that cold.

Why not? Worked the first time…

[ Apart from her grumbles, Denji is all too eager to mold herself to Aki's arms, forcing herself in, no matter how imperfect the fit. She didn't think she'd be this kind of person afterward; it's always Power who clusters into her personal space, overtaking most of her bed, kicking her into one corner or dragging her in as his personal throw pillow. If not outright laying on her, treating Denji like an extension of their unwillingly shared bed. She deals with it, but her best sleep happens when she's alone and curled up in front of the TV, can feel the breeze creeping in from the open balcony while imagining a small, yippy dog nestled to her front. Coffee brewing in the background.

Aki feels nice, though. Too tall and human for her to truly cradle, like she would Pochita, but hers is also not as immense a presence as what she's used to with their other housemate. Her face disappears beneath Aki's chin, arms tucked in between their chests. Falling asleep like this would be no problem.

She just doesn't want to. ]

You could be warmer, [ she says back to her, extending a hand to Aki's cheek. Thumb stroking up and down. ] I could help.

[Denji moves in close and Aki can feel her hair standing on end, the proximity is so unusual. Himeno was like this, she thinks, then wants to punch herself for thinking of him right now. But it wasn't just after sex - Just randomly, snagging her around the back, rubbing his fuzzy chin against her in the mornings before he shaved... Ugh, the clinginess. Why does she attract physically clingy people?]

Uh huh. [She responds like she doesn't care. Like her face isn't already warm, that fact betrayed when Denji brushes her thumb over her cheek.] If you had clothes on, probably. [Fat words for someone who only put on panties out of some show of decency, like they especially mattered after what they just did. She's supposed to be the adult here, the mature one. Why the hell is she so embarrassed about this whole situation? It's just Denji, for crying out loud. The idiot who doesn't even know an idol's wink is just for marketing. She reaches over Denji's back and pulls the sheets up closer, tugging them over her back and settling down into her pillow.] Don't suffocate me, at least. I'm letting you do this, so don't let me regret it.

Erm, people can suffocate from doing dirty stuff…?!

[ This is what happens when you let a girl into your bed who's never been to school and has only ever role-played failing a pop quiz.

She jolts, drawing back from Aki in quick succession just as soon as the sheets are pulled snug over them. Shifts enough for the space between them to deflate into a valley — just for a few good seconds of staring at her, and then she gets it. Her shoulders relax back down into the pillow. ]

Oh, wait, you mean…

[ That feeling she gets when Power is all up in her business, using her stomach as a pillow or trying to squirm his way under her to leech more of her body heat. Barely recognizing that she wants sleep, too. That's always annoying to deal with. ]

What should I do then? [ Though she doesn't close the distance the same way as she had before, her palm begins to skim Aki's side, rubbing up and down in a continuous motion. Not doing more than that, whether out of consideration to Aki or pure shyness. ] To not suffocate you.

[She's still worked up, huh...? Denji's hand slides down her side and she can tell by the way she's begging for instruction, the way she wants Aki to tell her in simple terms how best to proceed, that she wants to proceed. Her cunt still feels raw from all the attention she just got to it, but Denji always bounces back from anything way too fast. It's so annoying, how her body never allows for a moment of rest.]

...Come here.

[With that, she rolls onto her back, flat on the bed and nodding her head to motion Denji over her. Instead of curling up side by side, this position will give her a better handle on her. Will allow her to flip her over or stop her if she gets too rambunctious. Man, she's always planning for the worst with her, isn't she?]

Up here. Put your knees on either side. [And with that, she motions her down to her lips. Not suffocating begins with not choking, after all.]

[ She didn't expect that to work. At least, not this well or this easy. Kinda makes her wonder if there's a catch to all this, but as Aki flips on her back, beckons her over, all the blood rises to her cheeks. Denji's lecherous stare opens way to curiosity, the kind that can only be quenched by whatever Aki's got in mind.

The stamp of her palms pressing into the mattress as she crawls forward and her own hurried breathing are the only sounds that pound in her ears. A million or so questions rush through her head, calling at her to think this through, that maybe there's some merit to waffling and being indecisive — but no, it's too late. Aki's provided a clear path forward from here, and Denji's already boarding this train, hovering over Aki's face with a swollen, piss-scented labia still leaky from the last time she came. Growing leakier by the second the longer she holds herself over Aki, can taste every velvety exhale on her folds. ]

Like this?

