Work Text:
Coming out wasn’t a dignified experience.
The time: fuckwhoknows A.M. The place: dentist office. The mood: total dread, burning embarrassment, vague self-harm idealization.
> Exposition: because she can’t drive regardless of sobriety, Kazutoshi approached her most (ab)normal classmate for a ride to and from. (Hasegawa Ken, really just ‘Ken,’ they’re on a first-name basis where/when it matters.) Classmate, it’s a favor, nothing substantial.
...they’ve spoken outside of classes, he’s been inside her apartment, but because she is a closeted lesbian and he is presumed heterosexual until proven otherwise, they are Just Acquaintances. People can be Just Acquaintances and Maybe Friends.
Just not these two.
> Return to “I Like Pussy”: Kazutoshi sat reclined, steady oxygen supply switched over to ‘laughing gas,’ and her puffy gums received generous local anesthesia.
While Kazutoshi enjoyed this aseptic spa day, Ken unfurled a provided newspaper. Enthusiastically he told Kazutoshi, my sister, Mao, I’ve mentioned her to you, (yes he has, and every night Kazutoshi kneeling-prays that they’ll have steamy F/NB sex once Ken introduces them proper,) her report’s finally out. See here, 'Hasegawa Mao,' she's the byline! Want me to read it to you? Oh, um, the assistant... s-sorry, nevermind. Maybe when we’re in the car, heh. Don’t look at me, act like I’m not even here! Yet he continued to read aloud, sans Mao’s bombshell investigation.
Four numbing applications later; fuzzy lips, nonsense thoughts, and thoroughly inebriated Kazutoshi spoke around the flavored stick in her mouth.
(Now in clear sensibilities, Kazutoshi can’t recall the exact context of how she got to her next dialogue, but she figuratively bets her literal apartment on: there was some prepubescent innuendo involved. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.)
“I mean. Men.”
“...yeah?” She could hear the insecure male even me? question. Kazutoshi sighed into his own fist.
With unnecessary warmth, “Ken, not you, nuh. ’ur like, fine?” Kazutoshi swayed her hand, unaware that she was shifting her whole body. Nitrous oxide. “Sum’ weird reason, I dunno, I feel safe around you. I like you.”
“Well. That’s good. I-I like you too.”
“Better not be aaaaanything more.” It’s more, much more. Ken was immediately crestfallen; medication drunk, Kazutoshi continued carelessly, as if an explanation will help this inadvertent rejection, “I like women.”
“What?” Pussy. “O-oh!” Not to imply all pussy is female, or vice versa, but it’s simplification for the purposes of communication, he sure does engage in some tongu- “U-Uh, Kazutoshi. Can we talk about this later?” Fine. “I’m, interested, but the aide and doctor could come back any moment.” Right, that’s true, thanks Ken. “You’re welcome.”
Last clear memory, right before Things Go Awry.
The procedure itself was sent to the anesthesia-affected retention void. Motion blur, on the highway drive. All things considered (1. Ken 2. Kazutoshi high as a kite) Ken maneuvered the conversation well, drove at a consistent speed for Kazutoshi, stopped at a station & bought her an overpriced water as she was parched. Dry AF after the dentist.
...an embarrassing recall. The bottle, Kazutoshi couldn’t unfasten the stubborn cap. Basic Monkey Brain took over; she tried to undo it with her sensitive teeth (owww???) and, in disbelief, Ken snatched the water away.
“H-here.” Wiped the cap on his sleeve, a mutual distain for germs, then opened the water bottle. Paused hand, skeptical. “...Can you even hold it, Kazutoshi?”
“Yeh.”
“Alright, you can’t. Open your mouth for me.”
“Oooookie-dokie.”
Obediently, Kazutoshi hung her head out the rolled window, and placed her numbed jaw atop the sharp glass. Ken - Ken positioned her cheek. Cupped it, other hand lowered the bottle right to her lips. People saw.
Godddddd.
Resume the cognitive video feed. Fast forward the gulp humiliation, deliberately ignore the blush built on Ken’s face as ice-cold droplets fell of her ajar mouth, slipped underneath her graphic tee. Skip button over him and his fancy, initial embroidered handkerchief at her collarbone. MOVING ON. Next segment!
Things Go Awry, foreplay.
wait
how did they get there
Literally, the sequence of events goes:
dentist appointment -> coming out -> procedure -> public humiliation -> bridal carried to her porch, lock undone with his spare Just Acquaintances and Maybe Friends -> laid like delicacy on her stretch-wrapped, tanned leather couch -> stripping her briefs.
Between: laid like delicacy on her stretch-wrapped, tanned leather couch -> stripping her briefs... dark gray skull pattern, for your information.
Third waxen memory. A Gaussian blur Ken sat on the couch’s armrest, ignorant of Kazutoshi’s ‘gross dirty’ feels about it. Nose deep in that same beige newspaper, must’ve lifted it from the dentist. Thief!
Aftermath of an extensive session, Kazutoshi’s mouth throbbed. Noises similar to a wounded animal's, unrepresentative of a coherent human.
“Ah... Kazutoshi?” Ken peeked over the stolen paper. Expression, worried. Cute. “Everything alright?”
“Mmngnh.” ‘Fuck no’.
“Do you want an icepack? I put one in the freezer before we left.”
Huh. Considerate Ken.
...hum. Indeeeeeeeed. Kindly, smarter, older by a year, and The Prominent Trait: male, Ken... male with a spare, of do-not-duplicate key, to her subsidized apartment. Picturesque opposite of Kazutoshi’s preferences. Natural hair, brunette. Wears tailored clothes, instead of thrift finds and cousins’ hand-me-downs. Naught a dye color, complementary lipstick smear, nor healed piercing puncture visible.
