Peter stubbed his toe on a cupboard when answering the door. His overeagerness fueled by hype for a new VR game rushed him enough to tangle his legs and make him smash the foot. It took all his will to stifle the curses following a cry of pain. There wasn’t the time for any of that, a carrier was waiting, and Peter was too conscious of making him wait.
Her, as it actually was; the delivery was made by a young woman, dressed in a work outfit, but which the top consisted of a blue shirt, clinging to her sizable breasts. The bust gravitated Peter’s eyes, and cough was necessary to break off their leer. When the spell was broken, the woman steadily put her hands on her hips and barely hid her contempt.
The embarrassment cured his toe and made Peter self-conscious. He was a lanky chap, dark hair, brown eyes and swarthy skin. On him was his creasy T-shirt, comfort shorts and socks. Not an image that you would present yourself with. He promptly reminded himself that he was not a cherry boy and did the adult thing: awkward-politely received the package, refusing to acknowledge that something was amiss. After the driver was out of sight, he made a solemn decision not to choose this particular delivery company in fear that he would reunite with the girl again.
Peter’s mulling didn’t last long, and moments later, he already was typing a digital key for Dragons & Wenches on his computer. In a hurry, he only managed to unbox one other item: a large poster of a topless goblin girl lying on her stomach, cleavage and pouty lips facing a lucky owner straight on. It was fine art, packaged with the Collector’s Edition, along with a figurine of the game’s marketable love interest and an artbook filled with softcore porn. As one might imagine, the game had a peculiar way of breaking the market, but the sales spoke for themselves. When it was first announced, the title was mocked hard on online message boards as the product that would make VR mainstream. And a surprise to all, even the developers, it had done just that. Millions stormed the stores, broke their piggy banks and bought new VR units just to get the full experience: a grand adventure, intricate storyline, memorable characters and digital tits.
It was Friday morning, but also a day off for Peter. He had very much intended to indulge himself in the VR experience and healthy exercise it came with it. It mainly consisted of moving the furniture to make room for play, and the occasional swing of an arm in-game. He lived alone in a tiny studio apartment, sporting an even tinier bathroom and a fridge. That made arranging a required 6 by 6 feet area a creative task which completion always led to a mess and a furniture maze in the end.
Still, the fruit of the labour was well worth it. The man readied his VR set and tested a curiosity that was unannouncedly packed in with the delivery: a gratis pair of earbuds. They came as a bonus thanking early supporters for 3 million copies sold worldwide. It was a welcome gift of fantastic quality and a boon that will finally relieve his worn headphones out of their duty. Peter only wished they weren’t pink. The colour wasn’t his cup of tea.
The coveted instant came to be as the game flashed and immersed the young man into the virtual reality. Peter donned his headset and equipped the two hand controllers. The pink earbuds fit his ears neatly. All was ready.
A boring intro had passed, and character customisation has replaced it. A handsome and muscular man appeared, an avatar in whose shoes a player would spend his time questing and fighting. The choices were broad, but in a way, always the same: do you pick a generic guy, RL representation, self-insert or sardonic hideous creature shaped to haunt fellow players? Others would be able to see it as the game was an MMORPG. Somehow. The developers didn’t advertise that at first, and the feature was disclosed almost at the last minute. It was a mystery how it was supposed to work, but the reviews were favourable anyway.
Peter played with the avatar but couldn’t make up his mind. Annoyed, he clicked sex toggle to female. The persona in front of him vanished, and a girl popped in instead. Peter’s eyes popped, too, as the significant factor in his decision-making revealed itself: the jiggle on the hefty boobs. It was accompanied by a sway of hips and a shake of a butt, all done by a scantly clothed feminine figure. When Peter crouched, so too the avatar, and hence the boobs heaved in their bounce down. And when he raised, they would too. The character that is.
Would Peter choose a female warrior just to ogle at their pointy features from the first-person? Of course not, but the button confirming the character selection pressed itself. After that, the last step of the preamble was naming the avatar. Peter wanted to distance himself and put “SHAG_MASTER69” into the input field. A dialogue box asked in turn if “SHAG_MASTER69 was the hero’s name?”. It was a rhetorical question since the game refused to pass any obscene names. The irony wasn’t lost on the barely covered avatar as it stayed there in dumbfounded expression. There wasn’t anything else to do but to hit a randomiser and go with what it gives.