[ Denji's swaying; she's having a hard time keeping herself level and steady-minded with someone's nose barely tickling against. Aki, gazing up at her. With nothing else to hold, she hunches over and tangles her fists into her dark hair, pushing the strands out of her equally dark eyes.

Damn, she's already said it once before tonight, but Aki really is… ]

…Pretty.

[Denji had asked about warming her up, and Aki had intended to pull her over her chest, wrap her arms around her and fall asleep with the comforting weight of someone else on her. Like a weighted blanket or something. The satisfying feeling of being near another - though she'd never admit wanting that.]

[Instead, she's climbing over her until her knees are right next to her shoulder, her sopping wet cunt right above her mouth. Aki starts to tell her off, that she isn't exactly dying to taste her after she basically just pissed on the floor not long ago, but when she hears Denji mutter that single word, her mouth closes into a flat line.]

[Is this flattery? Wasn't she just freaking out over Aki daring to complement her? Ugh, whatever. Aki raises her arms to wrap around Denji's thighs, pulling her in close.]

After this, you're going to sleep. [If that's a threat or an order, she doesn't know. If Denji is going to pass out on top of her or dutifully crash down right next to her... Whatever. She pulls Denji down by the hips and opens her mouth, taking in the first taste of her, pressing her tongue in and getting every flavor at once - heat, dampness, arousal. She's so obvious, it's embarrassing.]

Edited 2024-10-02 03:23 (UTC)

[ It hasn't been all that long since they were outside, making a mess out of their apartment and one another. They'll have to deal with it in the morning, which means the faster they fall asleep, the closer they are to having to take accountability for their actions; Denji doesn't hate being near Aki in a more innocuous sense, but she doesn't want that — that other thing. It's much less complicated to press her crotch into Aki's wine red lips and be engulfed.

In any other situation, Aki's gruffness might put her off, but she can't find it in herself to gripe about her attitude. Not as her tongue's nearly jumping to swim inside her, a bear with its paw inside a hive, trying to scrape out every last bit of honey. The sweetness that latches on to her is different this time: more languid, tired. There's less urgency now that she's had her initial release, but that only means she can really savor watching Aki crook her tongue. Her eyes hood, panting in light and barely audible puffs. The hand she has matted into Aki's roots, tugs at her scalp to garner her attention. ]

But I — don't wanna sleep. You like doing this sorta thing too, don't you? [ She laughs a little, canines biting into her lip. Aki has no way of answering for herself, so she'll be nice and do it for her. ] Yeah, you do. So let's just keep going 'til morning.

[With her hands in her hair and her body firmly on top of her, Aki doesn't have the luxury to respond and tell Denji off. No, they can't go all night, and - It's not about whether she enjoys this sort of thing or not, it's about having responsibilities tomorrow. She answers for her and briefly Aki lowers her brow, like she wants to lean back and respond, but instead she digs her fingernails into the back of her ass, squeezing and pinching the skin. A vague sort of warning, but it's also a way to keep her pride intact. She isn't about to let Denji think she's leading this in any way.]

[Because otherwise she might entertain the idea, might enjoy this too much. The little noises coming out of her and the way her voice is breathy and syrupy. Aki leans in to trawl her tongue through her lips and while she should maybe be annoyed that she tastes a bit like piss and a lot like sweat, it's not something she finds herself caring about in this moment. She fucks her tongue into her and scoops up, like lapping the side of an ice cream cone, then sucks just once. The friction makes her lips purse around her but she doesn't slow after it, just keeps lapping at her, hands slowly cupping and stroking her ass.]

[Somehow, this has always been easier than a blowjob. Less to gag on, less to be careful around. Aki squeezes her cheeks apart and fondles her cheeks, glancing up to see her expression. See if she's still feeling like being a little shit about this.]

[ Eyes fluttering closed just as Aki's expression flickers, she misses the glimpse of agitation in her gaze, but gets the idea, anyway. In how she feels her up, the way her body rides and ripples along with her kneading, long tongue cleaving her plump folds into two. Indelicate as she is, it does the trick — where once were dried fluids sticking to her inner corners, now is replaced by a fresh gush; Denji wishes she could put up more of a fight, but it's useless, utterly moot, in her current state.

