Chapter Text
Humming refrigerators. A jubilant notification that sounded out each time a door was opened or closed. Occasional footsteps whose weight and cadence identified their owners without the need for so much as a glance at them.
At some point or another, these things ceased to be nuisances for Ann. To say that they had ever been truly bothersome for her was petulant, but in the initial weeks and months of her employment, their saturation of her eardrums had complicated her work where it ought’ve simplified it. Now, though, their presence was effectively white noise to her. An indistinct additive that made her workplace her workplace.
Why her perception had changed was a question that only she could answer. Natural acclimation played its part; to dwell on the soul-crushing nature of her career prospects was to commit herself to decades of discontent and longing.
It was more than this, though. Whereas the first two months of her employment seemed to come and go in the blink of an eye, the last 4 were slowed by her mind so that she might savor them to the fullest. In them, the fringes of a prolonged summer bled into the beginnings of winter. Customer volume remained more or less the same (as could be expected of community convenience stores), and the tasks she attended to on a daily basis maintained their monotonous complexion. All of it should’ve blended together into the same nothingness that defined the start of her new ‘career’.
And yet, nearly every other day of it had been memorable–
The girlish anticipation that she faced them with ensured it.
*Pin-pon-pin-pon-pin-pon…*
Nothing this time. Just another customer.
On Wednesday afternoons, the sound of the door opening and closing at the front of the store elicited a Pavlovian response from Ann. It was not so unbecoming as to draw attention to her; a simple glance up towards the entranceway and the projection of a smile across her lips. Nothing that could be misconstrued as anything other than congenial customer service.
Her reaction was mechanical, though. Every single time the door swung open, so too did her withered eyes jump up towards it. It did not matter that what she was looking for scarcely appeared from behind the door. It would eventually, so she continued. With all of the diligence that she had displayed as a corporate slave within the city of her dreams, she turned her gaze up towards the entrance.
Every single time.
*Pin-pon-pin-pon-pin-pon…*
There. A few minutes late, as expected. Cold weather made for slower movement all around–more so for a youth bundled up in winter clothing a size or so too large for him. Ann knew that she should have tempered her expectations in accordance with this, but her innards denied her the opportunity.
They had gone without reignition for far too long.
“Konnichiwa, Inari-chan. Mata Okaa-san wo tetsudai shimasu ka?”
“Good afternoon, Inari. Running another errand for your mom?” Ann subverted her excitement with a greeting no different from any of the others she produced. She supplemented it with a congenial wave, and the slightest slant of her front over the counter so that it would face the door.
She knew who had entered without even seeing him.
“Goodness. It’s only just after 5. You must’ve just finished with your club activities, right?”
“Erai na ♥. How mature ♥. I’m sure she must be very happy to have you around to help when your dad is away.”
Although these words were chosen with the status quo between them in mind, Ann swathed each of them with a warmth scarcely shared between those in customer service and their customers. In her mind, there was no harm in doing so; the boy that she had addressed meant more to her than one of the countless ‘frequent customers’ who visited the store on a daily basis.
A show of awareness on his part was not enough for her–
She needed him to feel that this was the case each and every time that they interacted with one another.
“Huuuu. Huuuu…”
One steamy breath at a time, the coat-clad youth blew hot air against his limbs to warm them.
When feeling returned to them, he dropped his hands back down to his side and did his best to laugh off the compliments he had received before heated embarrassment consumed his face.
He, too, regarded his trips to the local convenience store as special. Countless text messages from his mother had driven him to the same store countless times in the past, but it was only a few months prior that the monotony of it all had been replaced with anticipation.
Unlike Ann, though, his capacity for hiding this anticipation was every bit as immature as the youthful slant of his face.
“Aha…it’s not that big of a deal, She just told me to just grab some stuff for dinner again. Bukatsu…well, I don’t do anything that hard for club, remember? It’s just sitting around and reading and writing stuff,”
“You’ve probably been working harder than that all day, right?”
Inari’s action betrayed his words. Instead of a quick cut through the confines of the store to collect what he had been asked to buy, he made his way straight up to the front counter and stood opposite it to face Ann. Near parity with her height, the sweater-smothered scent of her frame and the appeal of her features rooted him in place for far longer than was natural.
Ann expected this, and exacerbated it.
“Iie, betsu ni. It’s easy to manage the store when I know what everyone is probably looking for. I think I’ve done more waiting around today than usual, but that’s beside the point,”
Endearing a fault, Ann set her hands onto her hips and pouted for a moment before loosening her lips into a smile.
“Where’s my text message, though? If I knew you’d be coming, I could’ve collected everything before you got here,” She continued. “Do girlfriends not get afternoon text messages anymore? Am I really that old and out of touch?”
Inari was not yet old enough–or perhaps not yet mature enough– to recognize that he was being teased. He had seen Ann feign anger about things several things before, but his disposition was such that he took each and every one of these displays far more seriously than was necessary.
The latest widened his eyes with a degree of shock and finished the warming of his cheeks with an embarrassed flush.
These were the only displays of weakness he allowed himself, however. The rules with ‘girlfriends’ had not changed–his experiences at school had taught him this much and more.
If anyone in his life deserved proper treatment, it was Ann.
“W-Well, you were working, right? Bothering you with something like that wouldn’t be fair,” He replied, nervously. “Besides, I can take care of stuff like that just fine. I know I should message you more, but when I do, it should be just to talk, or for things that are…I dunno. ‘Nice things’ that girls like to talk about,”
“That way, you’ll actually look forward to it, right?”
