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Messages - medwards10

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Campaign Discussion / Re: Pirate Campaign Take Two...
« on: March 28, 2014, 03:52:49 pm »
Goodnight sweet RP forum, and may flights of reapers sing you to thy rest.

Campaign Discussion / Re: Pirate Campaign Take Two...
« on: March 08, 2014, 10:41:13 am »
Sounds about right. I'd imagine the chaos will start at the meeting with negotiations breaking down.

(Rev, come back to we can continue!)

RP(Main) / Re: Pirate Campaign
« on: March 02, 2014, 08:59:41 pm »
"Spasibo, Analdrun." Sam afforded a quick glance back at the Vorcha which seemed so eager to die a moment ago. It looked a bit flustered. Than again, Vorcha look flustered most of the time anyways. He turned to face Maeve, and by any sort of deductive reasoning, the door as well.

"Care to explain what our task is while we walk?" Sam asked. Without pausing for a response, Sam started towards the door, assuming Maeve would drop in behind him, possibly with the Vorcha in tow. It was fun for the moment to toy with it, but it may get in the way sooner or later.

Misc / Re: On the Side
« on: March 02, 2014, 06:33:40 pm »
Wait... This is my fault isn't it.

RP(Main) / Re: Pirate Campaign
« on: February 24, 2014, 08:21:30 pm »
Sam looked over his shoulder at the Vorcha standing next to him. Any Vorcha that got this close under normal circumstances would either be trying to kill him or asking to be killed. He hadn't made up his mind on whether or not this one would be considered an exception. Upon making up his mind, He spun around on his heels to Face Maeve, to answer her question about the aforementioned creature.

"If it was bothering me, I would have removed him myself. Besides, I've become a bit bored and would like to go out and get to work. I invite you to join me, If your master does not mind."

Sam grinned a bit and spun around yet again, this time to face Analdrun again. "Sorry for not sticking around for act two, but all this fighting and running has made me a bit 'thirsty' so to speak. Would you mind if I got to work now? I'd imagine Maeve would like to come with me as well."

The Story Board. / Re: Welcome to the Murderdome
« on: February 19, 2014, 09:10:44 pm »
(So I see you've been playing titanfall? Btw this is baller as sh*t)

Campaign Discussion / Re: Pirate Campaign Take Two...
« on: February 18, 2014, 05:36:05 pm »
It's more of an issue with my garbage reading comprehension, I'm having a hard time understanding what's even happening in the booth right now.

In regards to the enslavement, you gave me an excellent idea. However, it does involve Sam eluding analdruns enslavement attempt. if you want to discuss this topic further, feel free to PM me, I log in almost every night.

RP(Main) / Re: Pirate Campaign
« on: February 15, 2014, 05:45:28 pm »
Sam looked down on the outcome of the fight from his position next to Analdrun. A smirk appeared on his face as the champion stood over the dead Yahg. Sam turned his attention back to his levitating companion.

"Well Analdrun, what would you like me to do for you?"

Sam devoted a small portion of his attention to Maeve and the Vorcha, who had just returned.

RP(Main) / Re: Pirate Campaign
« on: February 06, 2014, 11:43:09 pm »
Sam stood rather than sit down to watch. He'd fought in hundreds of battles like this one, against a larger or stronger opponent, and won. He thought it would be nice to watch rather than fight for a change. That said, He would have put money on the human if he could find anywhere to place it. That thought gave him an idea...

"Analdrun, Let's make a bet. If the champion wins the fight, I will work for you until the task you wished to hire me for is complete. If not... I may do something else; Something... Sinister." Sam nodded his head towards where Maeve had been standing, to highlight the fact that she was absent. "So what do you say, deal?"

Misc / Extracurricular Psychology experiment
« on: February 05, 2014, 10:42:38 pm »
I'm not actually taking a Psychology course, and I have basically no Idea what I'm doing or talking about, so let's begin!

I'm going to assume that at the moment we all have at least one short term and long term problem. Try to imagine a future in which you have solved some or most of your short term problems and are in a position to work on your long term ones.

Please post the nature of the problems you chose and the results of the experiment. Remember, there's always someone out there you can talk to, even through a screen.