Her breath catches, then cuts its way past her notched teeth in an heady moan, deep and indistinct. What started as an ambiguous sweetness polluting her insides, swirling with no destination, no exit in sight, eventually gathers itself into a more defined, more restless shape. One with fangs and claws and a unstoppable need to sustain her pleasure. How could she roll on her back and go to sleep when Aki's mouth is better than any wet dream her subconscious could entertain her with? ]

Hah, you're really into this — mmgh, there, that's — there!

[ That last suck interrupts her haughtiness, has her nearly folded over Aki's head at this point. Sweaty hands cling against the bed frame, shaking the headboard, using it as support to swivel her hips and force herself down on her — tongue, teeth, nose, lips, and all. Every last bit of Aki she can fit inside of her, she wants it, can't live without consuming her down to the bone. This may not be a blowjob, but it'd be nice if Aki could choke on her just like one. ]

[Even when she should be feeling overwhelmed and too distracted to make any smarmy comments, she's still dictating what Aki must be feeling, how much she must be loving this. And so what if she is? It doesn't mean Denji gets to be full of herself for it - Just because the way she thrusts toward her lips, the way her nerves and muscles flinch and her hands grasp at the bedboard...]

[Man, she wishes she had the forethought to keep her arms back. Maybe grab her tie and rope them by the wrist behind her. Let Denji struggle on her knees for balance, send her off kilter. Aki plunges her tongue in deep, tracing the inner walls of her body and holding her waist tight to keep her from knocking her too hard in the face. She's not choking, if only because her nose isn't fully shoved into her cunt, but it's still close enough that her musk is all she can smell. The heat and wetness spilling off her. How can one girl be this horny? Aki can barely come twice in a day and she's going to right after squirting like that? She pulls back, pulling Denji back by the hips as she clicks her tongue in dissatisfaction.]

You're getting off on this too easily. [Like this is a crime, somehow. That Denji should be trying to stretch this out, even though Aki was the one who wanted to go to bed.] At least give me something to look at other than your chin. [Like her moaning and shaking her hips isn't a show in and of itself. Aki releases one hand off her hips and reaches up to wrap it around her breast. It's so small that her hand fits around it easily, squeezing tight as she wipes her lips on Denji's thigh.] I'm not a sex toy for you to grind on, idiot.

My chin?

[ She sputters, offended, at both the painfully abrupt stop and the realization that Aki may not be getting off on this the same way she is. But upon recalling what she told her mere moments ago, the prickly sentiment falls through, blunting the sharpness of her glare until it's entirely dissolved. Her brow guiltily presses together, grasp on the headboard weakening. That's right, Aki was kind enough to warn her before: Don't suffocate me, at least. ]

I thought… [ One eye ticks closed, shivering from how the woman beneath her uses her thigh as a rag, slips a hand over her breast. Commandeers the situation away from her, all as if it were second nature. Though maybe control was never in Denji's hands to start with. ] I thought that was how sex was supposed to be. You do dirty stuff with each other and — it's fun. Are you not having fun?

[ For someone who gets told all the time how excitable and puppy-like she is, her figure shares more similarities to a stretching cat as she drags herself backward, not so much to pull from Aki's remaining arm, but to sidle a hand down her thigh for purchase. With her free hand, she spreads her hole so that it's gaping wide in front of Aki, showing off all the froth and slobber running from the opening. She watches her unblinkingly, searching for a hint of recourse, a sign that she's on the right track. ]

[The truth is that she doesn't want to be as excited about this as she is. That Denji climbed over top of her and pressed her cunt into her face, wordlessly expecting her to do what she'd done just before. Seeing how eager Denji is, how wet she gets with just a little attention, her eager narration of how Aki is feeling - It has no right to make her wet, herself, shouldn't be making her this excited to see the change in her expression and the desperate adjustment to make this better per Aki's words.]

[But Denji shifts around on her and splits her pussy open, the wetness so obvious and so apparent and her red-and-pink cunt so tantalizing... She could groan from just that sight, the way her fingers pull herself open as she stares down at her, waiting. She should just reject her. Tell her to roll over and stop being a bother. That she already got to come once tonight and that should be enough. That - Aren't her legs like putty right now? Like custard, or jelly? She stares at the drool of her arousal that clings to Denji's thighs and has the thought that they must taste so good and soft, if she bit into them and listened to her yelp. Maybe that's where the custard has settled.]