Stock image, royalty-free, first column and first row on Google looking ass man.
Maybe just her friend. Pelvic area vibrated, interested, and her mind fixated on the differences between her solidified past and hypothetical futures.
(OK. Flowery text translation to SparkNotes: Kazutoshi? She’s down baaaaaaaad. Wants that good-good. Het x Les.)
“Nup’. S’mething else.”
“What’s that?”
“C’mere.” Curled his finger, ‘here boy’ gesture.
Dog to its owner trot; Ken stopped at perfect distance, available to be slugged/kicked/otherwise injured, far enough to minimize tension. He tilted his head, silent, despite the obvious flurry questions internal.
“Bend down.”
Something something, if Ken had a tail, something something. At the soonest opportunity, hand near to - Kazutoshi grabbed his collar (his 'h-huh?!' squeak disregarded,) and snared Ken into an anesthesia-tinted kiss.
Present time: the thunderbolt contact returns her into this current, linear timeline - what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck - sexuality crisis bells ring like a church’s, and Kazutoshi can’t regret the kiss. Impossible. Cannot pull away, or apologize profusely, because Ken grips her neck. Orientates her head, tongue halfway down her mouth.
“Mmpf-” The kiss SHE initiated dizzies her. “Mmpf!” Muffled and unintelligible ‘KEN’s.
Unaware, or uncaring, of her uncommunicative chords - Ken moves to straddle her, workout toned elbows at about her protruding shoulders. Further kisses like worship. Tongues deeper in his idolatry. Only breaks the kiss when she must invariably look on blackout verge. Considerateeeeeeee.
Lips swollen from his frenzied assault, Ken pops them, applies salve with his tongue. Kindly, he performs the same heal to Kazutoshi’s. Diligent licks as a clean. Ken tastes of their mutual breakfast, low-fiber cereal.
(Huh. Unwelcome, flowbreak thought: Kazutoshi believes he bought it specifically for her. Was out of her price range...)
“Ke...Kehhhn.” Painful swallow, gravis impacts her so conveniently. “Ken.”
“...yeah?”
“What the fuck?”
“-I! Wh- uh- I-?!”
Raspy, mix between leftover dentistry work and Oh You Know The Maul On Her Throat, “Ken, you kissed me!”
“...kissed you bbbbbback, yes. Was I not supposed to?”
“No! You shouldn’t have kissed me at all!”
“I- huh- what? But Kazutoshi, you- I mean-” Ken is wholly right as he stutters but you started it? And I liked it? So I reciprocated??? “I-I-I,” kinda cartoon character dialogue, “I don’t understand! Please don’t kick me out!”
“...’m not. Won’t.”
“Or take my spare!”
“Jesus Christ, I won’t. Fuck. Dunno why I gave it to you in the first place.”
WOUNDED. “...because we’re best friends?”
what
“And you trust me.”
That’s true. Apparently too much. Man learns his ‘best friend’ is a lesbian, pussy-only crusader, and gags her via nasty tonguing. “Guess so.”
“Kazutoshi... I really don’t understand what I did.” Elementary schooler, he’s fucking twiddling his thumbs. Lifts one into his mouth after a beat, and TIL (Today-I ft.Kazutoshi-Learned) that Ken’s a nailbiter/chewer. Glad he’s never displayed that... UNTIL NOW!!!! “But I’m really, really sorry, if it means you’ll stop being angry at me.”
Normal communication. Mm. “You’re smart,” he smiles, “and stupid,” he frowns. Unchallenged! Denial 0. “Whatever, it’s not that big of a deal,” abso-fucking-lutely it is, but Kazutoshi's odds of winning an argument against Ken, ever, is astronomically low. Personality of a prosecutor.
“If you’re sure...?” Oh is she.
Mumbling; misheard as running water, Kazutoshi stains his ears for a few seconds. Christ. “Ken, speak up.”
Caught, he startles into jumping off the armrest. “Sorry! I just... I’m happy you kissed me. I didn’t expect that at all.”
“...surprise,” he makes ‘whoot’ jazz hands. “Anything else you want?”
“Serious?”
“Unless I’ll die, yeah.”
“You’re absolutely certain?!”
“Offer ends in 3, 2...”
JUMPS at the opportunity. And the couch. Choppy brown hair in her face, his delight eclipses everything. His enthusiastic voice clashes with his painful smile. “Can I eat you out?”
OK. “Wuh?”
“Kazutoshi, please. If you meant it!”
...
“Kazutoshi-?”
“I’m thinking.” Whyyyyyyyyyy? The equation is adolescent math. Lesbian nonbinary. Het man. Incompatible. Excludes Ken Hasegawa. It’s written down somewhere, in blood, no Ken Hasegawa allowed in disrespectful distance of pussy. Shouldn’t spare the processing power!
YET.
It’s not penetration. Sapphic Bible says this wouldn’t count. (probably; she hasn’t read the manifestos you’re thinking of, and she won’t ever.) Disregard the sacrilege, the cunnilingus isn’t really ‘the problem’.
Fuck it. Throws caution to the wind, loosens her sweatpants’ tie. “Answer enough for you?” Screw proverbial identity politics.
“Yesverymuchso. Do you - should I - help out?”
SIGH. Affectionate. Annoyance has left her heart’s vocabulary. “This may come as a shock to you, Ken, that I can remove my clothes just fine.” It’s an aDL she’s proud of. Shimmies out of them; Kazutoshi drapes the sweatpants over the armrest, large breadth so there won’t be any accidental contact. “I’m not moving, so figure it out.”