Campaign Discussion / Re: Pirate Campaign Take Two...
« on: January 31, 2014, 10:55:49 pm »
If we can't come up with anything better, Sam could always stab Analdrun's lieutenant (The one that isn't Maeve, Maeve is cool w/ me) Then run off to Lokyan screaming something about being a victim of slavery. I'd imagine that would rustle Analdrun's metaphorical jimmies.

RP(Main) / Re: Pirate Campaign
« on: January 22, 2014, 09:09:07 pm »
Sam looked out over Analdrun's Colosseum with a blank face. In a moment, a surge of forgotten memories surged back into his mind. What should have been his death, his salvation, and his hard earned glory. He remembered the faces of frequent patrons and the face of the salarian who always threw him a snack after every fight. He even remembered the stench of that unholy fighting ring. His face twitched, It wasn't normal to remember things after having them erased. After a flurry of thinking which lasted no longer than his flashback, he had made up his mind on the matter and moved onto something else.

He turned his head away from the Colosseum and to Analdrun. "Are the fighters any good?" He asked, hoping the answer wasn't no.

General Discussion / Re: Still alive?
« on: January 19, 2014, 08:22:57 pm »
I certainly hope I am.

Misc / Re: Required reading
« on: January 18, 2014, 10:51:59 pm »

But being a dream doesn't make the pain feel any less real. "I can't, it's too much why let me go,
stop, please " you beg her, clawing at the sheets of the bed beneath you, but she's stronger than she
looks and you can't escape her grasp. Your desperate pleas for mercy go unheeded.
"Jake, relax," she coos, her comforting voice made a mockery by the excruciating pain searing between
your legs. "Struggling is only going to make it worse. Just give yourself to me."
"N-no! It really hurts, you have to stop!" you gasp, redoubling your efforts to free yourself. Your
thrashing at least begins to pose some sort of challenge, but she puts an end to that when she tightly
grips your wrists in her hands, pins you to the bed with the full weight of her body and forces her ****
in to the hilt. You cry out in agony, but it's no use; even as you feel your insides tear and your blood
begin to run out from around her, she does not relent.
Resigned, you collapse and allow yourself to go slack beneath her she pauses for just a moment
before she begins to move, rocking into you steadily and forcefully, practically angling her strokes to
specifically to agitate the worst of the tears inside of you. You can't even begin to describe the pain;
even the slightest movement against you feels as if you're being skinned from the inside, and her ****
is so large and her thrusts are so rough that you just wish you were dead. Your weeping and
whimpering does nothing to deter her assault.
"Tch. How pathetic."
Vision clouded by tears, you shift your head to look forward; you can see Dirk's apparition now, sat on
the edge of the bed as he watches with a calculatedly lazy disinterest. You don't even have the energy
to argue you just look at him as he looks at you, sobbing pitifully each time Aranea drives her
monster **** deep into your bloody and mutilated ass.
He turns where he's seated, settling into a position with his legs crossed and one elbow against his
knee. He rests his chin in his hand, looking disappointed and bored. "Not even gonna put up a decent
fight? Come on."
"I c-can't," you choke out. "She's too "
"Hell, I could snap her twiggy little arms over my knee if I knee if I wanted to. This ****'s all dream
mojo. You could have her on the ground in three seconds flat if you weren't such a sad little ****."
"I'm not a " You can't finish your statement because Aranea thrusts into you again, this time brutally
hard, and the sensation of your colon being completely perforated elicits a bloodcurdling scream.
"You were saying?"
"Stop, both please "
You can practically hear venomous disdain creep into his voice. "Fight her, you impotent sack of ****!"
So you do. You give it your ****ing all. You thrash and you kick and you shout and do everything you
****ing can to free yourself. Once she realizes you intend to pose an actual fight, she pulls out you
feel suddenly so loose and gross and violated that you redouble your resolve, striking out at her in
earnest. Your alien assaulter doesn't seem particularly phased when your blows connect, but you're at
least providing a challenge.
"Jake, you're trying my patience," she grits out, struggling to subdue your flailing limbs.
"Aranea, you're ****ing me to death," you spit back, but with the agonizing pain still coursing through
your body, it isn't long before your strength begins to flag.
She grabs you by the shoulders, her nails digging hard into your flesh, and jerks. With two sickening
pops after another, you feel both your arms dislocate out of their sockets you give one last strangled
cry before you're utterly broken again, and then you find yourself pushed face down onto the bed once
more with her giant dick shoved halfway up your bleeding colon right where it had been before.
It seems as if your outburst actually made her angry. Her thrusts grow more animalistic and even more
harsh than before, and she grunts and growls as she pounds into you mercilessly. You can feel yourself
being pulled steadily inside out, more and more of your mutilated intestine being pulled out of the ring
of your sphincter each time she draws back.
She hoists up your hips and digs her sharp nails into your abdomen, really digs, deep as she can