[She'll blame it on something else tomorrow, she decides, and lets out a beleagured sigh. The hand on Denji's thigh goes tight as the one on her breast moves to her back. She yanks her forward and buries herself right back in, the new real estate from how her fingers stretch her lips making it that much easier to find new places, fuck her tongue in that much deeper. Her face is warm and damp and she can smell and taste every bit of her, the small flecks of blood from when she pumped her fingers into her, the overwhelming scent of arousal spilling from her. Having fun, huh. Is she having fun right now? It's more like the longer this goes on, the more she keeps tugging Denji along toward her and acting like this is an annoyance rather than a turn on, the more the shame battles with the fun. If only she could turn it off and have "fun" like Denji.]

[...Embarrassing.]

[The hand on her thigh slides up and cups her ass, coaxing her forward. Hopefully she can't see how red her face must be, how her eyes keep threatening to close in pleasure. What's there to find pleasure in this? she wants to snap, even though she knows the answer. Embarrassing.]

[ There's a limit to how selfish one girl can be. Or there should be one. A regular person under regular circumstances should feel more embarrassed, reticent in what she's asking from Aki when she's already made off with so much, but such is the nature of a parasite. A dog you feed only once, without thinking, without assuming you'll be its only source of nourishment through a bitter winter. It isn't the ache squirming inside her belly that smolders whatever her shame, but simply how easy Aki answers her. Bids her when Denji begs. Heaves her forward, tongues her like she's got a hole that's bottomless, like she'll never find a dead end anywhere inside her. Shame doesn't make its appearance, because she has the smallest hope that Aki can accept this excruciating side of her, the one that can't keep her mouth closed, can't hold her body accountable for groaning, riding out the persistent bobbing of that well-used muscle in her mouth.

Ah, maybe there should be a limit to wishful thinking, too.

Denji's back falls hard and flat atop Aki's legs, fingers forming a pincer around the tongue pulsing inside her to keep herself wide and accessible. Her eyes flutter up as a hit of pleasure seizes her back, makes her pussy quake. The base of her head fuzzes with cotton, clogging every corner with this sense tightened airiness; she thinks she could combust any second. Aki plunges into her, and it's like nothing else she's ever experienced. Face turned into the side of Aki's knee, she connects a kiss to the fold — a gesture that holds all her clumsy affection and respect for the other woman. However, it doesn't dim this sense that she hasn't pulled enough of her weight. So the next moment after — ]

W-Wait! Hold on. Lemme… turn around.

[ Denji stammers, only present enough to slur her sentences together through brute will and force. That out the way, she withdraws herself from Aki with a reluctant hum — as if this hadn't been her prerogative, even though it certainly was. She fumbles around, repositioning herself by turning to sit the opposite way. Her stomach lowers, parallel to Aki's, and without a single to her, she presses her nose back into Aki's very own overripe cunt. She nips at a fold, taking in the strength of her aroma as she brings a finger over Aki's clit, rubbing her in a constant circle. ]

There, [ she mumbles, mouth positively salivating. ] That's it.

[This is the part of Denji that Aki can't always wrap her head around, the part that thinks on the fly and seeks out something better even when she's right in a sweet spot, content in a position that gives her what she wants. Suddenly her body is rolling over and readjusting and suddenly she can feel hot breath on her lips, can feel the way Denji almost drools over her even if she can't see it. This, she's never done. This, this is new. But she grabs Denji around the thigh and tugs her in close, lapping her up and continuing without a word. No praise, no complementing her ingenuity. None of that. She'll chicken out if she has to do something like that right now.]

[Because then Denji is touching her and her stomach jumbles, her body twitching harshly at the simple contact of her finger on her clit. She's still sensitive and it's terrible but it's incredible. The way it makes her tongue stutter and a groan build in her throat from just that first touch. She wraps her lips around Denji's clit in silent appreciation, monkey see, monkey do. Something like that. Her tongue plays at the nub before she backs off and continues fucking it up into her instead. She should be better about this and give her what Aki would want in this situation but Denji's having fun and shouldn't she be, too? Shouldn't she be allowing herself to get drunk on this flavor? This sensation? The shame is so deep in her chest but even that's bouncing when she shifts into Denji's face, her stomach clenching as she tilts her legs open and coaxes her onward.]

[God, her chest. Driven by that inkling of desire, she takes a breath and lowers her hands, grasping at Denji's chest and fondling her smaller tits, tweaking her nipples. Fun, right? This is fun. It's like she's searching it out, desperate to upstage her yet she knows Denji will only ever see this as a duet.]