Albeit briefly, Inari’s babbling sent a twinge of regret rippling through Ann’s stomach. Teasing him into a response along these lines had been her aim; subjecting him to genuine stress was not.
As it happened, though, alleviating stress that built up inside the youth was her forte. One at a time, she dropped her hands away from her hips and loosened her pout into a smiley giggle.
“Ahaha♥. You’re so cute when you get worried. I suppose I should’ve known better than to tease you like that,” She exhaled. “I’m not upset, Inari. I don’t want you to think that it’s some kind of bother, though. I always enjoy talking to you whether it’s like this or through our phones. If that puts me into a position where I can help you with something small, even better– ”
“You help me without thinking about it all the time, so I want to try and do the same for you.”
Inari’s anxiety was diffused as quickly as it had been ignited. Suddenly made aware of the fact that all was well, his shoulders lost their tightness, and his neck was drawn into a subtle nod of agreement without his realizing it.
It was always like this with Ann. A constant flurry of cloying emotion and relief that he couldn’t help but invest himself into.
“That’s right, you do. So I’ll be a good girlfriend and do the same.” Ann continued. “I’m almost done for the day, though. Do you want to grab what you need so we can leave together?”
Another nod from the youth heralded the return of the status quo. As he had countless times before, he calmly made his way from one end of the small store to the next in search of the items that he needed to purchase. Them in hand, he made his return to the front counter–this time with pleasant anticipation spread across his face.
Pleasant memories pertaining to the countless other times he had made purchases from the store before leaving with her scattered his focus when it should’ve been focused solely on the woman ahead of him.
With it, what lay in wait for him may have caught his eye.
“Whew, ok. That should be everything unless she suddenly texts me for something else. I could’ve sworn we had some of this stuff at home, too…”
As he declared his return, he neatly set out the items he had collected on the counter for Ann to scan.
Per usual, her hands attended to the task by reflex while her attentions remained set on him.
“I’m sure she has her reasons. Running a household is trickier than it looks–not that I would know,” Ann hummed. “I think you forgot something though…”
Inari was inexperienced, not stupid. Ann’s words struck him as non-sensical right away. There was no way for her to know what his mother had texted him for, and therefore no way for her to know what was missing if he had forgotten something.
The facts of the matter didn’t care about what was reasonable, though. Just as he recognized that he was being teased again, Ann moved her right arm just subtly enough to peel his gaze off of her face and down to the countertop that separated them.
She had added something to the groceries he had collected. A pink box whose contents were sometimes scattered across her bedroom as grotesque sacs of sludge.
“We can’t leave without these , now can we? What’s in there won’t help your mom much with dinner, but she’d want you to have them just in case of an emergency, wouldn’t she?”
Albeit barely, Inari remained lucid. Ann’s meaning was not lost on him, but he did not succumb to it.
At least not immediately.
“...I guess. T-There’s no emergency right now, though. I-I can get more later” He replied.
“There isn’t? Are you sure?” Ann retorted sweetly, but she did not drop the pressure she had initiated.
“Okashii ne. That’s so strange. And here I thought there was a good chance that something might happen tonight,”
“Like…” Inari stammered.
“Like what?”
Nothing had forced Inari to continue Ann’s line of conversation. Ending it would have been as simple as feigning ignorance of her meaning. His indulging her was entirely volition…
Perhaps this was why it was repaid with a volition envelopment of his neck by Ann’s arms.
“The emergency where Inari doesn’t go home for dinner right away and bruises his hips spewing babyjuice into his girlfriend while she drinks spit out of his throat .”
“That sounds plenty dangerous, doesn’t it ♥ ?”
That these words were whispered into his right ear through the only pair of lips that he had kissed intimately extracted a toll from Inari that his young mind could only barely afford to pay.
What remained of his mental resources after the fact were only capable of degeneracy–
In that moment, all he could think about was the possibility of creating another, far more volatile emergency all on his own.
-
PERSONAL WANTS
Even by their lofty standards, the ‘emergency’ that Inari and Ann embroiled themselves in was about as perverse as it possibly could have been.
It did not start this way. A seemingly middle-school-aged boy walking hand in hand with a visibly older woman was hardly an abnormal sight for a small town at dusk. The grocery bags shared between them offered subterfuge for their decision to hold hands, and the banal conversation that they engaged in presented them as friendly neighbors to anyone who might’ve raised an eyebrow at their procession.
Where it became disgusting was in the minutes that followed its trigger. Inside the heated confines of Ann’s apartment, Inari was tasked with notifying his family that he would be late getting home.
With Ann quite literally standing over his shoulder as he typed–at a distance that impressed the sloping bloat of her sweater-enveloped breasts into his back–the quality of his excuse suffered by a factor of his arousal.
Severely, if one were to assess things lightly.
–got the groceries. Masato wanted to go over stuff for school and I forgot I promised him.
–Back before dinneittt….@
Were it not for the trailing typos and symbols at its end, his excuse may well have passed. In towns such as this, boys hanging out with one another after school for one reason was common enough to ignore as a form of leisure. Beyond this, Inari’s age as a middle school student had granted him a certain amount of independence buoyed by the general safety of the town.
Hours after its receipt on a night during winter, these typos would inspire a parent denied confirmation of their child’s safety to wonder about something.
About the sort of things that might distress their progeny into so many mistakes and the alluring forms that this something might take.
“Mata…”
“Mata deru mata deru mata deru.! Obaa-chan no naki ni!”