****ing go, and then she starts to tear down and you feel your skin ripping apart as she pulls and pulls
and it's not like it's a clean effort, she uses all of her ****ing strength and scratches and claws up and
down your stomach to break whatever skin didn't go the first, second, third, fourth, fifth times, and then
all at once your guts spill open onto the bed beneath you and she pulls out and lets you fall on your
Panting and sobbing uncontrollably in your disbelief, you turn yourself over onto back and desperately
try to push all of the bits back in, and every part of yourself you touch ignites a ****ing inferno of pain
extending to every inch of your body. You're hyperventilating in earnest now as you stare at the gaping
laceration in your stomach, watch your exposed organs pulse and the blood run out from around your
trembling fingers, and you're only shocked from your mesmerized trance when Aranea is astride you
again and batting your hands away from protecting your wounded belly. You scream out when she
brusquely digs her hand inside.
She fishes around your thoroughly lacerated abdomen until she locates your colon; you watch in horror
as she wretches the thick slimy cord out of your body, just tears it right off its anchors, and hums
serenely as she runs her fingers over the organ. "Hmm, where is it?" she absently remarks as she
nonchalantly pulls more and more of your guts out into the open air; her face lights up like a Christmas
tree when she locates the site of her perforation.
Aranea looks as happy as a pig in **** as she holds your intestine up in the air with one hand and, with
the other oh god, oh god, and with the other she searches around inside your body to get a grip on a
higher section, and then she's steadily pumping her fist up along the length of your colon, and you start
to sob again as acrid chunks of your **** squeeze out of the hole and fall to splatter wetly all over your
"No, no, no no no no!" you sob, over and over, gagging as the stench overwhelms you. In vain you
attempt to wretch free again, but with lightning reflexes Aranea's hand now caked in both your
blood and **** lashes out to close around your throat, her nails digging mercilessly into the flesh of
your neck with no regard for the blood that might flow.
"Ah-ah," Aranea chides, as if you were an unruly child. "You mustn't run, Jake. There's much left to
"I can't I can't breathe," you choke, bringing up your hands to claw at the vice around your neck,
but it's as futile an effort as any other you've made.
Through it all, her compassionate smile never wanes. There's not a malicious motion to her
mannerisms; when she looks at you it's as if her face is full of all the warmth in the world, as if she
were making love to you and not squeezing the crap out of your guts like a mushy freezer pop. "Is that
so?" she replies, sickly saccharine she allows your colon to slip from her other hand to flop limply
against your torn stomach and the bed, but does not loosen her grip around your throat. You consider
just giving up, holding your breath, to suffocate and hope to return to the waking world, but the instinct
to survive proves too strong and you frantically gasp for what ever little air you can manage to suck
down despite yourself.
"Well, then." She dips the forefinger of her free hand into the bloody, ****ty gloop steaming on your
heaving chest, and you watch in transfixed horror as she raises it to her mouth. "That won't do." She
slowly, slowly drags her finger along her lips, coating them thickly in your waste, until the razor fangs
of her smile are completely framed by the sickly marbled amalgam of brown and red.
Her grip tightens even further then, entirely cutting off your flow of air. Your eyes go wide as her face
slowly descends towards yours, as you realize what she's about to do, and you want to fight it even if
you know deep down there's no point.
As her ****-coated lips press against yours, she finally loosens her grip around your throat. You inhale
sharply through your nose, but that proves to have been the wrong decision; her fingers curl around
your neck again, suffocating you as she softly moves her mouth against your own stubbornly shut trap.
She waits until you nearly can't stand it, until you're close to fading into unconsciousness (or, as it were,
consciousness), before she releases again, and when you instinctively breathe in this time some of the
chunks of **** that had smeared off her mouth onto your upper lip get up your nose and set you to
sputtering and coughing violently.
Sat astride your chest, Aranea pulls back and watches with amused interest as you wheeze and hack
and gag and sob beneath her. "I just want you to kiss me, Jake," she says, sounding almost hurt.
"**** you," you spit out acerbically as soon as you regain your bearings, to which Aranea only smiles
and descends again.
This time, you relent. She kisses you and, oh god, you kiss her back. You part your lips and allow her
to push her tongue inside, you move against her and feel the **** seep into your mouth and you taste it
and it's indescribably bitter and vile and you want nothing more than to die. A slimy sludge coalesces
between the both of your mouths, and she forces you to pass it back and forth with her and coat your
tongue with it and stew in the acrid flavor and every part of you broils with revulsion.
Eventually, it simply becomes too much to bear. You gag and you tremble and the bile rises in your