And so Peter played as a Lacie, a young adventurer seeking glory in a small village neighbouring a monster-filled forest. As was expected from a first-person VR game, he could see his avatar’s female body and move her arms freely. He moved, and the character followed with their animation. The title had an option of motion-capturing the rest of the body, but Peter had not found a money tree to afford the required hardware. However, there was enough immersion for him as he discovered a small rivulet in the tutorial area. The player crouched beside it to gape at the reflection of Lacie’s panties. He moved left and right to see the jiggle of the butt too. The graphics were quite good nowadays.
The physics engine also was superb as the collision between the breasts and the arms was well defined and emulated. It was after some time that Peter recalled that this was an MMORPG game and someone might be watching. Not a kid, hopefully, since it was an 18+ game. Thankfully, no one was in sight. He must have moved to a secluded spot, it seems. The erection in his shorts was obviously not represented in-game, yet he tried to preserve his decency by not disturbing it with a touch. It would coerce Lacie into doing indecent things.
The pink earplugs buzzed strangely in Peter’s head. The sensation passed after an instant, but it left the man quite startled. He moved his pretty feet out of the stream, pausing to wonder what had happened. The game might have had bugged out, or the hardware could have failed. Nothing appeared to have changed, so Peter waved the incident aside. The game was too entertaining to fret about occasional glitches.
The tutorial area demonstrated basic game mechanics like gear management, combat, and questing. During the process, he managed to get a good look at his character. After a swift shopping trip, Lacie had a small beret on her long black hair, a white shirt that barely bore her breasts and brown leather shorts that clung to her round ass. The skin of thighs was visible through a gap between shorts and white overknee socks, all tight enough to make the flesh protrude slightly.
“Do you have anything else to sell?” said the general merchant in front of him, by a manner of text box since the dialogue wasn’t voiced beyond coughs, laughs and moans. The last was only present on female NPCs for some inexplicable reason and more often let out than it was modest. It was all a part of the experience for Peter, though.
The VR dizziness sometimes caught up to Peter, the usual strain for someone lacking VR legs, not used to the false motions of the virtual world, which in turn caused sickness. Usually, if that had happened, he would end the gaming session right there, letting himself rest and get some snacks and drink. The previously mysterious buzzing of the earplugs found its explanation here: they were here to remedy motion sickness.
Peter foggily remembered some details out of the device’s packaging. Anti-nausea Subliminal Low-voltage Ultrasound Treatment, it was called. It had a name that was quite a mouthful, but it worked. Whenever his stomach got upset or his head ached, the quick session of ASMR-worthy hum would sound, and all problems would vanish. The relief was so euphoric that he clenched his muscles and let out a small gasp every single time it occurred. Once, it happened near another player, who seemed to have enjoyed it with a smirk. That made Lacie fumble with her hair in shame.
The new task had appeared on the bulletin board in the village centre from a herbalist. The NPC who ran the shop was a comely blond girl in a salmon summer dress. Cait, as that was her name, had a quest to obtain rare ingredients for a prototype potion she eagerly wanted to brew. She spoke with her arms under her breasts.
“Hail, traveller! Would you hear my request? Tom, the general merchant, always bickers about his back pain, but none of my usual medicines makes him feel any better. I unearthed a recipe for a great concoction that I think would very much help him, but I need ingredients. Would you be as nice to acquire them for me?”
She joined her arms together to make a pleading gesture, slowly spreading her bosom aside, waiting for the player to agree to her request. The dizziness has come again harder this time, making Peter stumble a collapse on the spot. The earplugs worked their magic, banishing any sign of illness. But the harsh blow of sickness placed a hand on his mouth. The anxiety had welled up his chest.
