Heather unhappily contemplated her most recent discovery about her monster body: paper towels and slimy monsters do not mix. She'd thought that maybe her hands were dry enough, but apparently that was not the case. She abandoned the sodden mess of slime and paper where it lay in the half-cleaned puddle of Gatorade in the darkness.
"I'll get it in the morning," she burbled out in her deep voice, annoyed and frustrated. She sat back next to Cam again, bumping her lack of hips up against him in the dark. As she leaned back against the cabinet, her tentacles stretched out in front of her, moving restlessly around, and two of them wrapped affectionately around Cam's leg.
He reciprocated, placing his hand gently on one of the tentacles on his leg, adhering lightly to its slime. They sat there in silence for a little while. Heather could feel herself slowly leaking fluids on the floor. She kegeled and felt her circular cunt respond, enfolded in its protective ring of tentacles. She'd like to fuck her man again tonight, she thought. Their smells were heavy in the air, and her tentacles were reminding her of the firm and masculine shape of his legs below that nice tight ass.
"I'd like to go again," she growled at him, her long and tangled fangs gnashing together in her mouth.
"I love just how insatiable you are," he said, reaching his arm up to her shoulder. "It's nice to be with a woman who really likes to fuck. And I'd like to satisfy that need. But babe, I'm really fucked right out just now. I'm beat, my cock is limp."
He paused, and leaned up into her, putting an arm up high around her slimy shoulders. She listened, feeling him gathering up to speak again. Sure enough, he went on, "I can't say no to you, however. I'll just have to use another body part."
"You're sure that you're OK with that?" she bubbled. She leaned her head against him now, rubbing her cheek against his hair.
"I'm such a slut for you, you know?" He softly laughed, sliding his arm along down from her shoulder to her curving waist.
"I'll take you at your word." She turned in toward him more and hoisted herself up, tentacles smoothly gliding over to his other side, to stick against the floor and help her rise and mount up on his legs. Facing him, she thrust her hands out in the dark, finding his own hands and bringing them up to place them on her breasts. He spread his fingers wide and pressed, rubbing her whole small flat breasts around in circles. Her nipples swelled beneath his touch, stiffening into delightful sensitivity, and she moaned, a long slow stuttering sound like a garbage disposal filled with jello.
Her cunt flexed wide and open, needy and spread out above the space between his legs. His cock was truly flaccid, though, and no matter how she pressed down on his lap she couldn't even rub against it. Hot breath came from her mouth toward his, she ached to kiss but couldn't with her tangled jutting fangs. So she got up, pulled smoothly from her seat on his lap by flexing tentacles, helping him up with her as she rose.
"Come on," she said, and turned away, a few of her questing tentacles leading her confidently to the little island counter that separated the kitchenette from the rest of the loft. Her lust was burning as she hoisted herself up, strong tentacles wrapping over and around to pull her easily across its cool smooth top to lie with her breasts firmly pressed against the surface, hands holding on the edge, tentacles spreading around to grip as well, except for one that had her lover by the hand, pulling him in toward her open, upturned cunt.
"I want you to fist me," Heather growled, need driving into every word.
"Are you..." Cam hesitated. "Are you sure that's OK?"
She knew he was thinking of her smaller, human body, and must not be remembering just how much her monster body stretched. "Cam," she groaned, "I want you to jam your fist down deep inside my slimy monster cunt. Take all the time you need, go slow." She was panting a little bit at the thought already. "But I can take your fist, I know. Remember how I took your balls inside my cunt? And the other day in the shower I fisted myself." She flexed her cunt, kegeling as if to beckon him, even as she pulled her tentacles apart to spread her whole groin outward for her man.
"I didn't know that." He sounded thoughtful, not lustful as she wanted him to be.
She realized he probably hadn't known just what she had been doing in the darkness in the shower that time, only that it was powerful and pleasurable and how it made her move against him when she did it. She let it go, but told him, "Please, Cam, fuck me please."
He didn't speak, but leaned in and down behind her, his face meeting her rising cunt where she had bent it up to offer it to him. Her ring of cunt contracted, tightening and clenching as he kissed that muscular puffy hairy center of her self. She flexed her circle of labia closed, then open, pressing backward and swirling herself around a bit to push her sexy fluids on his nuzzling nose and lips. The stench of tropical flowers and sex was rising around her in the room.