[ To Denji, a duet just feels more natural. Presumably, she's letting her tuck into bed after this, the two of them close and side by-side, like — like real lovers. Sex should be like that all the time, probably. You should be together with the other person after. You should also get to come together, at least once, at least at some point. She doesn't have much of a preconceived notion of how romantic sex should play out, aside from it being a delicately balanced, but equal, distribution of oversensation between you and the person you love — or care about in some fashion, whatever. But her idea of her first time has changed a lot in the past few hours, so she won't discount the possibility that there's room for more to bend, but she'd like to try this one thing out.

Seems hellbound on it, licking her way up the opening to Aki's vagina, gently probing without actually intruding inside. Her strokes at the shiny bud press on, press harder, not minding the way she flinches under her, the shaky sounds fading into Denji's very cunt. Though when she feels her teasing the tips of her nipples, pinching them into sore and aching peaks, she can't contain the cry that soars out of her. Her cunt almost sucking back at Aki, trembling, eroded and uprooted, and trying to find stable ground anywhere within reach. And if she has to pound her hips into a place with teeth, a too-long tongue that makes her head fuzzy with cotton candy, to get there, then so be it. She'll have her own revenge.

Denji twists her head and thrusts her tongue into Aki; the angle's different, but she makes do. Sharply flicks and arches the muscle into her ridged walls like she's trying to strip Aki's defenses down to a cluster of humming nerves. Meanly, she catches her nail against her clit, pushing, protracting her sensitivity. Even meaner, her other hand swipes at the tack covering her thigh and slips toward her ass, barely spends a second whirling at her rim before shallowly pumping in with her middle finger. ]

Tight.

[ She mumbles into Aki's pussy, but it only takes a second stubborn pulse to get her knuckle sheathed all the way inside her, crooked — so that she can feel the exact spot her tongue is imprinted from the opposite wall. ]

[Even if Aki wanted to lay back and enjoy the plethora of attacks Denji sends onto her body, she couldn't. Denji is shoving her crotch into her face in a way that would suffocate her if she was any stronger or steadier about this. It's like being force fed a meal, the plate held up to your lips and the scraps slid down your throat one after another, but Aki doesn't complain or try and readjust. There's a sense that she should and that she's letting Denji take control of things too much, but when that gets too overbearing of an emotion she lets her hands cup around her chest, squeeze, flick. Hears that noise out of her, and - Yeah. Yeah, she can still --]

Denji!

[She yelps her name out when the finger pulses into her, pressing against the shallow divide between one side and the next. Immediately her hands jump off her tits and go down to her head, one curling in her locks right below her ear and the other trying to find the wrist of the hand that's plunged into her, made difficult thanks to the angle they're at.]

You can't just - do whatever you want, you little...!

[And then she starts to roll, intent on switching their positions. Her thighs are weak and her legs are twitchy, but she'll try it.]

[ Denji doesn't think of herself as weaker than Aki. Both of their instincts have been honed to a certain degree, sure, but if anything, she's more durable, effective at dealing a prolific amount of damage all at once, overkilling their targets to the point of no return. All the way until whatever they're up against is a nice, scummy spread on the cement. That's what makes Denji valuable in combat; she's a machine whose motor never runs out of gasoline.

The thing is there's a reason why Aki was charged to look after her and Power. she's smarter. She's more experienced. She didn't just intensely piss herself out in the living room. And she gets the jump on her easily. ]

Eh, huh? [ She gasps, body twisted, bouncing from the springiness of the mattress, head pinned into the puff of the blankets. Whining, in an instant: ] You — hey, things were just gettin' good —

[ Denji doesn't waste a moment before trying to surge back up, knee thrust between their stomachs, pressing hard to get the one-up on her. Turn them back around the way she had them. ]

You liked it, [ she accuses again, scornfully. As if to remind Aki. ]

[She's so annoying. Always just taking whatever she wants, doing what she wants... Denji shoves her knee into Aki's stomach and Aki inhales sharply, beginning to teeter back, but instead of letting herself fall she reaches out and slams a hand on the wall, using it for leverage as she snatches for Denji's wrist instead.]