“Z-Zhenbu suitotte k-kudasai..!”
For perhaps the 5th or 6th time in the space of only a handful of hours, heavy words from the back of Inari’s throat were breathed out into the moisture-choked air of Ann’s bedroom. Audibly, but at a volume destined to be subverted by sweat-glazed flesh and the deafening *PPAPP-PLRPP-PAPP-PLRPP* produced as one sex-sodden crotch was beaten in and out of contact with the succulent, hormone-fattened pudge of another.
How low it was did not stop Ann from hearing it. As the words were breathed out against a fresh indentation of bite marks across the right side of her neck, the tantalizing flutter of wet breath against the throb of her neck left her hyper-sensitive to the words that it carried.
Volume was not her only obstacle in this, of course. To this point, the gutting stabs of condom-gloved phallus flesh against her cervix and the button’s starved slurp against the flesh helmet that it so adored had fuzzied her brain with mating instincts capable of reducing a lesser woman to a squirting mess. For as deeply as she desired this, she desired something else even more.
To ascertain what, one needed only look at the arm she had snaked around to the back of his head and the thin “U” shaped smile stamped to the base of her perspiration-drenched profile–
This, or the fact that she had allowed one of the few good sweaters she wore to work to become soaked in the stench of a hormonal teenager.
“Ii yo ♥. Oba-chan ga suitorimasu ♥.”
“That’s ok ♥. I’ll drain it all out just like the last one ♥.” She exhaled. “You’ve gone and made my brain all fuzzy though, you know…”
Providing soft assurance and nothing else was not in Ann’s nature. Excuses through which she might have settled for less had all but consumed her. Yet, no matter the debilitated drool of mucus from her right nostril; the churning of her innards by youthful cockflesh; no matter the obstacles that she faced, she remained more or less the same person who had spoken to her suitor while he browsed for magazines.
Without being told to, she tightened her embrace of the back of his neck and pulled her glossed legs from out of their ‘useless’ flattening underneath Inari’s aggression. Of her own volition–or perhaps in response to the squirming instincts that had invaded her uterus–she snapped both limbs into a firm lock just below his waistline and pulled his frame into her own.
Then came more of the pouty complaining that affected his ears so.
“What if I weren’t as much of a pervert as you, hm? Would you find another old lady to help you spew out all your babyjuice?”
“Or am I the only one that’ll do?”
It was her fifth attempt at instigating the youth this way. The 4 tied-off condoms strewn out across the mattress space surrounding their coupling suggested otherwise, but two of these had been filled in an entirely different manner.
Whatever the case, her third attempt reaped a third success–
Try as he might to remain ‘reasonable’, a surge of pressure at Inari’s crotch and an abrupt drainage of blood out of his brain pulled his lips apart and stabbed his maw straight back into Ann’s neck.
Haphazard, and yet somehow timed to the same moment that he slammed his crotch through to its final, syrup-buffered impression into Ann’s.
*SPLRRRR~OOORRRBPPP*
Straight behind the final squelching *CLOP* wrought from his shaft’s nuzzling through the meat of her inner walls came low, gurgled noises akin to a geyser’s eruption within a buoyant crevice. No less bloated or pressure-backed than any of the loads that had preceded it–a worrisome thought if one were less invested in the realm of the obscene–the first outflow of semen up and out of his length offered more in common with a deluge than the fleeting ropiness of an orgasm.
Truth be told, the substance itself demanded it. Despite offering a relatively healthy white coloration, the make of his seed was firmly slotted between loosened dough and a lumpy, mire-infused jelly. Shortly, its propensity for flowing and smearing was backed by an indomitable weight that suggested weeks of sexual abstinence–this in spite of the fact that Inari had spewed out a substance just like it several times already.
Where this sludge (and the swimmers that it contained) was blasted augmented its texture as well. With the nose of his length pressed right up against the starved exterior of Ann’s cervix, the contents of his first rope were consumed in the creation of an oblong balloon of seed that just so happened to be flattened against it. For every double-wide thread fed into it beyond this point, the oblong engorgement of the condom was swelled further and further outward until Ann’s inner walls were at last enlisted in containing it.
Ann had played the part of ‘receptacle’ for these events several times over the course of a paltry pair of hours. Each instance consumed her uterus with a fresh wave of longing contractions which on occasion inspired a myriad of pulsing milking ministrations within her folds meant to ensure that every drop of Inari’s seed was siphoned out inside of her.
Pleasure notwithstanding, her latest bout with the sensation was actually more infuriating to her than anything else. As both the weight and texture of Inari’s seed was conveyed to her inner walls and cervix through the material of the condom, her reproductive organs were perfectly happy to assume that their chance for impregnation had come at long last.
The trouble was that there was no payoff. No progressive, gut-warming engorgement for her uterus wrought from her cervix’s slurping efforts, and no ova discharge from the hormone-swollen ovaries desperate to serve their intended purpose.
All in the name of ‘safety’ and ‘proper precautions’.
At one point, Ann was amenable to these things. She was already engaging in a relationship that most (if not all) within her community were likely to revile her for. Actively encouraging the possibility of it producing a child was a step too far, no matter how her instincts might’ve yearned for her to do otherwise.
Of late, though, she had softened to the idea. Inari had proved himself to be a stable sort of partner, but the fact remained that he was a student in middle school. A student ineligible for employment for years to come, and one woefully far removed from the standards set for the average Japanese man by the average Japanese woman. There was no reason for her opinion to have shifted–there was no validation for it either.