Onward. “I’ll sit...!” He sits. Well, Ken stretches circulation into his legs, then sits criss-cross applesauce. Tall enough where he’s comfortably at her cunt. High temperature breaths warm her dry sex. Kazutoshi feigns interest in the authentic Persian rug, counting fibers. Rip off band-aid, fling her briefs away. It’s not that fucking difficult.
aDL pride rescinded. The absurdity of the situation halts her fingers. Gingerly, with no request for permission or anything, Ken takes initiative and the elastic. Unlike Kazutoshi’s personality, that being: brutish asshole, Ken is an unintentional jackass. Doesn’t sarcastically jab and question her integrity, no 'what was that about removing your clothes just fine?’ It’s a lover’s help, serene, nonjudgmental, and without comment.
T-that’s - lover, hey, heart? Exclude that word too. ‘Ken’ and ‘lover’ is like calculating zero divided. Thanks in advance...!
His knuckles are scabbed. How EXACTLY did that happen? Never had the demeanor of, Angry Male Aggression, at least not around Kazutoshi. Speculations range from the unlikely (positive) to outrageous (negative). Moe point, he tends a perilous garden via ungreen thumb. Scary incident, he was in the winner’s side of a bar brawl. Possibilities distract, dissociate Kazutoshi from reality: Ken stripping her.
“Oh, there you are.” ‘Hello’ directed at her dull sex.
‘Cute pink slit’ is a prior compliment (?) description. Kazutoshi’s small in every imaginable aspect; the first time Kazutoshi was penetrated, it was unsatisfying, kinda painful, complicated solely because ‘you’re just so tiny’. Sucked.
Slash compliment, description, it’s an insult.
Somehow Ken avoids it. (Later: he manages to find a new, unique derogation.)
“Hey, Kazutoshi. Can I ask you something personal? It's important.”
Exceeding not!sex? “Shoot. As long as you’re okay with getting a kick to the head.”
“Aha...” Ken leans, out of range. Hm. “Do you have any... relevant issues, or, diagnoses that I’d appreciate knowing? I mean. N-not something transmittable - contagious - you’d have warned me. But anything sex-averse... I really, really,” really really really, “care about you. For instance! If you have a condition that makes, arousal painful, which means I should go slow-”
“Ken. It’s fine.” Appreciated. Luckily, his cunt functions perfectly fine; yay single article of body that performs as expected. “I’m a beacon of health, here, you’re not gonna hurt me. What about you?”
“Well-I-um.” He tugs at his collar. ??? “It... I mean... I’m not expecting to receive.”
Neither am I?
“But if you must, or, want to know...”
“Dude. Ken, cut to the chase. Whatever’s wrong with you,” Ken flinches, Kazutoshi mistakes him taken aback as a surprised blink. You'd think he'd be used to my bluntness, he is! “Is it gonna effect ME in some way?”
“Maybe?”
?! “The fuck is a maybe? Either it’s gonna send one of our asses to the hospital or not.”
“Oh. Well, when you phrase it like that. I don’t think- er,” reaction to Kazutoshi’s exasperated glare, “I know it’s nothing like that. Do you think I could show you? Easier than explaining...”
Huh. Peculiar wording. “If you stop being so coy n’ weird about it.”
Bobble-head nods. “Right right right. Okay. So. I-I’m gonna, have to tug my underwear down for a second. Can you turn around?” At her acknowledgment, he stands back up.
Ohhhh he’s got a micropenis. Gotta be, Kazutoshi looks behind herself, mulls. That’d explain his deal, AKA eccentric behavior. Men are so fucking obsessed with measurements. BIG reason for lesbianism; only have tits to judge/compare/lavish etc, and as a perpetual A-cup, Kazutoshi hears a lot of ‘flat is justice.’ Ironing board comparisons are livable.
“Um, Kazutoshi? I’m ready.”
So, micropenis Ken.
Well.
Technically correct. Exaggerated stare.
“Uh, I hope this doesn’t change anything.”
It does and it doesn’t. Did she signal interest to Ken, when she talked about - “O-oh. No, it’s fine, sorry I went quiet. Just never seen one with much growth.”
“Yeah?” Ken gets close, his hip beside her head. The peachy t-dick is better pronounced at this angle; developing cock is saturated with stimulated blood. Kazutoshi has... not the slightest inkling of its function. Do they grow erect? If Ken orgasms, how will that effect his dick? Very superfluous questions aplenty. Discovery time. “Have you met girls on testosterone?”
Kazutoshi hums. “Several, but not like, that many. Not a ton. Different reasons for them all though, which surprised me at first? Muscle, weight, some of ‘em wanted the arm hair. Pretty cool.”
Wide-eyed expression, hazel slivers in his pupils. “Interesting. I mean, I’ve heard of men going on estrogen for similar reasons. Hadn’t considered the opposite. Hope it was... pleasant?”
“Yep.”
The conversation lulls there. Can’t stretch a fair topic about other people’s genitalia for that long, unless you’re progressively strange. Mercifully, Ken steers them towards cunnilingus again; lifts his briefs up, bulge a very noticeable presence now. w/e Ken returns to the floor. Ideally, where men should be, Kazutoshi thinks.
Also w/e is a fucking lie, Kazutoshi’s completely distracted by cock. Mystified at the small tent, because -?? Screw this, I don’t need a guy to eat me out. Pfft. No, ‘cause I want that dick in my mouth.
Moment of clarity.
Wowwwwww she’s more inebriated than she thought. The allure is manufactured by medicine. Unsoundness of mind. Everything rings hollow, but Kazutoshi must justify that Idle Hands, Devil’s Playthings muse. Then again it’s not like Ken can read her mind, and she doubts her face lit up with ‘can I blow you?’ energy. So it’s like fine actually? Cool.
During her aforementioned ‘Huh What Was That About Dick In My Mouth?’ sanity break, Ken’s tongue felt at her cunt.