throat, and then a torrent of sick is spilling haphazardly from the corners of your mouth as you struggle
to expel from your restrictedly recumbent position. It's cathartic and cleansing and even the taste of
vomit permeating your mouth is better than what was there before, though you're not sure if you'll ever
be able to escape the lingering ghost of its memory.
Aranea reacts not with shock but eager receptivity; she hungrily chases after each of your gagging
lurches of spew, licking the hot vomit from your lips and cheeks and jaws and the places it pools
alongside your head. "You're so delicious, Jake," she hums reverently, still kissing and sucking at your
skin even after she's devoured every trace of **** and blood and sick from your face.
"Why are you doing this to me?" you mutter weakly, dazed and despondent. You don't expect an
answer, and she doesn't give you one. Instead, she shifts atop you; you just shut your eyes tightly and
simply wait for the misery to pass.
Unfortunately, it turns out Aranea isn't quite done with you yet; your eyes fly open when the pain in
your abdomen flares to new heights and you watch as she slowly sinks her ever turgid member into
your torn stomach. You cry out in a high pitched keen, shaking from the building agony, but Aranea
simply pins you to the bed with her hands firmly pressed against your already dislocated shoulders. Her
expression as she persistently rearranges your internal organs to make room for her behemoth boner is
one of pure ecstasy, her eyes half lidded and her lips ever so slightly parted.
"Jake, you're so wet," she moans once she's fully sheathed inside your belly. You can barely hear her,
at this point; it hurts so badly that you can't help but wail and sob anew. Every moment you think it
can't get any worse, she proves you wrong.
Then she begins to thrust.
Your vision goes white and you yell at the top of your lungs and you flail as hard as your weak and
ravaged body will allow. The wet splorches of her **** stabbing into your core resonate loudly
through the room even under your deafening and desperate screams. You can feel your organs being
utterly pulverized, feel them being pulled out of your body every time she withdraws her ****, feel
your blood and **** and dislodged fat spill out of your wound and utterly drench the sheets around you
in sickening filth.
Aranea's own vocalizations grow steadily louder in time with the hastening snaps of her hips. She's
drawing close to her own release now, at least you ****ing pray that she is, a passionate moan escaping
her lips every time she thrusts inside. Before long she's built to a blinding pace, slamming in and out of
your body so fast that the pain builds to a steadied blur of absolute unimaginable agony.
She cries out with one last brutal thrust, and you can feel a rushing torrent of cum flooding your body
until you bloat and the copious blue fluid spills out from around her ****. A wreath of fluids spreads
out around you, every color you never wanted to imagine.
She rides out the end of her orgasm nestled inside your body, then withdraws her softening **** with a
sickening squelch; cum and blood and **** and little bits of lacerated organs escape your stomach with
every heaving breath you take. The lingering pain that you thought was unbearable mere minutes ago
seems like a ****ing relief compared to the torture you just experienced, but even with the ordeal over
you are left without the strength to even move.
"That was enjoyable, don't you think?" she asks as she slips off the bed, pulling back on her dress and
fixing her disheveled hair. The warm smile she throws you over her shoulder makes you want to reach
out and encircle her thin neck with your hands and squeeze and squeeze until not even death is left, but
your limbs feel like lead and your spirit is too broken to even try.
Your voice is so small you can barely hear yourself. It seems that she does, though. "That's too bad.
Well, there's always next time, right?"
You open your eyes again and she's gone.
Instead, you see Dirk, sat on the edge of the bed again, observing you with that same cold look of
boredom as before.
"Heh. You're in pretty bad shape."
You say nothing for a long time; you just stare quietly at him, and he stares right back, utterly
unflinching. You find yourself wondering what he's thinking, if he even can think. You wonder why
he didn't help you. You wonder a lot of things that don't really mean much of anything in the end.
"Is this going to happen again?" you finally ask.
He shrugs, if you can call it that; you barely catch the subtle motion. "Who knows. Maybe fate will
have mercy and you'll never meet her again. Maybe she'll **** the **** out of you literally every
time you shut your eyes. And that'll be your real hell, won't it? Not knowing."
You say nothing.
"Too bad you don't have spine enough to fight her. That's gonna be one hell of a burden, drifting on
with that fear in the back of your head. Any time you lay to rest might be a return to your own personal
abattoir of the mind. And to think, what lie in store for you in death may well be an eternity of torture
beyond what even the most God-fearing ecclesiast could imagine. Lasciate ogne speranza indeed."
"Best cherish the life you've got, because it's the only one you have left."
He loves to talk, and for once you're sick to death of listening. You simply close your eyes. "I just want
to wake up. Please."
"Suit yourself."
The darkness rushes to swallow you up. You wouldn't object if you stayed that way.