“Maybe those earbuds do not cure dizziness but let you ignore it? Wait. If it’s true, then did I make the motion sickness worse?” Peter thought, desperately trying to recollect the package labels in search of the answer. He must have thrown it out already, so he would have to dive in the trash to dig it up. Yet, getting any glimpses of his memories was like slowly descending through an opaque lake. He was sure he hadn’t imagined all the details about the earbuds. He just couldn’t quite place when exactly did he read it.
He still hadn’t risen up from the floor. Cait pouted now, impatient for the response. The rational and sensible option to choose would have been to take the headset off. Lie down on the couch, get some rest, hydrate himself. He still wanted to play the game and didn’t want yet to leave for today. The earplugs buzzed again, this time in a firm tone, sternly stating to get up. He felt a rush of energy hidden inside of him. The device helped him find it. He felt grateful, very much so. The harsh jolt that he experienced was there for a reason. It was a firm grasp from a long time friend telling him to pull himself together, all in good faith, a motherly embrace.
“What?” he said, confused, as he traced back the string of consciousness in his mind. The shop came back to him, and the herbalist was still waiting. The quest was accepted already, by accident probably. Peter still clung to what happened before, but as Cait skipped around the shop, he felt an eagerness to get a move on. There was still time left to play. After all, the adventure awaited, and he had a long way to become a great warrior. In the game, that is. There had to be some scoreboard to climb and rank up.
—
The herbs grew in a particular spot, deep within the forest. It was darker here; the turf was brown and mossy, barely scraping by since trees up above gobbled the sunlight all for themselves. The difficulty of the area was unexpected. The monsters that rove about in the vicinity were more dangerous than those near the village. Thankfully, Lacie was equipped and prepared to deal with them, one beast at the time. The health potions were a lifesaver since there was no avoiding wounds suffered in the process. Peter could kiss the merchant that sold them in sincere thanks.
Soon he gathered all the ingredients. Strangely no headache showed up to pulse again, and his stomach was iron enough. He only felt exhausted from the exercise as the combat wasn’t just done from a dropdown menu. It required a fair amount of swinging, twisting and crouching. The murk surroundings had an apparent effect of chilling his sweat. He had no idea how the psychology of that worked since his apartment should be warmed up by now. He wasn’t about to complain, though.
The village hummed with its inhabitants rushing to do their last chores before returning to their steads. Some players with their nametags above their heads could be spotted running straight or congregating in a few hotspots. The herbalist’s hut was at the outskirts, behind a small ridge of someone’s field. When Peter had entered the building, Cait greeted him excitedly.
“Have you picked all that that I asked you for?” She made a joyous expression as she hurried to take Peter’s bag. Then she rushed and banged the door to the back of the store. The player wanted to say something about a reward, but it was too late now. Not that he had any option of stopping scripted interactions with NPCs. He never had been a fan of long cutscenes, but the girl was cute enough, and small interactions with her soothed the passing time.
“Here, drink this.” was what she said immediately upon returning to the counter. Her golden locks moved forward with her. Her leaning put the sizable cleave, wrapped in salmon dress, again in Peter’s sight. There wasn’t much time to admire the view as it got obstructed by a vial hovering right over Lacie’s nose.
“The payment…” started Peter, startled from the sheer radiance of the girl. He tried to push the girl’s hand in front of his face aside, but to no avail, it wouldn’t budge.
“Oh, I’ll pay you that and more. Just drink it. Yes! Drink it in one go. WhooAaah.” Cait let an ecstatic cry watching Peter drink the concoction. The aggressiveness of the approach made it inevitable for him to relent and comply. Surprised, the man had to acknowledge the great work that was put into this cutscene. It was impressive how seamless was the illusion of interaction at the moment. The added voiced-over lines made the experience even more immersive. In fact, Peter had never before felt that immersed in VR experience. He could have sworn it was his eyes closing as the potion effect misfired, his groaning in pain in a reaction.
The dizziness hit him hard this time. So much that his eyes had closed and his legs buckled. The ringing of the earbuds didn’t help at all this time; it just made it worse. Laboriously panting, Peter clutched his stomach, tried once again to get up, open his eyes. Out of the narrow field of view, he could see panicking Cait shouting and reaching for the shelves in desperation. The pain was real enough for him to decide on abruptly ending the playing session. He tried to take the headset off his forehead. His hand failed to grasp any VR googles. Instead, his fingertips swept smooth skin sideways and gave a tug to long silky black hair that must have, strangely, belonged to him. That was the last of Peter’s consciousness.