It's not about liking or not - [She's not getting into this right now. Frustrated, she tries to turn her, working to push Denji onto her chest and twist her arm behind her back. Denji's too stupid to know anything about getting out of holds, Aki has assumed, and nor does she think Kishibe ever taught her these skills, the old hag.] You know what happens when you fuck with something in a way you're not supposed to. [She gets it confiscated, obviously. Aki will find her pouring out all the furikake in one go into a single bowl of rice and take the whole dish away from her as punishment - Things like that. This is the same process. Dog logic. She aims to sit on Denji's legs, pin her down to the bed with her arm pulled behind her, but she's out of breath and horny, her grip flinching even as she subconsciously delights in attempting to fold her.] Hasn't anyone told you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Ughhhh, stop making up words! No one's told me that — [ they have, she's just forgotten ] — because not everyone's a crazy bitch!

[ She blows harshly at a lock of hair plastered to her face, the air flipping it up before falling back over her furious eyes again. Aki's fashioned her into a pretzel, is what it feels like being shoved into her mattress with no mechanism of getting out. That's distressing on its own, but what's even more so is how her slag superior has stopped warming Denji's cunt with her hands, her suctioning kisses, her excessively skilled tongue that knows just where to lash her just right. Did she really have to stop to lecture her?

From under Aki, she strains to arch her back, wiggle her ass, do anything at all to hurl her off her high horse, but nothing quite does the trick. Finally, she slams down, tired, panting dryly into the covers, a hint of a whine edging into her breaths. Her inner thighs are horrendously drenched, belly chomping at the bit to rub, press, take something hot and insistent inside her. ]

Nngh, if I did it wrong — then show me. Show me the right way you're s'posed to fuck with something.

[It's so... embarrassing, how the feeling of Denji struggling under her and grunting and groaning her frustrations sends the heat of arousal up her chest. Aki grips her wrist tight, clamping down on the desire to simply lean right back in and chew up her neck, leave her covered in spots and bruises, enough to make her remember this exact moment the next time she thinks of acting out. And, just as subconsciously, her asshole flutters, still tense from the memory of her brief, exploratory prod.]

[Denji tells her to show her and Aki has half a mind to do just that. Not explain anything and just fuck her with her fingers until she sullies her bedsheets. But - No. No, because there's that old saying about giving a man a fish, or something. Pressing her knees down between her legs, she slides her thigh against Denji's crotch, both allowing her something to grind against as well as forcing her legs open while she leans forward.]

First of all... You're not the one in charge. [For some reason, this feels like the most important thing to stress. Like reminding a dog to sit, not to bite, not to bark.]Second - You can't just touch wherever you want, how you want. There's a method to this kind of stuff.

[Her free hand swipes through her pussy, gathering a coating of wetness that she then slides up and over her taint and toward her ass. Gently teasing around the hole, she doesn't push in, doesn't fuck forward into her like an animal, instead simply teases the muscles and slides the lubrication around it.]

You're just a horny brat - You don't think about anything you do, you just do it. Don't you know how annoying that is?

[ Aki would have her rules, even in sex. Neuroses, inhibitions, even while she's rolling in bed with someone just trying to slow-pump her full of warmth, trying to pollinate the feeling. Is that really so shameless of her? Is that what makes Denji a horny brat in need of punishment? She's half-tempted to ask, but any further debate isn't worth the breath. She's using that air for something else already. ]

Aah, nnn… Shut up…

[ It's a relief the curtains are pulled, the lights switched off. When her legs spread to accommodate the leg, she's so wet, her pussy spreads easy around Aki's knee, blooming pink — hungry and carnivorous. Slipping and sliding against that solid bend, welcoming the intrusion. If she thinks too hard about the view Aki has of her whole frame shivering, how she's skating her fingers up and down, from hole to hole, she'll lose it. She's losing it right now, technically, but at least she still feels in control enough to be patient.

Once when Aki was in the kitchen roasting fish in the toaster oven, she told her the timing of when you pull out the tray is important. That you have to wait, make sure it's given enough time to rest in its juices and spices and herbs, so that the meat pulls apart from the bone without resistance, and she'd be been right. The fish was supple, delicate, and buttery. She could have it again and again without getting tired.

There's a part of her that thinks, maybe, the same principle, the same method, could be applied here. That if she bakes in her own sweat and mess, what happens next will be so perfect, this won't be the last time they dine together. ]

I just thought, [ she stops there, teeth clenched. Unable to explain herself. Not wanting to. ] Fine — ugh, fine! You're in charge, Aki —

[ Her hips twitch, the rim of her asshole shining. Puckered almost into a pout. ]

Won't be annoying from now on, promise, I promise…

[Experience tells her Denji is lying. Well, not lying, simply wrong. Denji will promise not to do something and then trip head-first into doing exactly that. She'll swear not to use all the toilet paper in one trip and then end up using it all to clog a bloody nose. Roundabout lies that aren't lies because they aren't intentional. Not every time, at least.]