Misc / Required reading
« on: January 18, 2014, 10:51:36 pm »
In PDF form

And that's when you notice it: a generous tent lifts the fabric of her already short dress, exposing more
of her thighs than is probably decent. You spend a few moments transfixed by the tantalizing sight of
her soft grey skin before it really hits you. That is a ****. A big old ****ing ****. The sexy spidery
lady of your affections is sporting one hell of a meaty man sausage and from the looks of it it puts your
own to shame.
Aranea catches you staring and you're snapped out of your reverie by her playful giggle; she's put the
issue of Spider Island aside and has turned to look at you. "Like something you see?" she inquires, a
coquettish smile playing across her face. Her tongue darts out as if on cue to wet the painted blue skin
of her lips, leaving them glistening in the surreality of the dream light.
Blood rushes to both your face and your groin, and you're sure your embarrassed arousal would be
evident plain as day even if she didn't have some sort of strange psychic business going on? At any
rate, your adept response is to stammer unintelligibly, trying to look anywhere but at her barely
concealed throbbing bone and failing pitifully in the process.
"Oh, it's quite all right," she reassures, taking a short step towards you; you reflexively take one back,
but when the edge of your mattress hits the back of your legs, you've got nowhere to run. "It can be a
bit much to take in, I understand! But I'm sure once the two of you get to know each other, you'll be the
best of friends."
"W-what are you implying?" you choke out, although you've already got a good picture of the answer.
You try to back up again as she inches steadily forward, but this time all you can do is fall backwards
onto the bed, leaving yourself in an even more vulnerable position.
"I know you're attracted to me, Jake, and I must admit there's something I find peculiarly alluring about
you, as well," she says, now looming over you at the foot of your bed, the massive impression of her
throbbing member more imposing than ever. "There's no reason for you to be ashamed or afraid. Need
we dance about our feelings? Would you not rather seize this opportunity and make the most of our
time together?"
When your only response is to stare back at her in slack-jawed awe, she raises a brow. "Well, if you're
not going to protest..."
Your heart hammers in your chest a mile a minute as her slim and dainty hands move to the hemline of
her dress. She grips the cloth gingerly between the tips of her fingers and slowly, slowly lifts, making a
show of it; you couldn't look away even if you wanted to, which you kind of really don't, wow when
did your dick get so hard.
Then her dress slips over the top of the head, and you can see it in all of its tumescent glory; it looks
much like yours, apart from the fact it's grey and flushed blue around the head, and also sort of huge.
You're reasonably confident that it's something silly like exactly eight inches long, and even more
absurdly thick. She's hung more like a horse than a spider but you suppose you don't really know what
a spider's dick looks like in the first place so that's kind of a silly comparison to make. Do spiders even
have dicks?
"No," a voice so generously supplies. "Male spiders coat a pair of appendages called the pedipalps in
their sperm and transfer it directly into the female's epigyne. No phallus is necessary for copulation."
****! Your head immediately snaps around to look for the source, but the bodily apparition of your
subconscious dream buddy is nowhere to be found. "Wow, thanks, that's really pertinent to my current
situation! I'm glad you've decided to be so ****ing helpful!!"
You can practically hear his disembodied voice shrug. "You're the one thinking about spider dicks.
Take responsibility for your own nonsensical mental tangents."
When you turn back around, you find Aranea staring at you quizzically, her head ****ed to the side.
"Is... something the matter?"
You decide to stop thinking about spider dicks.
"O-oh, no, not at all! I was just, ah, well, okay it doesn't really matter what I was let's leave that
topic, wow you have a ****. I wasn't really expecting not that there's like a problem I mean
with your ****, I guess as far as ****es go it's pretty nice but oh god."
She seems particularly amused by your rambling failure at social interaction and laughs, smiling gently.
"Yes, I have what you would call a ****," she says, looking down fondly at her own member. She
