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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[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.]

[ Pure feeling simultaneously powers Denji and sends her wriggling like a live wire that's been snapped in half. Newly freed hands rake up and down the sheets, warring against the bed upholstering. Her back, shimmering with sweat, tenses and flexes at every light press of Aki's berry-sweet lips, like an animal unused to the sensation. She can't work her head around why it's so pleasant. Can't unearth enough rationale to question Aki's forecast, either, when her mind is bogged down by how her voice rings so near, so clear, so sure. You'll get there, too — not a condescension, not a tossed together dream sprinkled into a mixing bowl, whisked into a sorry simulacrum. But something tangible she can squeeze her arms around, nuzzle her face into. Something that will happen, is happening, is squeezing her back. And, somehow, the fact that it's Aki of all people that's providing this 'experience' to her is the least surprising thing about this predicament.

No, what's taken the cake are the digits thickly retreating and jamming between her legs. How their insertion, the thrusting, though purposeful, isn't mindlessly violent. There aren't any brains on the floor, no blood swimming from her nose. When Aki crooks her fingers, pulses against her, the edge of both her fingers almost rubbing each other through that wall, lurching, wringing out her juices, the suffering isn't exceptional. For whatever reason, she can sense Aki's attention and care to her comfort, and it's that which ignites the feverish backwards swaying of her hips. Her hand gropes behind her, grabbing at Aki's ass, dragging her in as fingers dig into her supple flesh, certain to leave behind a five-fingered dimple in her cheek whenever she lets go.

She gasps for air, and it doesn't hurt to breathe. Maybe it doesn't have to. ]

Take me — ah, take me there…! A-ki —

[ Torso slightly lifting off from the mattress, Denji growls her name around her bitten, swollen lips, while palming her own breast, thumb pushing and teasing at a nipple. Her culminating need amounts to her legs spreading wider for Aki, foot close to hanging off the edge of the bed, toes curled into the air.

She thinks she gets it now. Whoever it was that came up with the idea this was a dog eat dog world probably should have had better sex. ]

[With no effort at all, she's able to say the most shameless, embarrassing things, and the grasp to her ass that sends a spark of brief pain through her skin brings Aki in close to that voice. She needs a hand to hold herself up and she needs a hand to fuck her with and that means she can't simply push her hand away and instead can only move toward her, feel her breath as she moans and lifts off the mattress. It exposes her throat and it's where she immediately wants to go, but she's not the kind of person who bites from the spot with the most icing on the donut. She'll save the best spot for last, instead leaning in to kiss against the sides of her lips, coax her into turning her head to bring her over the edge.]

Denji - [Such a needy kid, but it's fun to feed a dog who looks delighted at every bit of kibble you give them. Briefly she understands Makima's fascination with her, the way he can play with the end of her leash even as the collar is choking her. She kisses toward the middle of her lips and coaxes them open. Just, hopefully, she won't piss all over her bed.]

[ The brink is fast-approaching. She recognizes it distantly, can feel it coming on like her head's to the ground and the rumblings of a landslide are whispering to her ear. Strained, weak whimpers hiccup out of her with each swing and swish down of her body, just the slightest second out of rhythm with the sopping churn of Aki's digits, still electrifying the ridged nerves packed between her walls, still doing their worst.

When Aki bows in close to her, tips of her chest pressed to her shoulder blades, she feels the smallest adjustment to the angle of her fingers, but it's more than enough to get Denji groaning. Whining through her bitten lips, wishing they were face to face so she could paw and beat at her torso because it feels too good, too much. Then her kiss catches at the corner of her mouth, prompting bleary eyes to blink backwards at Aki, knowing without needing to exchange a word what she's after. Her lips arch forward, searching for that last savory bite of Aki to send Denji crashing and burning.

Oh —

Her body feels coiled, clenched, like it's climbing to the extremest of altitudes and she's subconsciously trying to conserve the oxygen in her lungs as warm pressure builds behind her scalp — up until their mouths connect, rough and lasting, Denji sucking on her lower lip, nose tipping into her cheek. She wails out, cunt doubling down around Aki, squeezing, squeezing, not caring whether another splash were to cascade down or a few fingers were to break. A little mess, a little abuse — she finds a bit of both makes coming even better. But nothing streams down Aki's arm this time, her orgasm dragging on longer for it. Simply a pile of gasps and twitching limbs, she shivers sharply against Aki, would probably fall limply forward into the mattress if she weren't still holding on to her.

If she'd known that sex could be this easy, pleasure this bottomless, she would have knocked on Aki's door a long time ago.

After a few minutes, Denji heaves a weighty breath. She hasn't fully recollected her brain cells, really, but she starts to stickily untwist herself from Aki, turning, so that she can flop on her back. Hands at Aki's waist, trying to pull her down along with her. ]

…Lemme do you.

[It's always exciting to experience an orgasm through a kiss. Denji's body flexes and bends and flinches as it runs through her and Aki doesn't shy away from her lips, eagerly (eagerly? crap, this really did become "eager" at some point) swallowing up the noises she makes and the breaths that leak out. She only backs off when Denji does, briefly nipping her lip as they separate before setting her head down on the bed, slipping her fingers free. She can feel her arousal soaking her enough to give her raisins on the pads of each one that was inside her. But then Denji is tugging her over her, coaxing her up and on top of her body. Maybe she wants to cuddle again...? She moves without much pause, then raises her brows at her declaration.]

...I'm older than you, you know. I don't bounce back that quickly. [She settles her legs on either side of her but doesn't put any weight on her body, doesn't use her as a seat.] Didn't expect you to, either. [Not that she's shaming her, it was just... surprising. In fact, they're in the opposite situation to how this all began, aren't they? After a moment, she admits,] I thought you just wanted to get warm. Not get off again.

I — like getting off.

[ Put simply, rasped by a glassy-eyed Denji, breaths still licking up her parched throat in accelerated waves. That's probably the only answer she needs to explain herself. But eyes drawn up to Aki, Denji's head cushioned by her pillow, body nestled comfortably in her bed, sandwiched between her legs — she finds it all too easy to run her mouth. Sleepily, she slides up from Aki's ankle to the interior of her thigh, fingers rubbing at the fine grittiness coating her otherwise soft skin. ]

Sometimes, if I put the work in, I can do a few at a time. Not so much after I moved out here, since I'm so busy being a working class citizen now — which bites. Usually, I just wanna take a long nap right after the first go.

[ So its become more of a procedural thing. Something to titillate her imagination, reset her brain, end the night on a peak. And if she feels extra good, that's just another cherry to enjoy. Who knows if it's like that for other folks, though. Note to self, ask Aki one of these days. ]

But I thought, with you, I could do it. You really can't go again?

[Then Denji gets it. The exhaustion that takes over you, as a "working class citizen." Aki wants to argue that she wouldn't give herself such a title, she's at least middle class, but with her fingers traveling, she settles for giving her a tired look at her insistence.]

I don't push it, since I'm satisfied with one. There's such a thing as over-consumption.

[Denji will never understand such a concept. Aki shifts her hips opening her legs up and all at once allowing Denji's fingers against her.]

You've got five minutes, but if I'm still tired by then, then we're going to bed. Got it?

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