—
When Peter woke up, he was lying on a bed, hugged by a thick woollen blanket. His sluggish, confounded mind tried to make sense of the situation. It made his right arm escape the comfy cover in an attempt to pry the headset off his eyes. But he couldn’t reach for something that didn’t exist. What was there when he brushed against the chest, jerked him upright.
“Aah!” he said. Someone else’s voice made the sound, however. The high pitch still came from him, a tone that he associated with one particular person. “It isn’t happening!” he cried, tumbling down with soft blankets to the birch panelling. He sat on his fat rump. The large standing mirror in front of him reflected Lacie, his avatar from the game. She was naked underneath, dishevelled long black hair hanging from her head that accommodated a cute face.
Once again, he screamed, this time pushing out blankets out of the way in a last-ditch effort to deny what was happening. His arms pried open the cloth on his chest, baring what was in there: a pair of enormous tits freed to bounce up and down. The stunned expression on Lacie persisted for long. Through the freeze of her body, up until her vocal cords once gain seized up.
“Fuck!” said Peter as he jumped nude to stand. He instinctively closed his legs to hide what was and wasn’t there. He couldn’t force himself to look, but he had to be sure. Peter reached for his crotch to confirm the state of his once-proud member. Obviously, it wasn’t there, as he was well aware, but instead, his fingers slid off the pubic mound to brush against a bristly, softly moist quim. His quim now.
Sometime later, Cait entered the room to encounter Lacie sitting on the floor, sulking in a cloak made of her blanket. Seeing the heartbroken girl, she sobbed herself as she rushed to hug her. They stayed in a soft embrace for a while longer, silent until finally, Cait spoke up.
“I’m so sorry that I had you drink that. I was so sure it would just heal you. But then, you just collapsed, and… I am so sorry that you had to suffer through that.” Peter didn’t blame the girl in the slightest, not that she looked to have the divine power that brought him to the game’s world. Whether or not this was a simulation or another reality is up to debate, but it felt genuine to him. Some parts, at least, since the boner between his legs was replaced by a distinct awareness of his tits’ weight.
“I’ll let you stay in my house for as long as you wish. I owe you that much, and I’d be happy if you did. Let me provide you with some clothes. Yours were too filthy with blood and dirt, so I asked Mrs Brook to wash them for you. Something should fit you, Lacie.” Cait proceeded to search the cupboards, in the process tossing dresses, panties and bras about. Her supportive manner lessened Peter’s helplessness, but his sense of loss still lingered.
The mood improved over the course of dress-up, although it was more of a sparring contest between the two of them. The herbalist isn’t very much a prude scholar that you could associate with her profession. The lingerie her collection consisted of would be considered sexy, to put it mildly. Peter pleaded with the girl to find something plain, but she wouldn’t be satisfied with only asking if he liked lacy black thong. There were, after all, red g-stings to consider and crotchless panties to try out. The last was a big no from the man-but-without-a-dick. He wasn’t keen on the slight chance of showing his privates, even if they did not belong to him.
The panties were just a tease since Cait had unused pairs ready to give out. They were presents from her mother, who anguished over the daughter’s obsession with frisky undergarments, hoping one day that her once quiet and chaste girl would resurface again. The reemergence of a teen Cait had a long way to go as, at present, the herbalist began to grope Lacie’s tit.
“There is nothing in here that would contain those udders.” Peter squirmed out of the touch, too intensive for his liking. His nipples were more sensitive now, but most of the feeling came out of sheer suddenness and strength. The novel sensation stirred something inside of him, stretching the imagination to the new possibilities given by the feminine body. He scared away from them for now. It was all too sudden and bizarre to his liking. But if he were to stay in the body for a bit longer, he might…
After clothes picking, Cait has prepared a hot copper tub for him to wash the sweat off. Peter has rejected her offer to wash his back, explaining that it’s still midday and people are probably waiting for her treatments. She complied, puffing her cheeks in a way that suggested she would get her skinship yet. For now, the offworlder just wanted to get an hour of peace and quiet for himself. Or herself, he couldn’t decide. He had all his memories of the past life and, as he believed, they were what made him: Peter, a guy from the UK.