Ah, she hadn’t even noticed. Timid mouth. His strength is akin to a lukewarm breeze. He angles his head at Kazutoshi’s direction, her hand in his hair and closing her legs just so; tongue reaches a bit deeper, without purchase.
Inexperienced. Everyone act surprised. If we extend much grace and stretch reality’s fabric, maximum: Ken has practiced kisses on a blow-up doll. Poor biodegradable plastic, it deserved better than Hasegawa.
Who is actually curving his tongue. Finally. New stimuli encourages arousal, pre.
Reactions: nonexistent?
Apathetic about Kazutoshi’s flavor, who kinda misses the theatrics, or hums/pleased noises. Myeh. If Ken was a woman, this would be a soon forgotten sexual encounter; not the worst, not the best, leans Poor over true Average, send & delete from recycle bin type memory. Unfortunately he’s an impermeable, highlighted segment of Kazutoshi’s black book.
Could suffice as an anecdote. “I tried men” counterclaim to compulsory heterosexuality. Okay then.
“Oi.” She drums on Ken’s scalp. T-that abrupt lift of his head, that sparked. Tongue and canines and overall mouth dude if only he utilized those all more. “E-ehh, I’m calling it.”
“...Kazutoshi?”
“Get ‘offa me.” Nudge. Zilch. “Don’t make me kick you.” Hesitated withdrawal. Kicked puppy attitude is here even though she literally doesn’t kick him. Ughhhhh she shouldn’t feel BAD he did an OKAY job. She is wet. Just. Leaky faucet kinda. Needs a plumber to fix her up real good. Ken is unqualified.
Before awkward silence can intrude, “I-I’m sorry. You, I, um.” Both of them know he Failed At Cunnilingus. Bombed the exam. Try again. Attend remedial. “Really, I... I didn’t know what to expect.”
“It’s fine.” Crick in Kazutoshi’s neck from weird position, less okay. Plumber and a shower. That’s dependable.
“You looked so bored.” Correct. “Don’t stop here. There’s a reason, I-I swear, please. Please, Kazutoshi, let me explain.”
If it’ll make him shut up. It’s almost endearing. “Shoot.”
Thank you sigh. “Sensory issues.”
Dammit.
That is an actual explanation.
‘I didn’t know what to expect’ = ‘my autism makes New Experience Scary and I just risked a lot of my self-confidence/esteem/worth for you please don’t be mad’. Great, does she owe him a second chance? Is there social etiquette for ‘oops my bad for judging you on your ND thing don’t write a callout’ yet? “O-oh. That sucks.”
“Well, it doesn’t suck... I uh, didn’t think it’d be an issue. The texture and stuff. Since I’ve read articles and things...”
SERIOUSLY STUDIED SEX aldjkgdgjdhgd
“F-for TV! Not that I’ve ever needed it... M-m-moving on! I want to continue. Can we keep going?”
“Do you have something in mind? Will you try harder?” Dangerous questions.
Fiery, shonen protagonist intensity, ‘yes’. It’s hot. Okay then.
Takes her by the thighs. Gentle spread open, mindful of whatever condition she has that makes her stiffen. Good boy.
Ken resumes mouthing at her, more adamant. Mm. His head game ranks up, ‘inadequate’ climbs to ‘adequate’. Passing grade of C. Kazutoshi groans into her balled up fist; the visual and sounds are hotter than his tongue. Bobs up and down, swivels to touch her deeper. Uncensored and noisily. A virgin Kazutoshi would’ve climaxed upon him by now.
Alas.
He shows nothing spectacular. Nix gender and Kazutoshi could substitute him with Girl #16, 19, 23...
A hum at her innards. Ken licks that reverb area, then draws back. A flicker of her white pre on his tastebuds - hot - that he swallows. “Hm... Kazutoshi?”
Listless. “Yeah?”
“I’ll admit... I’m struggling here. Can I f...fi...fuh.” Ken raises his dominant hand, awkward smile on par with his chronic stutter.
🔄 web browser circle loading animation 🔄
“You wanna finger me?”
Ken nods! Proud of Kazutoshi’s clever deduction. “Yeah. Is that, alright?”
Autopilot response, “I mean, sure.” Penetration is with phallic items, authentic or artificial. This is fine. God wouldn’t remit her to Bad Lesbian hell for this, that’s far too shallow; God above must consider her avalanche of miscellaneous and salacious sins. “Wash your hands first.”
“Yeah, of course. Give me a,” literal, “minute. Be right back.”
Sixty seconds. It’s the dullest minute of her life. Kazutoshi sees nonsense shapes in the ceiling’s cheap painting job. See that swirl, squint until it’s a horse...
The water stops. Important to note, as Kazutoshi would’ve missed Ken’s tiny ‘right!’
“Actually, Kazutoshi. I just thought of something.” Ken calls from the hallway. Walks to Kazutoshi, drying his hands with that fancy handkerchief.. Gag me with it. Choke me out on your exorbitant expenses. Rail me while dressing me like something you won off your game shows. OK DOKIE LOKIE HM IDK ABOUT ALL THAT. Let’s not! “Hey? Kazutoshi, you alright?”
YEP all good. Sheepish laugh. “...go on.”
“Should we... move? I wouldn’t want you to spill out of and fall off your couch.” Touche. “Okay. Can you wa-”
“Walk? Yes.” Gelatinous legs or not, Kazutoshi would submit to crawls. (Ken wouldn’t object. Instant salivation, lick-chops fantasy.) “Are you serious, Ken,” she says, while accepting his ‘up up’ hand. It’s - a SMALL help. Non-grandiose. Very different.