But it had–
Hence her decision to place a half-emptied and carefully resealed box of condoms on the same counter where Inari’s groceries had.
“...Gamen dekinai. I keep telling myself that I’ll be able to handle it, but I really can’t anymore. If I have to feel one more mushy bulb of his cum push up against my womb, I’m going to go insane. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve cum just from this. Please let that be the last one…”
“Let it be the last one so I can eat him already...”
Complaining to herself like this was the only thing that she could do to ride out the beginning of Inari’s release with any sort of dignity. Had she refrained, the shotgun blast of cockjuice that had initiated his release and the subsequent engorgement of her canal’s backend with a squirming sac of sludge would have driven her to claw into Inari’s back and coax even more ‘questionable’ behavior out of him.
If one were to consider how he had commemorated the beginning of his release, she was owed this much catharsis and more.
“AAAAHHH!! DERU DERU DERU!! OBA-CHAN NO NAKI NI DERU!! CUMMINGCUMMINGCUMMING. I CAN’T STOP CUMMING INSIDE YOU!!”
“KONKAI ZENBU! ZENBU BUCHIKONDEYARU! T-THIS TIME I’LL DUMP IT ALL OUT. I’LL PRETEND I’M CLOGGING OBA-CHAN PROPERLY!”
Hearing a male more than a decade her junior, probably, reduced to a state of bestial desperation was more than just flattering for Ann. Such was the current state of her mind that the fact that her body was able to overcome the mildness that defined Inari almost meant more to her than the fact that she was pushing him to expel every morsel of adolescent genetic material he had to offer inside of her.
It was meant for a girl at his middle school. Or maybe a curious high school student. Someone capable of matching his awkwardness and desire with unbridled emotions of her own.
It was hers, though. Hers to gorge herself on however she wished.
Hers to produce a child with.
“M-Muri shinai de. It’s ok. You don’t have to force yourself to do any more than this. If we have to do it again, then we’ll do it again. If you like fake-mating with my used-up onahole pussy so much, why would I feel bad if you needed to do it again?”
Once again, her position enveloping Inari’s frame provided her words with an otherworldly weight. Not only did it provide her with the ability to deliver them directly against his ear, but it also facilitated timed contractions of her inner walls throughout.
Torturous efficiency steeped in undeniable affection.
“It’s really nice for me too, Inari. I’m a little upset that you let yourself get so congested again, but being able to help you get rid of so much of your boyjuice makes me feel special. It’s the way a girl should feel when she’s with the boy she loves. Even if she ends up making a really unsightly mess of herself,” She continued.
“That means you could do it all night if you needed to. And if you did, I’d still be happy–”
“‘Cause then, I’d know it was because you loved me so much that you couldn’t help it ♥.”
From a handful of sentences swathed with affection came several additional seconds of orgasm for Inari. These did not include the expulsion of additional seed from his length–much to the chagrin of his innards. In place of this pleasure, he enjoyed something far more potent: the debilitating sensation of belonging that had attached him to Ann in the first place.
All thoughts of where he was and what he was doing were thrown out so that he might better indulge himself in the sensation. Minutes passed precisely like this, but neither the silence within the bedroom nor Ann’s persistent stroke at the back of his head could convince him to move.
In the end, an ebbing of the narcotic bliss that had consumed him was required for him to reassume his responsibilities as an actor. Without it to numb him, his concerns about Ann perceiving him as too much of a child once again wormed their way into the forefront of his mind, and thereafter motivated him to peel his sweat-drenched from off of her front for the umpteenth time.
Necessarily, this coincided with a sluggy extraction of the semen-wadded condom he had created inside her out of her depths. Though Inari did not think much of it throughout his retreat (this due to the haze of stupidity that lingered within his brain and the persistence of his erection), Ann’s eyes were drawn into a blissful flutter for every inch that the balmy sac climbed through her canal.
By the time a syrup-sodden *SCHLRP~!* signaled the sac’s escape from her folds, Ann was briefly reduced to the same state she had left Inari in.
Lungs wrung of oxygen and frames drenched in sweat, the two of them lay in silence with only the sound of their breathing as a form of communication. Strewn out to either side of them were the condoms that Inari had swelled thus far and pockets of mattress space soaked or streaked with some combination of sweat or feminine lubrication. Gaudy sights made gaudier by sex-starved frames that served as their centerpieces.
Per the norms between them, Ann was the first to overcome her debilitation. After settling her breathing, a sense of responsibility that toed the line between feminine affection and matronly responsibility pulled her up into a seated position. Upright, she shamelessly pushed her right hand over toward Inari’s crotch and took hold of his still-erect shaft at its root. Dutiful to a fault, she provided a handful of short, ‘encouraging’ pumps along the drunk to motivate the remainder of his orgasm out of his length before sliding her grasp up into contact with the mouth of the condom he had donned.
Few could have imagined a woman as mild as her having the dexterity required to remove an over-bloated condom with a single hand. Nevertheless, she managed this (and a deft tying off of the condom itself) with her attention split between the task and the young man whose sake she had acted for.
While she worked, she also spoke.
“...Uwah. I knew that it was a lot when it was inside me, but it’s still more than I expected.” She exhaled. “It’s so heavy and mucky, too. It’s a wonder you don’t feel uncomfortable having so much of it inside of you..”
Mid-musing, her effort to seal the condom’s mouth with a knot required she rest the bloated contraceptive’s payload in her palm.
Feeling the squirming sludge against her skin jolted her for a moment–really, it was a miracle that she didn’t succumb to another orgasm then and there. Nevertheless, she continued with her address as though she hadn’t felt a thing.
