Coleoidphilia
- Episode 2 - Determination
LOOKING GLASS LAND
I held her close, feeling the warmth of her small body. Her rib cage rose and fell, pressed against my side. Could I even detect her heartbeat? I thought I maybe could. We lay naked in my bed. Me on my back, propped up on pillows. Her curled up next to me in the crook of my arm. Her head on my chest. Her palm resting lightly on my stomach. Her soft breath and blonde locks both tickling my skin. I stroked her side. If she had started purring, I would not have been surprised.
Her eyes had been closed, but now she opened them. Their color seemed to vary according to the angle of her head and the incident light. Now pale gray. Now light blue. Now a slight greenish tinge. She had large eyes, arresting eyes, almost startling eyes. She blinked at me and shifted her head so our lips met. She smelled of me. She tasted of me.
Clearly something was on her mind as she moved to straddle me, her hands placed either side of my head. Bending forward she kissed me again. Now with greater intensity, her tongue probing. Parallel intensity began to rise in me. I placed a hand behind her head and pulled her to me, my other hand stroking her back. I felt her tremble slightly at the touch of my finger-tips. She bit softly on my lower lip, pulling it outwards. Then we parted.
Shuffling her knees further down my body, she knelt back and surveyed me with those oversized eyes.
"You're a pretty girl, Emily. I know you don't think so, but you are. I get lost in your eyes."
I smiled.
"Well I guess you are well-placed to judge. Though maybe I question your current objectivity."
She flashed teeth in a grin and leant forward to circle the modest curves of one of my breasts and then the other, using the same hand in a figure eight; palm and back, palm and back. She mirrored this action with her other hand, stroking her own flesh, enjoying her own skin as well as mine. Moving forward onto all fours again she placed a ring of soft kisses around each of my breasts in turn. I wriggled slightly, both as her touch thrilled and in anticipation of what might be next.
What was next was her tongue, drawing intricate epitrochoid designs in spittle around my areolae. I felt my nipples tingle and contract, become hardened mini towers. She took each small erection in her mouth and sucked. Bared her teeth and dragged them up my nipples, scoring pleasure into me. Reaching back, she placed a hand between my legs and stroked lightly. I returned the favor, her smooth hairless skin a tactile delight.
Again she shifted backwards and settled between my legs. Raising my knees. Parting my thighs. But not just my thighs, also my labia. Her pink tongue connected with my pink opening. Flicking in and out, up and down. Stiffening her tongue, she pushed it into me. Her lips met mine, her nose brushed my clit. I pulled her head towards me, her tongue deeper inside me. Again adjusting her position slightly, she returned to lapping at my vaginal opening, her fingers finding my clitoris and beginning to send me coded messages via it. Her finger-tips pushed and rubbed and rolled and I sank into my pillows, head straining backwards, neck curving, embracing the pleasure of fingers and tongue.
And then a reversal, digits now probing my pussy. One. Two. Mmm... Three. Her tongue circling, lapping, flicking. Heat. Heat increasing. Breath deepening. Biting my own lip now. My fingers stretching and pinching nipples, squeezing breasts. She was good. She was very, very good. Small yelps, unpremeditated, uncontrolled. Involuntary intonation of little ecstasies, bubbling inexorably upwards. Merging, surging, exploding. I pushed myself up off the mattress, preparing for the inevitable.
Then her fingers grew and lengthened in me. They merged into a single limb, thick and sinuous, thrusting in and out, in and out. The timing was perfect, my needs flawlessly anticipated and I came on cue. Eyes closed, mouth wide open in silent protest at the unbearable and animal flowing through me, turning me inside out, baring my soul to the Universe.
Fighting to get my breath back, I felt her withdraw. Opening my eyes, I saw... well me... me sitting between my legs. The dirty blonde hair, the moon-shaped face, the freckles. The tiny, skinny body. The small pert breasts, one with a birthmark under it; partnered by a second on my, or rather her, abdomen. And the one arm ending in a pulsing, coiling, cream-covered tentacle where a hand should have been.
"I knew you wanted deeper penetration, Emily. But now I sense you are displeased."
It was complicated. I took a few more deep breaths, trying to center myself. I had something to say, but started to say it shakily, my heart still thumping.
"You're right. What you did pushed me over the edge perfectly. It was exactly what I needed. But, we'd have got there anyway in another twenty seconds. Maybe it would have been nice to stay in character, you know, like we agreed."
The facsimile of my face and body dissolved and reformed into a sheepish looking giant octopus (if I human can look sheepish, I claim a coleoid can as well). A giant octopus that was blushing red, the color pulsating across his skin.
"I'm sorry, Emily. I so want to please you. It's hard not to give you what you want, when you want it."
I relented a little, he looked so mortified. I had learnt how to decode cephalopod moods pretty well in the last few months.
"It's OK, David. It was perfect. Just maybe too perfect. It might be nice to maybe work a bit more for my orgasms. I know you can't turn off your telepathy..."
He winced at my imprecise terminology (you can tell an octopus is wincing by a complex green and yellow pattern coursing across his head and down his tentacles), but thought better of saying anything. He can read my mind after all and I
really
wasn't in the mood.
"...but you don't have to act on it. Fingers and tongue would have been fine. Would have been nice. Would have felt... I don't know... more real maybe."
His head now had bands of blue and white traversing it slowly. Oh, no! I've hurt his feelings. I might not be telepathic, but it was easy enough to discern David's mood.
"And you didn't get to cum either. Poor you. I know you are doing your best. Let me do something for you."
David, as was his custom, was hovering four feet off the floor. I stood and placed a kiss on his domed head. Then I knelt in front of him and lifted a tentacle to my mouth, while gripping one in either hand. The first appendage extended itself deep into my mouth; becoming rod-like and starting to thrust in and out. I tilted my head to allow him access to my throat. The tentacles in my hands were warm and soft and smooth, but now secreted an oil-like substance, allowing me to massage them.
I let David face-fuck me and jerked his tentacles until I felt a familiar spasming and warm, sticky, salty fluid poured into my stomach. It didn't take long, he had already been close. I had noticed that being me was always a big turn-on for him. My molluskan friend clearly had either a pretty heavy transsexual kink, or got off on aping an ape as much as he enjoyed fucking less evolved species. His body shimmered with flowing, twisting colors as he used me to sate his rather complex appetites.
My cheeks bulged and David's semen simulacrum spurted from between my distended lips and his swollen limb. Had he overestimated my capacity? No, he didn't make mistakes like that. It was obviously the effect he was going for. He was a rather twisted octopus, not that I was complaining.
As his tentacle slithered out of me with a slight whip, I disgorged more of his ejaculate. His skin pulsed chromatically in obvious delight at my milky emesis. Trust me to meet the only perverted, sentient, space-cephalopod. I attract the type. And yes, I know you're listening, David. Fuck you!
"Thanks Emily, you always make me cum so hard. Sorry you're annoyed with me."
I stalked towards the shower.
"Let's talk later. Can I have some privacy? Mental as well as physical."
β
WHAT WENT BEFORE
So I'm Wilson. You know my first name already. I am, or perhaps more accurately was, the lowly Third Mate of this space freighter I call home. There is a crew of twelve, eleven of them have been in their cryogenic chambers for some time now. David and I decided to let them have their rest. They are perfectly fine. We just didn't wake one of them up when my fifty day shift ended. David had a chat with the ship's computer and he can be quite convincing. He even got the bitch to stop starting every communication with "Hello, Emily". Frankly it was getting pretty annoying.