[But You're in charge, Aki, graces her ears and Aki thinks - Obviously. That's just how it is. How it's supposed to be. Someone like Denji who can't even handle Power most days - Yeah. She takes in a breath, briefly rubbing her finger against her thumb, then presses the digit inside.]

[She's never fingered someone's ass before, only had it surprised upon her. Maybe that's why she reacted so negatively - The way her perverted senior did it, shutting up any complaints or snapping with a deeper kiss and a harsher palm against her clit. Not like Denji could manage any of that, of course. Guiding her thumb further in, her fingers slide down to glide between her lips, the middle one pressing forward and playing against where she gets tight, where her soaked cunt tries to suck her inwards.]

See - Slow, like this. [No, it's not pleasing like that. She knows it just as well. But even if Denji is quasi-immortal and has a body that snaps back after a gulp of blood, there's something fragile about her all the same. How she recognizes this is all brand new to her, how she wants to jump into the deep end but Aki wants to hold her in the shallow side first, grasping her arms and reminding her to kick. Pressing her finger a little deeper, past the clench of muscle, her thumb moves a knuckle further and then pulls back, both retreating at once before pushing back in - slow.] Just like that.

[ Everything up to this point has had a steep learning curve with steeper repercussions to complement. It's not the normal nature of life, but it is of Denji's. When there's a tidal wave rushing at your back, daintily dipping your toe into the water gets you washed out; someone like her knows you have to get paddling. Whether you're flailing or not, failing or not, it doesn't matter that you're swimming well. What matters is that you make it out with your chin above water. That's good enough.

But with sex — this thing with Aki, it isn't. Apparently, it's not just about feeling good, but how you feel it, is what she's learning. In a way, she understood that already, to an extent. It's why she tried so hard earlier, to overcompensate for her inexperience, because if she can't do something well, she can at least overwhelm her into not noticing. And it's why, at first, the tenderness with which Aki steadily does the same thing Denji had, but with both her holes, but better, but right, tastes torturous, tang on the tip of her tongue. The stretch of her fingers dragging inside her openings, making ground and then not, then pulling back in tandem, tastes like she has an axe to grind and she's chosen her body for the whetstone.

Briefly, Denji wonders if she's mad at her. She knows damn well there are myriad reasons for it, to treat her piss poor, but the thought doesn't fit right in these circumstances. Doesn't slot into place when it sounds like Aki's cooing at her, showing her how to do it just like that, just like how Denji asked.

Yeah, maybe she's imagining things. Maybe she's thinking too much. ]

Feels — mm, hah —

[ She doesn't know what to feel, can't even finish the sentence before she's groaning. Her hot insides squeezing around her fingers, cunt weeping fresh self-lubricant all across Aki's palm, down to her wrist. The heel of her foot gives an involuntary kick into the air, as if the touch had triggered some sort of strained reflex. ]

Where'd you — learn that?

[Almost out of instinct, Aki releases Denji and snatches for her leg when it kicks out, thrusts into the air with no actual threat to harm her. It's a reaction she can't entirely control but pretends like it is with how she moves her leg back into place, continues to sweep her fingers forward and along her inner walls. Once the moment has passed, though, it digests and Aki recognizes it - that she reacted just from this touch, that she's enjoying this.]

[Embarrassing. That's what it is - to be so turned on by that fact. It's embarrassing.]

Experience. [It's the only answer she deigns to give. Leaning over her, leg released and her arms now free, Aki can adjust herself to cup against her crotch and better thrust her fingers in, scissor them and twist them inside of her with the fresh wetness spilling out. She's making a mess of the very bedding she was just a minute ago preparing to crawl into and fall fast, fast asleep, but of course nothing can be so cleanly gotten with Denji.] You'll get there, too.

[She leans over and kisses her shoulder, then trails the brief pecks along her skin as her fingers continue. What had begun slow and torturous has increased in intensity but not as much speed - the motions are direct and purposeful, each adjustment and thrust and twist meant to elicit a feeling, not simply to overwhelm. She wants her to feel this, feel why it feels good. And why does she want her to understand that? It's not self-serving, she has no illusions of Denji being able to do this for her. So is it because she wants her to feel good? To understand this part of her?]

[Embarrassing. It's so embarrassing, the side of her this mutt brings out.]

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