“You don’t, right? If you do, we should meet more often to deal with it. It can’t be healthy for you to just deal with it. Especially when I’m so close by.”
Freshly moved from a few minutes spent with his forearm pressed against his eyes, the concern in Ann’s voice pulled Inari into a wobbly ascent of his own. Ordinarily, the subject that she had broached in combination with the sensation of her peeling a condom off of his length would have rendered him one of too bashful or lustful to answer her correctly.
Here, the fleeting satisfaction of his libido was indispensable.
“I’m…fine. It’s not really uncomfortable. Not the kind of uncomfortable I can’t deal with, anyway” He replied. “Besides, it always gets way better whenever I can visit like this, so we don’t have to worry about changing anything, I guess.”
Inari did not know how best to phrase his thoughts in the moment. He stumbled through his best attempt at it; one needed only look at his avoidant mussing with the back of his head to recognize this.
In his uncertainty was an opportunity for Ann. Whatever her suitor's thoughts on his internal state, the fact remained that his length remained no less erect for the fact that he had spewed an obese tennis ball’s worth of lumpy semen into the condom she cradled within her palm. This meant that, regardless of what his mind may have rationalized, his body still desired her. Not at some far-off point in the future, but in the present.
Desire of this sort was a girlfriend’s responsibility to manage whether doing so was to her benefit or detriment.
“If you’re sure. I’m trusting that you’ll tell me if anything changes, so don’t keep it all bottled up if it does, understand?” She continued. “I might be old, but I’ll never be so old that I can’t look after you the way that a partner should. So,”
Pivoting from a heartfelt admission to perversion was not a skill that just anyone could master. Somehow, though, Ann went from discarding the used condom within her palm to pawing at the root of Inari’s length without missing a beat.
Like this began a descent into degeneracy that she would neither lead nor assent to…
Openly, at least.
“Do you want to go again? Your Mom hasn’t messaged you again since the first time, right?” Ann suggested, sweetly. “I work in the evening tomorrow, so don’t worry about me. We still have some time before it gets too late, so I want to make sure you’re feeling better before you leave.”
“I know, I know–you’re not a baby. We don’t have to, so it’s really up to you.”
“I won’t disagree either way ♥.”
What Ann had done was not immediately obvious to Inari. So far as he was concerned, she had left the final decision as to the ‘route’ that the rest of their evening would take up to him. She hadn’t subtly influenced him toward making one choice or another, nor had she played upon the nature of their relationship to ensure that only one option stood out within his head.
The reality of the situation was far more complex. In their months together, Ann had come to know exactly how obscene his libido could become when left unchecked. In practice, its intensity was such that she never needed to cajole him into making use of her body when they were together. Via simple ‘re-presentations’ of her frame, his hormones would do this for her.
More potent than this was her ability to offer the illusion of control. Each and every time the two of them ended up retreating into the confines of her apartment, she left the first step of their coupling to Inari. For her piece, she created environments– ‘circumstances’ where following through with his worst desires would seem preferable to him. She even presented herself as the worst kind of pervert possible. No worse than she was at her core, but ‘worse’ as accented by a blatant, endearing quality that made her seem as though she needed someone to care for her.
Had she somehow managed to develop these skills two decades prior, the path that her life had taken would have been very different–
Proof as much could be found in the dilation of Inari’s pupils and his reflexive pawing for the box of condoms that had facilitated proceedings thus far.
“U-Un! Yaritai! Yeah, I do! I-I mean…”
A brain rotted by sexual satiation was not an excuse for Inari to forget decency. Perversions notwithstanding, he had always prided himself on presenting a semblance of decency in his interactions with Ann. This in mind, he reset himself with an exhalation the moment his hand found the box that he was looking for.
That the subsequent ‘respite’ he enjoyed would be his last taste of it for over an hour was not a possibility he stopped to consider.
“That makes sense, Ann. Let’s make the most of it. You don’t have to do anything this time, either. I’ll take care of everything–”
Fingertips nuzzled through the top of the box touched its bottom without brushing against anything. A frantic wiggling of the digits revealed nothing but emptiness around them as well.
In an instant, his boyish excitement was deflated into moderation.
Just as Ann had hoped it would be.
“Ahhh….”
“Ah haha. Or not. I guess we used them all,” He chuckled, dryly. “That’s my fault; I should’ve been keeping track. It’s weird, though. I thought this brand had more of them per package…”
Genuine dismay burst across Ann’s face at these words. When it finished consuming her profile, her left palm jumped up to a slanted cradling of the left side of her face whilst her gaze was turned down towards the moistened state of her lap.
An award-winning performance if ever there was one.
“Aa, zanen desu ne. Oh, that’s too bad. Did I grab the wrong box at the store? I’m so forgetful sometimes.” She sighed to herself. “I should’ve known we’d need more. This was a perfectly good opportunity to do things properly, too…”
There was no ‘tell’ that alluded to the shift in her mood. At some point, the disappointment and worry on her face was simply consumed by a calm narrowing of her eyes and the envelopment of her features with endearing warmth.
“Maybe we can make the best of this, though. I’ve…well, I know I’m the one that’s always said that we need to do things the safe way. It’s better that way for both of us. And much less to think about too,”
“But,”
As though the words she wished to say were not something that she could have screamed at the top of her lungs if asked to, Ann tipped her frame to her right and cupped a hand to Inari’s ear.
Set, she took to whispering as a rosy flush spread across her cheeks.