Words trip over themselves. “W-well I didn’t want to be presumptuous-”
Super late for that. “Yeah, whatever.” The pair cross her plain hallway, renovated bathroom (door off its hinges - landlord doesn’t know about that) and sliding door toiletry closet, which Ken eyes. Weirdly. The hell...? Kazutoshi stills, disturbed by Ken’s overwrought, torn expression at the closet. “Ken?”
“A-ah? Oh. N-nothing.”
-
“Ken. What are you doing?”
“Warming you up.” Palms glide over her tummy. Flames lick across his path, it’s surprisingly effective. “I learned about this just recently, I dunno if I told you about it? My last television appearance, it was sponsored by a phys ed. company. I had to endorse their practices and stuff.”
“Had to, huh.”
“...that sounds super bad, doesn’t it,” he cough/laughs. Touches Kazutoshi’s abdomen - Ken evokes the fire. Wildfire spreads tippy-toes to his left index finger, climbing higher each second. “I don’t like putting my name t-to things that I’m not well-versed in... you look pretty pleased, though.”
Does she? Kazutoshi pokes her mouth, discovers a quirked smile’s trajectory. “Guess they know what they’re talking about.”
“Mh’. They gave me free samples of their massage gel.” Kneads her malleability, blood collects at the rises he’s made. Kazutoshi itches, aflame. “I’ll bring some of it over next time.” Deforestation.
“What?”
Anyway, Ken penetrates her.
Flexes his fingers. Her cunt resists the stretch; Kazutoshi’s breath smalls, as though she walked 4+ staircase floors. Feeling requires neural processing, and Kazutoshi thinks she’s skirting the line of vegetation.
Ken maps out Kazutoshi’s cunt. Deliberate ministrations, apt fingers tap and propagate a touch graph of her externals. Kazutoshi’s body reacts within realistic expectation; drips, obscene. Pre meeting Ken’s presses.
“Woah. You’re super tight.”
Uncalled for??? “I’m-!” Uh. Hm. Wetting your hand, leaking into your palm, loosening around you. Yeah none of those qualify as sexy. “...the fuck you want me to do about that.” Isn’t that your top-slash-dominate responsibility, Ken?
“Oh!” Ken perks. “Nonono, I didn’t mean it, disparagingly. Sorry.”
“Were you,” ‘ah’s as Ken’s fingers breach another area. “Expecting something different? Like me sloppy and prepped or whatever.”
He shakes his head. “It made me wonder about your past partners.”
Huh?
Kazutoshi doesn’t get opportune follow-up questions. Oblivious - as ever - to his own social blunders, Ken. Woah. Her heartbeat echoes, path from her sex to her throat. Methodological, brutal, Ken is blasting faster than her lifeline beats. That’s...
...‘twas presumptuous to call him a virgin.
Whatever space is left beside his fingers, his mouth takes. Hard to believe this is the same Ken she quit on. Carnivore posture; he’s ready to spring backwards from his meal at any slight, he’s still buried deep within his meal. Pulls her apart and licks at the expelled pre. Expanding on the simile, she’d be his fresh kill... precum substituting blood.
Consideration for the future, period play. O-or he tears. “Ah!” Bad idea. Sexy. Danger makes it evocative. Bleed endlessly, a lethal fuck. “A-ah, Ken,” who is murdering her by tongue and digits anyhow.
A ‘mhm’ sounds from inside. Kazutoshi’s thighs clench. Get out stay in. Decides ‘get out,’ Kazutoshi tears- word choice. Removes herself from his mouth. Tip of Ken’s tongue drips white.
Fuck. That’s me. Part of my body on Ken’s. Why did I pull awaaaaaaaayyyyyy. “N-need a minute.” Preventative psyche break. This incubus will consume her lackadaisical.
“Kazutoshi...” Pathetic. He’s emasculating himself. “It’s killing me. How, how incredible you are... you’re so beautiful.” Reverent - and a blatant lie. Liar.
“Tch.”
“Please listen to me. Just me. Have none of those, girls,” spat, venomous, the hatred churns Kazutoshi’s medicine-heavy stomach, “ever told you that?” ...denial through quiet. Heartbreak in Ken's quiver. “Oh, Kazutoshi. Y-you just liked the attention, I think.”
That’s not - no - completely untrue, fuck you, he likes women, and and annnddddah. His defense is broken by a ravishment. Feels good. Dual, Ken’s tongue licks pleasure & his two fingers exercise her. Sparks behind her eyeballs, pre flows easier...
“I get it. For the longest time, I, I sought out girls too. Felt obligated,” Ken swallows the reactionary pre to this statement. “Mmn, yeah, I felt obligated, as a man. Plus, I get the anatomy. Our anatomy.” Wolfish smile at the end of ‘our’.
Shared, ‘our’... besides the modifications, it’s an objective truth. Why is Ken talking like that? Fear halts Kazutoshi verbalizing anything. Best learn Ken’s -
“Face the facts.” nvm “I’m a man making you feel good.”
No.
“Do lesbians fuck men?”
No/maybe/sometimes/yes. Nuance.
“You’re not a lesbian, Kazutoshi.” Humiliated cry; Ken shushes this distress. Sympathy in his eyes, cruelty in his tone. “At least, not anymore.”
I’m not a lesbian anymore.
That
sounds
so- terror twists, turns to trepidation.
“Don’t, just don’t,” cannot climax to this, Kazutoshi, this is beyond offensive, it’s not your fault he’s making your body feel wonderful. Violating. You didn’t agree to this, scream for help, beg for more. “Don’t stop, Ken.”
“A-ah, uh, my dirty talk or, fingering and eating you out?” Fffa.... filthy talk, splitting and devouring my pussy, why mince words. Kazutoshi is reeling in pleasure. Kill her, cataplexy episode into her fucking untimely demise -
“Keep going.”
“Kazutoshi...?”
“All. Please.”
