Story: These Annoying Humans

 

The scent of musk hung thick in the air of the private box, clashing violently with the refined aroma of old parchment and expensive velvet. Ataru lay sprawled across the plush seating, his tuxedo jacket discarded and his white shirt clinging to his chest with a mixture of sweat and alien lubrication. His tie hung limp around his neck like a defeated snake. Beside him, Lum floated a few inches off the cushion, her crimson qipao hiked up to her waist, revealing the creamy expanse of her thighs and the glistening, wet heat between them.

They both stared at the ceiling in heavy, synchronized silence, their chests heaving. The announcer’s voice drifted in from the stage, signaling the start of the second act, but neither of them had moved in quite a while aside from their heavy, ragged breathing.

"Woah..." 

That broke the spell. Lum shifted where she lay, the friction of her skin against the velvet making a soft, sticky sound. She let out a long, shaky breath, her eyes still slightly glazed over and a small smile playing on her lips.

Ataru rolled onto his side, his eyes darting to the way her breasts still bounced slightly with every breath, the red fabric of her dress barely containing them. He could still feel the phantom sensation of her tight, pulsing walls clamping down on him, the way she had shuddered and arched her back when he’d hit the right spot.

Lum let out a sharp, melodic laugh that ended in a small moan as she shifted her weight. She moved closer, her scent - something like jasmine mixed with an electric storm - filling his lungs. Her finger trailed down his chest leaving little sparks of pleasure where it went. That wasn't a metaphor, she was actually producing little bits of static electricity where she was touching.

Ataru swallowed hard. He could see the way her nipples were poking through the thin red fabric. The "pretending" part of the evening was failing miserably. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming for another round, the friction of the first encounter having left him in a state of permanent, aching arousal. He was already a pervert as it was, and now his instincts were making demands of him that went beyond what even he was used to.

"That was fun..." Lum giggled, "Darling~"

Ataru gulped. The battle was lost. The "tactical" facade crumbled instantly. He reached up, grabbing her waist and pulling her down with a sudden, violent hunger. 

Lum didn't need a second invitation. She let out a small, triumphant shriek as he flipped her over, pinning her against the plush backrest of the box. He didn't bother with the dress this time; he simply bunched the red silk upward, exposing her dripping, swollen slit to the dim light of the theater. 

He dived in, his tongue finding her clit with a precision born of desperation. Lum arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her nails drawing thin red lines across his skin.

The sound of their interaction filled the small space—the wet, rhythmic shlicking of his tongue against her folds, the soft squelch of her juices coating his chin. Lum was shaking, her legs locking around his head, pulling him deeper into her heat. She tasted of salt and electricity, a heady cocktail that drove Ataru into a frenzy.

<i>More</i>

He pulled back just long enough to get into position. His dick was red hot and throbbing, his balls already aching, and a voice in the back of his head was saying 'more' over and over again, even as another part of him was saying 'you've already had fun tonight, let it rest'. No need to say which voice won. He didn't use any finesse; he simply gripped her hips and drove himself home in one long, punishing thrust.

Lum let out a loud, echoing moan that definitely could have been heard in the neighboring boxes. She clamped her legs shut around his waist, trapping him inside her, the air being pushed out of her lungs in a sharp hiss. This was different than the first time. That first time it was clumsy, almost like the two of them had fallen into the position together.

This time it was something else. It was the motion of two people who realised they had liked what they had done, and both of them wanted more. Another taste, another visit to the table for another sample. As though they had ordered a small glass to acquire the taste, check that they liked it - then come back and ordered the entire keg.

The pace was frantic, devoid of the slow build-up of their first round. It was raw, messy, and desperate. Ataru hammered into her, the sound of their pelvic bones slapping together creating a fleshy, rhythmic thud that drowned out the dialogue of the play. Each thrust sent a spray of lubrication flying, coating their skin in a slippery, glistening sheen.

This is the girl he'd spend months hating. The girl who humiliated him in public. The girl that made everyone hate him, look down on him, and he was piledriving her into the ground like a piece of meat.

Despite that, he ducked his head down to lick the sweat from the nape of her neck. It had a strange spicy flavour to it. Tasted nice. Her hands cradled the back of his head, pulling him closer, closer, closer still, making him feel her hot, soft, warm feminine body pushing up against him as the two of them rutted like mad.

Lum’s internal muscles pulsed around him, gripping his shaft with an intensity that felt like it might snap him in two. She was sobbing now, not from pain, but from a pleasure so overwhelming it bordered on agony.

He obeyed, his movements becoming a blur of friction and heat. He could feel the build-up starting in the base of his spine, a mounting pressure that demanded release. Lum was right there with him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her pussy clenching in rhythmic waves that milked him dry.

As they reached the peak, Ataru felt his grip slip. In his overzealous thrusting, his cock slid out of her with a wet, popping sound, only to slam back in a second later, hitting her cervix with a force that made Lum's eyes roll back in her head.

A violent tremor rocked her, her walls contracting in a series of powerful, rhythmic spasms that squeezed him with incredible force. At the same moment, Ataru let out a guttural roar, his body jerking as he pumped load after load of hot seed deep into her. The sensation was explosive, a white-out of pure sensory overload that left them both gasping for air.

They collapsed together in a heap of tangled limbs and ruined clothing. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the sound of their synchronized, ragged breathing and the distant, muffled applause from the stage.

After a few minutes, Lum shifted, her skin sticking to the velvet with a loud, wet peel. She looked up at Ataru, a small, smug smile playing on her lips, despite the fact that she was completely spent.

Ataru lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He felt hollowed out, his muscles like jelly, his mind a blissful void. He could feel the warmth of their combined fluids cooling on their skin, a messy, sticky testament to their lack of restraint.

Lum giggled, leaning over to lick a stray drop of sweat from his collarbone.

Ataru closed his eyes, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew he was completely whipped, and he knew that the "humanity" he was supposedly fighting for was currently being outperformed by a horned alien in a red dress. 

But as he felt Lum cuddle closer, her head resting on his chest, he decided that if this was what defeat felt like, he was more than happy to lose every single day for the rest of his life.

"How was it, Darling~" Lum sang into his ear, and it was the most beautiful and melodic sound he'd ever heard. Although, now that they were in the afterglow of round two, a thought did dawn on him. A nasty little thought that, now that it had been had, would simply not go away.

Shinobu was going to freaking kill him. But then again, as he felt Lum's hot breath tickle at his neck, as he felt her naked breasts push into his side? Worth it. Easily.