“ If you promise to be careful , we can stop using them from now on. Normal couples find ways to do it like that, so why shouldn’t we? ”
There it was. No sensible woman capable of pregnancy would leave a matter such as this to the whims of an adolescent’s libido. And yet, when Ann retreated back to Inari’s side and presented a closed-eyed profile bright red with lust, this was precisely the message that she appeared to be sending.
She trusted Inari.
Trusted that he would fail in the most spectacular manner possible.
“I can do it! If you’re trusting me, I’ll be careful!” These words were half Inari’s and half something else entirely.
Still, he was the one who uttered them.
“Nara…”
In commemoration of his confidence, Ann produced confidence of her own, Slipping ahead of Inari’s seated position, she briefly posted herself directly opposite him before laying back onto the mattress space behind her. On it, she hiked both of her legs up to create an alluring ‘M’ shape alongside the perspiration-greased span of her hips and crotch.
But she didn’t stop. In a display of flexibility that women her age traditionally struggled with, she unfurled both of her legs and used her hands to pull the undersides of her thighs downward. In the blink of an eye, her ankles were slanted into arcs just above her ears, and the entirety of her lower body was plated ahead of Inari like a pretzel.
Even here, she lost none of her charm. If assessed fairly, one could even argue that she had gained it.
“Oide. Kapuru no you ni Koubi shiyo ♥.”
“C’mere. Let’s finally feel each other the way a real couple should ♥.”
Once again, clues with which to suss out Ann's true intentions were sprinkled amidst the words that she chose. Had Inari ears for them, the danger that her proposal carried may well have outweighed the pleasure that was bound to accompany it.
But his ears were only for Ann. Not for assessing her or dissecting her, but for making the most of every second that he spent with her.
Where her proposal was concerned, there was only one way for him to see about this. The moment her utterance finished seeping into his gray matter, a disquieting influx of blood into his crotch and reproductive instinct at the core of his psyche framed her position atop the mattress as a meal to be devoured as shamelessly and messily as possible.
As it happened, Inari had yet to eat dinner. Suddenly famished in spite of all of the ‘snacks’ he had enjoyed up until this point, he surged down toward her frame and took ownership of it. He found the splayed-out undersides of Ann’s newly exposed breasts with his palms and curled his fingers into greedy impressions against their bloat that engorged them further still. In time with this, he drove the tips of his toes down to firm impressions into the mattress space to either side of his hips.
These were actions that he produced all on his own. He recalled the motions that had led up to them and his decision to produce them in the first place.
Others were more instinctive. Just as he had learned to chew and swallow without being taught, his lower body effortlessly curled his groin out along an outward hook and leveled the protrusion of his drooling erection down to a shovel-angled point at the succulent, lightly-haired chub of the same cunt he had spent the preceding few hours gutting.
The flogging plunge he produced after the fact was the same. Without a moment’s consideration for the stimulation that would assault him as a result, his lower body hooked the full length of his shaft into an unrestricted descent into the welcoming confines of Ann’s folds. So was his glans engulfed within the syrup-choked vice were seconds of activity elongated into a small eternity. Before the audible *SQLRSHH~* of steeled flesh into slobbering innards could finish sounding out through the air, what felt like an oven of bulbous flesh and unyielding pressure threatened to pull a fresh load of semen up from Inari’s testicles on no less than three occasions.
Hilting himself offered neither respite, nor certainty in his ability to resist this sensation long enough to properly satisfy himself–
Only a tooth-chipping sense of regret for the countless condom-mitigated mating sessions he had shared with Ann up to this point.
“F–”
“Fuu-huaakkk. S-So much hotter. S-So much tighter. My dick feels like it’s melting. It feels like my insides are being liquefied by Obaa-chan’s pussy,” Whereas his mouth was reduced to an agape drooling abbreviated by the occasional stammer, finishing his first thrust ignited the core of his psyche with thoughts.”I said I would be careful, b-but can I really do it? I haven’t even started moving and it feels like I’ll die if I don’t crater her hagpussy properly. My brains’s gonna start bleeding if I don’t…”
His understanding of the position that he had placed himself in was comically accurate. Before he even finished thinking these words to himself, the first flog of his crotch was reeled back against the defiant suckling of Ann’s inner walls. They had always done their best to drain his length up until this point, but flesh-to-flesh contact with the vein-studded exterior of his erection had evoked something within her depths as well. He was not quite trapped inside of her, but every inch he managed to extract was extracted to her innards' displeasure. A variety that made it seem as though her lower lips were being sucked upwards alongside the retreat of his erection.
A sensible man would have taken these things as signage that he was outmatched. Not considering the sheet-soaking splatters of feminine syrup that he pulled out alongside his length (all of which came into some form of contact with his crotch or testicles), the amount of ‘tolerance’ required for him to safely bring himself to an orgasm in such a situation was simply too much for him as an adolescent.
The flip side to this assessment was one born of the inexhaustible hunger of youth. In defiance of the sensation and the tugging of Ann’s folds, Inari successfully peeled more than a third of his length back through her depths and even managed to slam these inches straight back down to a cunt-smothering hilt against her groin. Sensing an opportunity to build momentum, his frame took this cervix-spreading hilt and ran with it until a chain of steady, excavatory thrusts were squeezed through Ann’s folds one after another. Even his testicles were enlisted in the motions–if only in the form of splatter-backed wrecking ball impacts against Ann’s taint.
Inari’s recognition of the path that his frame had chosen belied a worrisome understanding of its most likely outcome.