takes it into one of her hands, letting the hem of her dress drape hiked up around the base, and gives it
an idle stroke. "Why don't you come and say hello?"
"Um what?"
There's something far more devilish to her smile when she lifts her free hand and beckons you towards
her with her finger. "Come here."
You hesitate for a while, but eventually your curiosity gets the best of you and you sit up, crawling
forward to kneel in front of Aranea at the edge of the bed. You can't even begin to process what the
**** is happening; even as the not-quite-reality of your dream suitor's veiny blue dick stares you
straight in the face, you're inclined to utter disbelief. You close your eyes so tightly it hurts, but when
you open them again, you find the spidery alien girl and her monster **** still stood before you.
You take a deep breath. "What am I... supposed to, um "
"Why don't you just start off by touching it?"
"Touching it?" you ask, as if the idea were an insurmountable impossibility.
"Go ahead, it's all right."
Tentatively and very nervously, you extend a trembling hand; when your palm brushes against the shaft
you jump and recoil, eyes wide. "Oh god what am I doing," you sputter.
"Relax, Jake," Aranea reassures you, laughing softly. "It isn't as if it's going to burst. Well, not yet,
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you reach out again. This time, when your hand
makes contact with her dick, you apprehensively wrap your fingers around it; it's too thick for you to
get your hand all the way around, a fact that makes any further proceedings supremely dubious. You
can feel the blood and heat pulse beneath your fingers as you experimentally squeeze the shaft is
firm yet soft and gives beneath your hand, eliciting a small pleasured sigh from the alien girl.
Encouraged, you begin to slowly stroke up and down her length, looking up to her for approval.
"You're doing a fine job, Jake," she says with a smile. "Why don't you try with both hands?"
Confident, you curl your other hand around her dick and steadily work it in time. As liquid begins to
bead at the tip, you run your thumb over her slit and smear it around the glans, tracking wet blue trails
over her skin; you're salivating at the sight of it, but you're not sure whether you could even handle
putting that thing in your mouth.
When she speaks again, it's as if she's read your mind. Or maybe your brazen ****lust is just really
****ing obvious. "It's all right if you want to," she says. "Go ahead, have a taste."
"O-okay," you breathe, before leaning forward to softly press your lips against the head of her ****.
The taste takes you by surprise; it's almost sweet, like blueberries. You drag the tip of your tongue over
her frenulum and against her slit, catching as much of the blue liquid on your tongue as you can
there's something intoxicating about it that leaves you light-headed and wanting for more. Aranea sighs
again and gently tangles her fingers into your hair, urging but not pushing, and you're eager to oblige.
With a deep steadying breath, you envelope the head of her **** in your mouth.
Her girth makes it near impossible for you to take much further past the head, and almost makes it
difficult to keep your teeth covered by your lips, but you stay consciously cautious so as not to hurt her.
Without much room to move, you do your best by sucking and stroking your tongue along her head
while you steadily pump the shaft with your hands.
"Are you even trying?" Dirk interjects from the ether, causing you to sputter with your lips around her
"Is something wrong?" Aranea asks as you pull back, her voice full of concern.
When you finish gagging and coughing, you grit out, "No, certainly not. I just oh, **** it," before
returning to where you left off and resolutely resolving to not be distracted by any further provocations.
"Come on, you've got eight inches of prime extraterrestrial sausage right there and you're ****in' letting
it it go to waste."
Sorry, I don't have your huge ****ing mouth, you nagging incorporeal twat, you think back
venomously. Nevertheless, you make the effort to take her **** deeper into your mouth, but it proves
to be simply too large. You'd have to dislocate your jaw to go any further; you decide you do not want
to attempt to dislocate your jaw, even if it is your dream jaw.
"You could, if you wanted to," he chides. "Where's your imagination, English?"
For Heaven's sake, I'm trying, okay?? Go away!
Go away!!!
"I'm cool where I'm at."
**** you!
"With skills like that, I'll pass, but thanks for the offer."