“Um, I can’t- do that? For much longer, and a-at the exact same time, anyway... to be honest, my stamina isn’t the greatest.” Nooooooooo. “Wait, I have an idea.” Yesssssss. “Stay put.” Okaaaaaaay, pfft, like movement’s possible; Kazutoshi’s legs are a desert mirage. Twitches are muscle weakness, otherwise Kazutoshi would be thunderstruck still.
He returns within the minute, carrying (holding like it’s the One Ring) a remarkably unlabeled box. The discreet packaging - Kazutoshi recognizes it. Understands. Within, the box holds something Fuck Nasty.
With Kazutoshi’s silent nod of permission, Ken places the Sexy Pandora’s Box on his nightstand. Tape rip is louder than their breaths.
“This is something I... um.” Ken’s gaze darts. Gap moe. He skirts around the word, gestures at the offending item. Steel yourself. It’s a strap-on. “Do you want to watch me, um, put it on? O-or I can go back into the hallway, or something, if you’d rather not.”
“This is fine. Gimme a show.” Feed her picked grapes, next, then fan her with a palmy frond.
Nodnod. “R-right!”
Up go the plain boxers; farewell t-dick, hello Dolly. Ken adjusts the attachment just-so. Fascinating watch, Ken finagling with his toy penis. Painful style Kazutoshi sympathizes with him; post-surgery leg braces and other medical supports, she understands his frustration??? Tension? Complicated emotion, whatever. Muscle memory can’t stop the jank.
Snap! midair. Clicks into final placement. Decent structural integrity in the harness, given the unassisted strap stays erect. Cockhead is modeled, uncircumcised, ripples a la true veins.
“Where was that?”
“...your toiletry closet.”
It’s heavy, evidenced by Ken supporting his dildo/dick with a hand. Silicone-based lube shines off its gradient pink, solid color cockhead reflecting LED cool white. The harness itself is pure black - striking contrast. Did Ken just grab what was available? Did he prioritize performance, reliability, or price?
Her intestines shift. A visceral imagination. Fantasy Kens clicking through so many options, Kens at a sex shop, Kens touching their cocks to her. Deciding whether or not she’ll like the blue better, if she’d appreciate the nod to her interests, or if she’d prefer natural colors.
Nail in the coffin: he did indeed all the aforementioned, and planted his strap-on in her apartment. Closet adjacent to the hallway bathroom, which she enters a minimum of 3x/day. So what the fuck! When did Ken -? How did a box that size escape her notice? Did he plan for this? Exceptional circumstances, Kazutoshi was on her personal dentist’s wait list and had like, two days’ notice herself. Ken definitely didn’t sneak the sex toy and plot deviously.
Moment of opportunity.
Ken is so fucking sexy. He is also a boy, lesbian mind reminds her. Intrusive thought, that’s waved away, before Kazutoshi can ruminate on what the fuck she’s doing. Not even five minutes ago, she begged for continuation, and worthless person ≠ hypocrite. Kazutoshi maintains her mistakes.
Especially the mistakes that hurt.
His silence is taken as an acceptance. Ken welcomes himself to his bed, and his cock drags on the sheets. What a delicate slide... cotton mouth salivates as A Man crawls closer. Kazutoshi backs, a painless ‘thunk’ of her dorsal to the wall. Upon a cornered Kazutoshi, Ken hesitates; inappropriate understanding dawns on him.
“It’ll be OK. Made sure that my tongue, a--ah, and my fingers opened you up, s-so I’ll slide in easily. At least. That’s how it looks in porn? Sorry, I’ve never done this to a...” real person, he trails off, deeply self-conscious.
HE’S A VIRGIN?
“Pretty wild, you know?” Nope. Do not know. Please stop. Ken takes one sharp meatless hip in his hand, difference in strength completely in Ken’s favor, scale side on the ground, Kazutoshi’s pinned down by a palm. Hopeless, helpless, hellish.
Ken worries his lip. “Never been interested, or cared, for intimacy. Until you. S-sorry, I’m not trying to lead you astray - it wasn’t love at first sight, which is so superficial. Instant attraction’s an extraordinary surge in hormones that’ll tamper over time.” Neat.
Something is. There.
“M-mhm. But it’s a total before-and-after. My therapist thought I was having a manic episode, or a side effect, haha...”
An unmistakable sensation; complete suffocation. They’re lined up. True to his word, Ken’s deliberate mouthing & fingering have spread Kazutoshi, which isn’t a feat at all because he’s tiny. So small. The girth smothers him, size difference akin to a cuff and a wrist.
It’ll fit. Has to. Make it.
“Oh, jeez... I’d say I underestimated myself, but I overestimated your, ah, size. This might... mmmm. Well, it’s gonna hurt.” Drops all pretenses, and his volume. “Please don’t struggle, e-even though it’ll be totally instinctual, so I won’t be mad! But if you thrash, it’s gonna be way worse, and that’d make me sad.”
THANKS KEN. KIND OF YOU.
“Here I go.”
“Wait-” First thing she’s said in how-many-paragraphs, and it’s disrespected. The strap plummets her voice to her chest.
Kazutoshi screams. HOLD ON WAIT KEEP GOING GET OUT OF ME STAY INSIDE OF ME FOREVER? naught a single syllable makes to her tongue.
Soothingly, savior (?) Ken murmurs into her sweaty hair. “It’s okay, everything’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sorry. Breathe. For me, against me, expand your chest to mine. To my movements i-inside of you. Inhale and exhale when I move and stop, alright? You’ll adjust.”