And yet, he did nothing to stop it. With his time, he did little more than huff, drool, and ruminate as to what was to come:
A young man thoroughly enamored with the behaviors that his partner desired most.
“Yabai…”
“Yabaiyabaiyabai. This is so bad. I promised Ann, but I can’t stop. I can’t stop because it feels too good,”
“Why…”
“Why does she have to be so cute on top of everything else…”
Coring out Ann’s insides in a vacuum may well have been an easier task than doing it reality. In the same seconds that Inari felt the behavior of his frame slipping away from him, his senses were repeatedly assaulted by one of the ‘intended products’ of his ministrations.
Ann was enjoying herself. Her debilitation was more measured than his own, but the lidded state of her eyes and the airy stupidity visible in her profile spoke to him on a biological level. Had he somehow been dense enough to miss the meaning of these signs, others were huffed up from below him at a pace eerily similar to the delivery of his hilts.
It was as if she was trying to reward him for his effort. To ensure that a likely failure became all but guaranteed.
“Shite. Do it ♥.”
“Shiteshiteshite. Inari no dame manko ni gucha gucha shite ♥. Do it do it do it. Mess up your mushy, useless pussy, Inari ♥. It’s yours to beat up however you want. Slam yourself into it until it breaks. Stir things up inside until I can’t stop squirting, I don’t care. Just as long as you feel good doing it,”
“Use every bit of me exactly the way that you want.”
There were countless ways that Ann could have made an impact with her voice. Likewise, there were countless contrivances that she could have been forgiven for employing–assuming her youthful suitor even called her out for making use of them at all. In spite of this, she purposely selected the most difficult possible ‘performance’ to inject into what he was experiencing.
She did so at the most trying juncture for herself as well. If the gratuitous outflow of feminine lubrication dredged out of her depths as Inari reeled himself backwards and the monstrous suction that clung to his erection all throughout his thrusting metronome were any indication, her body was as addicted to his rutting effort as the boy responsible was addicted to delivering it.
At her core, she desired nothing more than to scream. To produce regular, sustained squeals that would brand her as a debased animal. To uselessly envelop the back of Inari’s neck in a desperate attempt at riding out the mating press that she had been flattened into.
These things were underwhelming, though. The lurid pulsing and writhing of his length told her that his ministrations could not last, but she needed more than this. Nothing could be left to chance lest she miss out on the best ‘restructuring’ opportunity that would ever be handed down to them.
As such, she did everything she could to remain herself. Despite the piston-speed blows driven against her cervix time and time again, she ensured that all of her verbalizations sounded like her. She chose a breathy, yearning tone over one of outright desire–this in defiance of the stinging bliss injected through her vaginal canal each time the bulk of Inari’s shaft. She did not scream for herself to be ruined when she felt his sodden testicles convulse underneath her lower lips. No: she could do this at any time that she wished. Now was the time for her to prime Inari towards a routine that would fundamentally alter his life.
Fragmented mental images were enough compensation for the effort that she exerted. A mind as choked by pheromones and humidity as her own was very easily sold on ideas; in many ways, she could have made do with much less provided Inari’s palms maintained their choking grasp of her breasts and his profile maintained its perspiring desperation.
Only these rewards were sufficient to keep her ruminations inside her head, however.
Were it not for them, she may well have huffed out one of her thoughts alongside the breathy coos she prepared for Inari’s ear.
“Ato skoshi. Just a little more. It’s always so easy to tell when he’s going to pour another nasty load of boyjuice inside of me. I can see it on his face, and now I can even feel it inside me properly. I told him to be careful, but he can’t help it. He’s shamelessly breeding an old woman like a leaking onahole…♥”
“Just like that ♥. Gut it out more. Stir it up more. Use my body more ♥. Do it until you’re addicted,”
“When you put a baby into my stomach, you’ll get to do it forever ♥.”
The words that she spoke to herself as Inari repeatedly fattened the surface of her lower abdominals with phallus flesh were easy to misconstrue as ‘unhinged’. Just a few months prior, she, too, would have defined them as such. Intercourse with an ostensible youth, much less intercourse with the express intention of ‘accidental breeding’ was not something that a mentally sound woman would imagine for herself in the heat of the moment.
Ann was sane as she uttered them, however. No matter how her brain was rattled into her skull by the thumping impacts of crotch flesh against her groin, she never once allowed the delirium to consume her. At all times, she remained a woman working towards a goal for her benefit and the benefit of another:
Sordid implications be damned.
*PLAPP-PLORP-PLAPP-PLORP-PLAPP*
Before long, the lung-wringing pace of Inari’s hooks became deafening. Out of nowhere, the duopoly of *THUDS* produced by his hilts and the sloppy clobbering of his testicles against her taint were subverted by what sounded like a sodden percussion of soft against hard. In response to what they hoped would be imminent breeding, Ann’s reproductive organs took cues from her thoughts and made the conditions within her womanhood hot enough and wet enough for a translucent layer of feminine slime to build between her crotch and Inari’s.
What had happened specifically almost didn’t matter. The fact of the matter was that an already addictive orifice suddenly acquired qualities that made Inari that much more desperate to cake his genetic materials onto every inch of flesh it had to offer.
Seconds after the onset of this change, he did precisely this. With the change in the conditions that huddled in against the worn exterior of his cocktrunk came a reflexive shift in his metronome.
It became desperate. All semblance of pace and structure was thrown out for a desperate, sweat-greased pummeling of Ann’s folds that finally circumvented the tugging restrictions imposed by her folds.