His hands were firm now on her waist, guiding her movements back and forth. Moving up and then around, he planted little kisses all around her hairy pubic zone, between her cunt and tensing tentacles. Those gentle kissing lips were teasing torture, drawing another needful sewer-pipe moan from Heather's fang-filled mouth.
He just went on and on, tormenting her with kisses near her cunt, until finally, thank the heavens finally, one hand came off her waist and trailed along down between her tentacles to find her cunt. He pressed it in, his index finger first, stretching her soaking swollen cunt quite gently, back and forth, around and up and down, as she pulled at it with her agile labia. And then a second finger, then a third, then all four fingers, beckoning marvelously and stretching her back and forth, but nowhere near her limit yet. The thumb joined in, and then he spread it out, and she could feel the welcoming silky liquid surface of her willing cunt as it gave before them, stretching and sliding all around as his spreading hand moved in circular patterns against her inner walls.
She groaned again and panted more, demanding that he push on deeper into her. She could feel that she was nowhere near capacity, remembered in a flash when she had gone up to her elbow in herself. Bit by bit, he moved his hand further inside of her. His other hand moved to brush around her pubic hair, then moved outward to stroke and feel her tentacles.
"Keep going, Cam!" she cried, and he plunged in, pulling his fingers together to a fist, then pushing, a little deeper every stroke. As he went deeper in, he asked if what he was doing still felt good, and she breathed yes. So he kept going, first wrist, then forearm, then elbow. Deeper, deeper still, she felt him pushing deep, felt herself stretching wonderfully to accommodate his arm, her tentacles holding firmly as he rocked her body with his thrusting fist. And she was still taking more of him, beyond the elbow, cunt slime all along his upper arm, until finally he'd gone as far as he could go, and she could feel his shoulder now, felt herself well and truly stretched, felt fingers deep inside her torso, stretching up, perhaps even close to her throat from underneath. The ring of her cunt lips was stretched so wide and tight, a searing line of pleasure that she had to find a way to break, to break, yes, like that, yes, like the way his other hand was tracing through the hair around those pliant pleasurable lips, stroking and pushing her labia with his fingers, up against the upper arm and shoulder that were penetrating into her.
And then she came, she came like waves and avalanches, the pulses of an almost painful wracking storm of screaming orgasm, shaking and bellowing as she thrashed her body up and down, smashing against the counter as she came, howling and jerking back and forth, pinioned on the arm that spitted her nearly through her whole entire torso. Her body squished and stretched and splashed in slime, and then she couldn't take it any more and pulled herself away, forward sliding off the counter, her stretched out cunt contracting back into its normal size as she pulled off of him, his arm remaining where it was as she slid off, away, and seeming to leave buckets of fluids splashing out behind as she slid down and to the floor where she lay gasping and curling up, her tentacles wrapping protectively tight around her sensitive post-orgasmic everything. More fluids glopped and slopped out of her still-pulsating cunt, and her head thumped sideways down against the floor, several hard squishy thumps as she still wrestled with her overloaded senses. Now she was on her side, curled fetal, still whimpering with slowly ebbing pleasure. And touch, hot hands from Cam were touching her, pressed firm and comforting, not moving, against her shoulder and her back, just being there with her.
She said no words, just groaned and breathed and sometimes twitched. She rolled a little back to put her slimy monster weight against the tender lover sitting next to her as she came down. She needed him. She'd had him and it rocked her world. But now she needed just to have him with her with this tender touch, needed him holding her while she recovered from their sex. She started to gently cry, overwhelmed by the mixture of her powerful orgasm and the strangeness of how she had come by it.
Eventually, she settled down enough to move. She moved. Her goal was bed, and she said so. He came with her. She thought of darkness and of light. She chose the darkness, wrapping him in tentacles, exhausted, happy, shaken, and in love.
Her monster anatomy, she thought, was crazy. Was she just one big cunt and tentacles and teeth? To have his whole damned arm up all inside her cunt, did she have anything inside but cunt and lungs? No stomach and no digestive tract, if she couldn't swallow water and ate feelings. But she hadn't eaten any feelings tonight, she thought, more evidence for feeling-eating being something that required a bed. But this all made her missing ass make sense as well, no need for that when you ate feelings and were just one giant womb. One great giant womb, filling everything but where her lungs must be, surrounded by all that musculature and slime.
She felt queasy, her identity seeming to crumble from beneath her as she contemplated the inhumanity of her anatomy. Her tentacles pulled away from Cam, she turned away, curled inward on herself, her arms wrapped tight against her tensing stomach.