Yet, he was afraid to reveal the fact to Cait. Would she be as helpful if he spilt all of this on her? The matter put a lot of doubt in his mind, and by the end, he came to believe that if he were to tell her, she would at best think him mad. That his head cracked on the floor before he passed out. What’s worse, she could be right, he might have been Lacie in truth, but amnesia made a mess of her head. He shook his head and pushed the possibility to the side. No point in piling an existential crisis on top of his troubles. His name was Peter Steward. Lacie was who he pretended to be for the time being.
Lost in thought, Peter came to the present to find himself in a bathtub, already scrubbed his body clean. The heat of the steaming water made the experience relaxing. It almost made him put all issues aside, pulling him closer to heaven with each passing minute. He realised that the pull was also physical as he found himself nearly submerged without realising it.
The topic lurking in his newly possessed brain did the opposite of drowning: it resurfaced at the mention of pleasure. The curiosity over how would it feel different from masturbating with the previously familiar tool drew him in. Curled up, he grasped for his large breasts, which now were free of constraint, floating in clear bathwater. His grip was strong at first but soon weakened to a slow caress. He tried to remember his past fantasies: how he would get the girl next door fucking against her house’s window. How she would moan like a bitch in heat, begging to be impaled on his cock, just to be obliged and more. Their fuck would turn to a bout of passionate pumping, so hard the girl would scrub the glass pane clean with her body. As she was out of it, her hips gladly did all the work on her part. And at the peak, he would come, breeding the whore, his cum slipping out of her in slow dribble.
Even when he touched his pussy, he couldn’t attain the familiar pleasure. Something was missing in the experience, he felt. The water grew cold after a while, and the previous anxieties caught up back to him, at which moment, he couldn’t even concentrate on a single erotic image. Dispirited, Peter then got outside of the tub and dried himself on a white towel. He was let down by the failure.
In contrast, something in him counted that as a win. Not being able to orgasm in the new body made him feel that he didn’t submit to his life as a woman. After all, if he was too eager to accept the new life, it might be he instead, who was railed against the wall, shagging random dude. He tensed at the notion. For what exact reason, he was too afraid to find out.
—
The serene days in the village passed with ease as its inhabitants busied themselves with their daily tasks and businesses. As Peter got to know some of them, he soon found out that the place, once a tutorial area, was clear of players. In fact, he was the only adventurer that came to the remote settlement, and the only strangers that came to these parts were either peddlers or vagabonds. The locals sicced their hounds on the latter, yet Lacie was welcome. The monster-killing part of her craft pleased the rural folk.
Peter’s first fights with beasts in the woods started two days after he woke up. The initial encounters were limited to the slowest of their bunch, woodfowls, the species best described as an ostrich topped with a head of a kangaroo. Technically, they weren’t the game’s lowest-level creatures, but other animals either hunted in packs or deftly hid and ambushed in the leafy foliage. The birdlike hybrid was a constant menace that picked chicken eggs and toppled cows, and so the adventurer’s effort in eradicating them was genially met.
Swordfighting against them always turned more bloody and gory than Petar had the stomach for at first. After some time, he got used to it, yet it made him wish for the simple abstraction of combat mechanics. The simulated action was also less tiring than the real one, especially with bouncy jugs attached to his torso. The exercise with them was a struggle in and of itself. They jiggled whenever he would jump to slash, dodge or get smacked to the ground, like if they wanted to parrot the actions of the main body, reacting to any shock that wrecked Lacie.
The bother caused by them didn’t stop at acrobatics. The breasts attracted all the attention of men and a select few women from the locals. The biggest lecher of them all was Tom, the general merchant, who unfortunately was a person that Peter spoke the most often with. He bought off all cleaved monster trophies. On top of that, he was friends with Cait, often joining in the supper. The meals were evermore awkward since Peter always felt like a third wheel at the table, listening to the merchant and herbalist flirting. There was never a day in which Lacie would leave the dining room without a red flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.