Outwardly, it seemed as though the matter inside his skull had been melted by the same heat that cutely streaked perspiration across his muse’s face. His grasp on her breasts was suddenly exchanged for a vital embrace of her back, and his upper body collapsed. He had meant to offer some kind of kiss to Ann, but in the end, the moistened flesh of his cheek was simply mushed across her neck instead.
Here, he declared the obvious before his body could do it for him.
“!!!!!!!”
At the time of his brain’s asking, Inari’s mouth and throat could not be bothered to produce anything more than the garbled, unintelligible groans of an animal consumed by satisfaction. Bits and pieces of words could be heard in the outburst, albeit horridly elongated and strained. If one were tasked with making sense of them, however, failure was all but guaranteed.
Realistically, anyone ‘fortunate’ enough to be subjected to the stimuli could be expected to avoid such a ludicrous request–
Relative to the deafening eruption of congealed semen against convulsing cuntflesh, the sound of Inari’s voice was functionally irrelevant.
*BLRRROOSHHH*
*GRLSHH—GLRRRRP—GULPPP*
What novelty the reproductive outbursts offered were matched by sickening amounts of familiarity. Like the loads spewed inside the condoms discarded by the pair thus far, congested gurgling noises wrought from the compilation of semen against itself surged out from the sandwiched face of Ann’s crotch within seconds of the deafening burst that signaled the beginning of Inari’s release.
Before they could acquire their usual prominence, another noise set overtook them. Unlike Inari’s last orgasm, every drop of the squirming paste dough his testicles had produced was splattered out against the face of Ann’s cervix. First smeared and then layered, every rope of the gelatinous mire that his urethra parted with brought the back end of her vaginal canal closer and closer to the clogged state that his instincts sought for it.
The back end of her cunt was not where her folds wanted the substance, however. As soon as Ann’s innards came to terms with the reality of fresh, virile semen in their midst, her cervix–and later the full length of her vaginal canal–became gulping down the substance like a straw. From these hearty slurping efforts were born innumerable *GLRPP* noises whose timing and volume mirrored what one might hear if they were to put an ear up to the face of another’s neck whilst chugging tar–albeit far more grotesque and deafening.
How lurid these noises were to the ear contradicted everything that Ann had claimed about proceedings. With the same desperation of a parched throat greeted by chilled water, her insides slurped nastily virile semen straight into her womb. They knew exactly what they were dealing with as well. On temperature and the lumpiness it offered whilst ‘settled’ alone, they assessed it as different from the thinned seed of an aged male. The fattened sperm within the off-white mire were primed to squeeze themselves into the first egg that they found, and by dragging so much of it straight into her womb, her odds of pregnancy were increased regardless of whether she was ovulating or not.
The innards of a woman counting on her suitor to avoid spewing seed inside of her wouldn’t have reacted this way. Even if she was willing to accept the happening after the fact, the immediate reaction her depths produced was damning.
For Ann, though, it was nothing that couldn’t be swept away with a gesture or two. By virtue of all that she had built with Inari, she had earned the privilege to lay in bliss whilst her womb gorged itself to a pleasant plumpness with semen.
Invoking this privilege was as simple as speaking out right as Inari’s orgasm began.
“Aa, m-matte! Naka ha–”
“W-Wait, Inari. Inside isn’t–”
Her words carried no weight. No desperation or displeasure. They were said merely for the sake of saying them even if they carried a hint of concern to them.
All that mattered was that Inari heard them before an intelligible mess of Ann’s own making burst from her maw.
“♥♥♥!!”
“Ooouhhh…ahhhh ♥. I-Ikuuuu ♥♥.”
“...”
“Eh he he ♥. Warui ko desu ne? Hmhm♥. You weren’t supposed to do that, Inari. What if today wasn’t safe? You’re pouring out so much–you’d have gotten me pregnant, you know?” She teased. “ Yosh yosh. I-It’s ok, though. It’s just one mistake, and I know you just felt so good that you couldn’t help it,”
“We’ll just have to be more careful in the future , won’t we?”
Thus, her work came to an end. By first addressing the situation with her usual affectionate seriousness, she framed the happening as a mistake from Inari that she was perfectly happy to accept. In doing so, the soothing strokes that she delivered against his back and the vice-like constriction that she applied with her folds were swept under the rug as the ‘norm’. As simple expressions of her desire for Inari’s comfort.
All of these had their intended effect and more. Near the midpoint of Inari’s release, the pressure set behind his orgasm acquired an inexplicable increase. All at once, the slow-moving inundation of her folds was segmented by the delivery of heavy bursts of semen from the mouth of her cervix straight against the ceiling of her uterus. By this point, the organ had already chugged its fair share of genetic material as well; the addition of fresh splatters into its depths actually resulted in a hearty backdraft of sludge being forced out through the mouth of her womanhood in the form of wide, grotesque streaks.
What was lost was replaced several times over. Having already been overcome by his own biological desires, the permission that Ann verbalized was interpreted by his psyche to follow through. To make his very best attempt at impregnating her no matter the consequences.
Freedom on this scale was corrosive to the mind of a growing youth. Pleasant in the moment, yet potent enough to burn a precedent deep enough into his brain for it to be observed on demand each and every time circumstances called for it. If Ann was not consumed by ovulation then and there, his instincts would seek to inseminate her each and every time they coupled with one another.
It was done. The tenuous question of consummation that hung over Sotomura Ann’s relationship with a local boy was no longer one of if.
Only of when.