Agony. Strain burns. Tears spring to his eyes, 1. at the uncomfortable penetration, it’s not a squeeze it’s a stab 2. the incessant apologies. “Sorry! I’ll prep you more next time.” 3. Next time. Next time next time next time pride keeps wails at bay. Despite everything, his body betrays him, and Kazutoshi goes limp. The drive leaves, because his body’s attuned to failure, not because he isn’t deep in violent daydreams. Quite graphic.
Inhale/exhale. Inhale/exhale. I-Inhale/exhale; Ken was right. Weakness, allowance dampens the pain. The ‘torn asunder’ feel becomes a questionable memory. Ken’s rearranging her insides like he's moving furniture.
Sexy. Wait. It’s not just Ken, shaping her into a vial, it’s his strap on.
A man is dicking me down. That’s his cock.
“Goddammit, you feel so good...” Clears his throat. Ken delves further and the conclusive shockwave electrifies his body. Nerves activated into !!! and pre encouraged. Producing more, and more, moremoremore he’s soaking the cock inside of him. “Kazutoshi, t-this is amazing.”
Broken words, not said in a running sentence; tremors vocally and bodily. “You’re a virgin, of course you’re having a f’ing fantastic time, even tho’ it’s with m-”
Ken slaps Kazutoshi’s hindquarter. ‘Ow’ is a moan. “Sorry! Oh my God, Kazutoshi.” Despite the sincerity, Ken doesn’t pause. If anything, he moves harder. “I didn’t mean to hit you. Dammit, that’s definitely gonna bruise...”
Hit me again to make doubly sure. “It’s fine, fine, fuck, why’d you cut me off like that?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Darkly, “I’d do it again.”
Heartbeat. Panic/pleased.
By the second, sentience is a more tenuous grasp. Hold on...! Stop! A conflict between ‘enjoy’ and ‘fight,’ emotion vs intellect. Enjoy, emotion, elation triumphs a little easier in every battle.
A nonspecific jab tilts Kazutoshi. “God!” Aaaaaaarches away from Ken. Her graphic tee rides up on the wall, and Kazutoshi dizzies at the renewed smell of sanitizer. Today was about the dentist, how did they get here? What’s escape?
“Kazutoshi...” Calmer roll of the hips. The strap doesn’t reach as far. Part way through. That (should be, isn’t, it’s not it’s not it’s NOT) is good! Collect yourself and push Ken off of you, say he’s gone too far. (Be still. Let him take you. He’s in charge, masculinity is good.) “Look at me.”
“Lookin’.”
“...what’s bothering you? You seriously look, um, troubled. Whatever’s on your mind is keeping you clenched a-around me, too.”
Moment of truth.
Fuck.
“I just keep thinking about the fact that,” puuuuuuuuush, was that intentional? To interrupt her? It worked, and Kazutoshi’s resolve slips a bit more. Is ‘sane’ something that can be ascribed to her, anymore. “’th you’re a man.”
I see, Ken whisper-wonders. “Tell me, what’s happening.”
“W-we’re having sex.”
Slam; Kazutoshi’s body shakes, her brain melts on impact. He’s eviscerating her. Ken thrusts throughout his question, overcompensating the shortly broken speed. “Say more, I w-wanna make sure you understand. What kind of sex?”
“Ken-!”
“You,” in, out, inhale, exhale, “s-said it yourself. I’m a man. My strap is inside of your-” he rants on. Feverish words to a hot canal. “Name what this is. What kind of sex? Better yet, why?”
Arousal and self-degradation sob. “Str, straight sex, but I’m a lesbian-”
“No.” His manufactured cock hits like a punch. Simple, angry ‘no’ somehow goes deeper, Kazutoshi’s pelvis ruptures with I’m sorry arousal. “We’ve been over this, that’s exactly why I’m asking, you’re in denial. In a ffh - delusion. Reality is-? Sex, and why-?”
Is and why. “Straight sex becaus’. Be’cauz.” Orgasm, or his own slurry words, 50/50 on what’s gonna kill him. “Caus’ Ken’s a man and I like men.”
“Always have, deep down,” Ken grunts. The cockhead can’t withstand Ken’s breakneck plows, it curves inward. Meets flooring and Kazutoshi - if he had a single breath available, he would’ve. Might’ve? Coughed, gasped, screamed; the strap continues, grinds on him, and his vulnerable heart skips.
Fainting spell blood rushes. This specific cataleptic episode forever mars Kazutoshi. Feeling, intensity, permanent psyche change - better than prior and future orgasms; worse than all the other seizes.
Frightening. Chipped black nailpolish scratches at Ken... barely. He’s pawing at his aggressor, conveys ‘more please’ not ‘stop right-fucking-now I will break your kneecaps’. Curses, leg kicks, all thrashing in Kazutoshi’s head. I like men. Inebriated sentence. Logical fallacy, it’s just not true. Unconsciously, lavender ruminations, encouraged by the leftover anesthesia... I like men. Stereotypically so.
Men and their dicks, like Ken’s. Learned/practiced disgust is a difficult emotion, what with the dick still rutting on her. Lighter fluid, that’s what composes Kazutoshi’s body right now. Ready inferno -
His head rings, the consequences of the stopped bloodstream - he thinks? Does that make sense? The fuck does she know, Kazutoshi thought she was a lesbian for over a decade.
“Whu... Kazutoshi? Why are you laughing?”
“Ahh.. hehhhuu... Kennnnnh.” He croons at a blurry Ken. “I’m closssss’e.” In delirious giggles, threshold of climax, her cunt is singing finally finally finally that male cock’s nestled inside. All is right in the world. Just as it should be. Holes are a reprieve. That’s entry-level biology, and Kazutoshi’s been an anti-science idiot. So she laughs, cries otherwise.
“I’ll catch you.”
“Keennhh...Kennnn.....”
Says, wretched with unabashed love, “Kazutoshi, I’m here. You’re safe.” How can he speak so soft. Doesn’t it break his brain too? The oxymoron extremes? “Fall down.”