Tom’s presence and attitude hit some cord that really irritated Peter. The merchant had a handsome face decorated with swept brown hair and dark red eyes. The housewives and girls around all but wooed the man, perpetually looking at him with gleamy joy. And his patient, smiling answer was the infuriating thing of it all, which just embellished the flirts more. The wide smirk didn’t spare Lacie, making her sheepishly search for a way out.
The man also did his laundry outside, bare-chested, exposing lean body carefully shaped by toned muscles, glistening in the summer ardour. Each time he did this, he had made a whole spectacle, in which other male youths would join, also naked from belt up. Some of the men had interpreted the position of the belt to be lower than it was normal. Just high enough not to be improper. Not that the main attraction needed it to enchant the onlookers. He had enough in stock without resigning to risque displays.
By the third week, the offworlder couldn’t cross the village without feeling that unnerving itch near the man. It was looks, gasps, giggles and dallying that seemed to drive Lacie mad. The outsiders often laughed at her timid reactions to the healthy country vigour. So they goaded her with various favours just to get her as close to the big shot as possible. The expressions she wore had been worth any price.
On the 18th day of Peter’s stay, he had quite enough of all the stress piling inside. He decided that day to work hard to the point of exhaustion, too tired to even care about stress, and enough to instantly fall to the tranquil lull of the long, restful sleep.
The thorn in the plan was Tom’s usual supper visit, which unnerved the adventurer again, but after the meal finished and the chatting quieted down, he excused himself to his room, giving the tiredness as a reason. His bedroom was next to Cait’s own, with the walls thin enough to hear the herbalist humming whilst brushing her long hair. The gaps in privacy aside, it was suitable accommodation for Peter that came with a bookcase as extra.
Next to the emptied mug of ale, the thick encyclopedia was put on the desk. The shadows outside were by now moulded whole to the darkness of the night. Peter had to turn a faint magical light to study the book. It took him a good hour, but he finally became tired and set his feminine body on the bed. To relax, he drew deep breaths, breathing in through the nose and letting air out of the full lips. The veil of exhaustion helped him, shielding him from worrying topics like the merchant. He lamented that his composure melted at his presence, the thing that wasn’t previously a problem in the original world. Peter never thought he could dislike someone that much. At least, he thought that was a dislike he was feeling; it was hard to tell through the new heart.
The blanket covered his topless body, the rosebud of which had white panties as an additional layer of protection. When he finally felt warm and comfortable enough, he heard the rustles and voices from the next room. He tried to ignore the sounds, but when he listened to a male tone, he couldn’t do anything but tune to it.
“I’m sure she is sound asleep now. No need for all the hushes.” said Tom.
“But she will wake up when she- Mwooogh.” Cait stopped midsentence as her mouth was roughly occupied with something soft enough to induce a slosh. Then it was silent for a time before popping broke the kiss, after which Cait’s moaning followed. Lacie’s heart started a race on the realisation of what was happening behind the wall. That was an end to the peaceful sleep, Peter thought. It was impossible to ignore it; they were way too noisy. The faint idea of the hole in the wall winked at him.
“A-ah, don’t go down there yet. We have a whole night ahead of us.” said Cait, after which their bed creaked, and its covering swished in the air. “You are my now, pretty boy.”
It wasn’t too long after that Lacie kneeled to engage in wide-eyed voyeurism. She held her breath at the sight of Cait pulling the bottom off her ample butt, still straddling the man. Tom wasn’t satisfied with being the bottom and closed his lover by the waist to entwine his tongue with hers. They weren’t naked yet, but their bodies already moved unaware, slowly humping in a desperate attempt to peel the remaining clothes and engage fully in their steamy lust.
The familiar and strange feeling came to Peter as he watched. It enveloped him whole, forcing the body to heat up like glowing cinders of a campfire, not scorching, but drawing him in. The swirling sensation led his hand through the valley of Lacie’s breasts, slipping on the firm stomach just to stop at the sole fabric on her. It was wet, it was burning, it was needing.