Give in.
Stop fighting.
Let go.
“Please. I-I want to take care of you, Kazutoshi.”
Quit it.
“As your friend,”
no -
“- a-and, and well, your lover,”
no, no -
“- but ultimately a-as your boyfriend-!”
nonononOnonnNoNoNononononnononnon...
“Boyfriend, Ken’s mh’?”
“Fuck, Kazutoshi, please -! Enough is enough, hah,” Kazutoshi whines guilty, repentant for an unaware crime, for whatever’s upsetting Ken, “Kazutoshi, don’t talk yourself out of this!”
Waves; give in stop fighting let go quit it no no my boyfriend. Said boyfriend lifts his hips, the bend snaps back to position. Unrelated, but Kazutoshi thinks he saw pearly Heaven.
“I have to take care of you. I’m going to die if I don’t,” his breaths become uneven with the invigorated grinds. “I’ll die without you. So come for me already!”
Permission. The utter gall? Man telling her what to do.
Aforesaid inferno is started to a blaze. “Ken, p-please-” You vapid slut. Please what? More, you want that man inside? Less, you want him outside? Say it. Open your legs a little. Close them further. Let him go, keep him there? You’re broken. You’re becoming a heterosexual.
Ken - Kazutoshi hhhhhhhhhowls. “Please!” Please know what I want, for me. Forever and ever. Ken-!
“W-what is stopping you? Kazutoshi, god,” he lifts her into strychnine posture. Opalescent Heaven shines on her stomach. Per this new position Kazutoshi sees,
a
movement.
Sees a movement.
Her stomach moves with Ken’s thrusts. Her tummy is bulging with cock. Lesbian with dick so deep in her, that her body juts it. Can’t fit otherwise, Kazutoshi’s so slim, physique orientated to better hold Ken.
“Kazutoshi! Focus!”
“I’m s-straight,” middle of statement/ask. Between yes/no.
“God, is that,” two hands grip her ass. Lifting more, and more, Ken re-enters her POV. He’s sweaty. Fluorescent cool. Stock standard male. “Is that what’s keeping you still? A-aren’t you exhausted of it, do you need to repeat after me?”
Despite herself, Kazutoshi nods. Okay then, Ken murmurs.
“You’re not a lesbian anymore.” Echoes this. “I-in fact, you’ve always been attracted to men.” Affirmation, mimicking. “I’m your boyfriend.” Officially taken. “We’re a straight couple.”
Nooooooooyes. Yes! Fuck yes, in a jolt of the cock erecting itself again. It’s prominent on her skin. “We’re a straight couple-” and she knows what he’ll say next. Opens her mouth perfectly, synchronized.
Together - “Ken’s my boyfriend,” and, “I’m your boyfriend.”
She, weakly, orgasms at Ken’s words. Or his cock. Combination of the two. Neither, maybe her body wore out, sex is exercise. Her tolerance snapped. The chord inside broke. Lustrous, the sight of the strap pointing in light stomach finished her.
Many such theorizing but the conclusion is:
Icarus’s fall was more graceful. There’s rainbow splotches in her vision.
Fleeting glance of the sun. Hasegawa Ken mounting her. An assumed out-of-body-experience, until Kazutoshi realizes this is a mirror image. Turned sideways, at some point, inadvertently made to watch a man fuck an ex-lesbian. Kazutoshi’s tits peek out of her shirt. Twin arousal & orgasm have softened her nipples, yet they ache neglected. So tiny and would fit snug in Ken’s hands. Yes, that sounds good.
Next time.
Sees herself moan in the parallel. An ex-lesbian scoured by dick, vibrant strap-on nestled in. Ken’s hands alternate between keeping the pin or groping her ass, now reddened by presumable grips and readjustments. Handprint shape bruise, just like Ken feared and Kazutoshi delights. Droooooools unashamed. Wet against Ken’s cock, a lesser splotch beside her cheek. “I’m str’ht.”
“Keep going. Talk to me. Don’t let yourself think about your words, ju, juustttt say them.”
“Heterosexual.” The orientation Does Something to Ken as well; he moans, hips and eyes both backwards. It’s a split second weakness, he resumes passionately. “For men.”
“Because of their d-dicks, yeah?”
“Pricks.” And scent. T smells good on Ken. There’s a sting of leftover gel on his forearms - that’s what makes him a man, Kazutoshi’s compelled to worship it. “Testosterone.”
“Hah-?”
“P...puh, power,” Kazutoshi sees herself grin manically. Hyena barks. “Hierarchy. I love everything about men.”
“Kazutoshi. You love me because I’m a man.”
“Yes-!”
“Good. You’re wonderful, fuck, God created you just for my pleasure, wasted time should’ve fucked you the day I fell in love. Never look at a girl again, o-or I’ll do something awful. We’ll both regret it.”
Is that such a bad thing. For Ken to - “Uninstall your hookup apps. Yeah, I know about those.” Iced body; Ken grins in confidence. Predator with prey underneath its paw. “Kazutoshi, I found you.”
Revelation isn’t particularly hard. The admittance nears her to another orgasm, knife’s edge. “You’ve been fucking- stalking me-?”
“I had a suspicion. I confirmed it. I fixed you.”
“How long-”
“Mn, let me think," apparently he thinks best when he's rutting. Cool. "T, thhe day we met. Wasn’t love at first. But the way you behaved, I knew immediately; Kazutoshi, I had to lose my virginity to you,” fuck that’s hot, “and I worried you were a lesbian. Glad I was wrong, helped you out of that.”
Spirals in her eyes. Wuh. Wha? What’s even... the bulge is back. Another futile climax.
Ken isn’t done.
Nowhere close.