The frustration peaked again. Something was lacking. A puzzle was still missing the last piece, readying itself for the final insertion to make it whole. The shy fingers tried to brush panties, now soaked and see-through, against the length of the slit. Down and up at first, then they circled around, pulling the whole crotch with them. The other hand helped the connected knees to steady the kneel while the head stared intensely through the hole.
Peter, at the moment, suffered shame, was prickled with anxiety and stiffed with fear. But the compulsion that drove him to the bottom of a thin wall now coordinated his soft feminine panting and slowly bent and pierced all mental barriers he had. One final block remained unyielding to the onslaught, a mystery that served as a gilded lock to his inhibitions.
That lock shuddered when the inevitable came. Tom finally got on top, exploiting the daze in which Cait was in. She put a token of reaction by wrapping her calves around her stud’s bare waist. The position she was in aligned herself with her want for the next to come. Tom pulled his bottom half of clothing in one motion, springing his thick cock free and spluttering pent up precum forward. The time froze to burn the image in Peter’s eyes. He had a sideways view of them both. Long ago, he would rather focus on Cait’s open legs or watch her quaking breasts. Now he put all his attention on the man. His sharp, handsome face, the strong grip, luscious butt. His throbbing schlong.
The sight of the last reminded his past frustrations. They were now put in context, as when the merchant would smile at the other women, it was a desire to embrace him, claim him alone, that scratched his arching back in desperation. The knots unravelled as Lacie dove her hand beneath the panties, seeking the relief of primal urges. The fingers in instinctive inspiration knew where to go, even if Peter did not. They carefully got slick with girlcum first. Second, they inspected the hood at the top, gently committing to the memory all its crevices.
There were no further steps, only slow and rhythmic caressing of the needy clit. It, too, throbbed and swell, long omitted and abandoned. The destination met, Lacie laid on the side, leaving her other hand to fondle the painfully hard teats. She had to twist her body and neck to get the rest of the screening. The internal struggle blinded her attention to the pair of lovers. And what she witnessed, when she returned to look, put her in shock yet again. Cait’s drooling quim was now in front of her. Her legs were spread apart. Lacie closely observed and followed, spreading her own, expecting a mate to come and take her. The woman on the bed didn’t have to wait as the shaft soon spread the red lips and gradually engulfed itself inside of her. Cait wasn’t the only one who moaned enthusiastically at the act.
When the passion transformed to a bestial fuck, Peter wasn’t even paying attention. He now was mopped with the thrusting of Tom’s dick, shoving at his virgin cunt. The reality was gone, the voice from his throat escaped unstopped, and his limbs freed themselves from the restraint of a conscious mind. The warmth was the whole world. The pleasure was finally peaking.
The shudders and squirming came suddenly without any prior indication. The orgasm forced Lacie to slide to the side, curled up, one hand fiercely squashed with her thighs and the other stifling high pitched cries coming out of her mouth. She lied like this for a blissfully eternal moment, trembling with each squeaking quiver. When it was over, the waves of ecstasy still bounced all inside her body, leaving her a joyously teared up mess on the ground. She felt peace at long last, weariness of last weeks washed away in one sweep. The pair continued their love-making, but the sounds slowly faded in a distant echo. The floor made now as good a place to rest as would the most comfortable bed. No one blamed her for falling asleep at this very moment. Lacie passed out.
—
On the floor of a simple apartment situated in a small English town, a man was unconsciously lying on the floor with his VR headset on. His visible mouth formed a dumb, open smile, letting small drips of saliva run down his cheeks. It wasn’t visible from his shorts, but his boxers were now wet with cum drained religiously from his tensed balls. His dick was still stiff after the heaviest climax of its life, not letting go of the torrent of blood that fueled the fire raging in his loins. The hips matched as they still shook a whole minute after the finish, spreading raised knees apart. Even the toes joined, clasping with full oscillating force.
The position the man found himself in wasn’t masculine, but it was one that he enjoyed at the precious moment. The strange visitors that broke into his house watched closely.