I hate you so much.
"At least remember to cup the balls, dude."
"Jake, are you okay?" Aranea interjects. "You... you look like you're in pain."
You pull back again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand when a bit of mixed saliva and pre
dribble down your chin. "I'm sorry if I'm not any good at this," you blurt out. "It's my first time, and
you're so big and I can't "
"I understand, Jake, really," she interrupts, cutting off your babbling. "There's no need to feel selfconscious;
you've been doing wonderfully, and I mean that earnestly!"
Hearing it from her makes you feel a little better. "Really?"
"Really!" Aranea's smile is genuine and warm. "Although..." she starts, touching her fingers to her chin
Your stomach drops. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, I was just thinking if fitting me in your mouth is troublesome, perhaps some other part of your
body may be more accommodating?"
"You mean... you want to in my "
"I what Jane Austen's dusty butthole, Aranea, I don't know if I'm ready for something like that!!"
You think about it. You look straight at her ****, monolithic and glistening with your saliva, and try to
imagine that thing up your ass. It's a tempting prospect, and you can't say the thought of it doesn't
titillate you, but realistically speaking it is just way too ****ing big. This isn't one of your Japanese
animes. There is no way that monster is going to fit into any of your holes, no way, no how.
"Well, how about we just give it a little go, and if you don't like it, we can stop?"
You... suppose that isn't such a terrible idea. After a moment of worrying your lip in contemplation,
you give a tentative nod, and pull away to scoot further back up the bed. She crawls on after you, her
stupendous **** hanging pendulously between her thighs, until she's settled over your nervously
reclined body, her face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as she removes her glasses and then
yours, setting them gently aside; her face resolves into a blur in your unaided vision.
She kisses you gently, an almost tentative thing at first, pressing her soft lips closed against your own.
You receptively part your mouth and she takes the lead, sucking at your lower lip, grazing her teeth
against it just lightly enough to elicit a moan deep from your throat but not draw blood, probing inside
with her tongue. You parrot her movements, not nearly as deftly as she, but it's an effort all the same;
she laughs softly when your teeth clack together (quite painfully for you), but doesn't complain. She
deepens the kiss, moving against you with a building fervor that you struggle to keep up with.
You're left breathless when she breaks away, but it's not long before she descends on your skin again.
She kisses your jaw, licks and sucks at your throat, runs her hands up under your shirt and over your
hardened nipples, grinds her enormous **** against the much more modest straining tent in your
pants; she's set your entire body on fire with her touch. You fist your own hand in her hair, holding on
for dear life.
She eventually manages to get your jacket off your shoulders and shirt over your head before she's
upon you again, all moist lips and grazing teeth in every place that makes you writhe. She drags her
tongue against your nipple, flicks it, encircles it, sucks it into her mouth when you whine.
"Oh god," you gasp out. "Aranea "
The girl just laughs as she makes her way down your body, kissing a trail to your navel and then the
The girl just laughs as she makes her way down your body, kissing a trail to your navel and then the
waistband of your pants and your eyes are blown wide as you stare at her in terrified anticipation and
then her fingers are at the button of your fly and then she's pulling them down and then your **** slaps
her in the face.
You sit up abruptly, contrite pouring disjointedly from your lips. "****! I'm sorry, oh god I didn't mean
to, are you okay, I shouldn't have that was so rude of my dick I mean Uh "
"Jake, calm down, it's all right! If I didn't want your **** in my face, I wouldn't be down here."
"Oh. ... Right."
She rolls her eyes and pushes you back down onto the bed.
Settled back between your legs, she firmly takes your **** into her hand and rubs it against her cheek;
her skin is so unbelievably soft and warm and she's so pretty and blue and you can't believe this is
happening and then she drags her tongue up along your shaft until your whole body is shuddering.
"Shame about my teeth," the alien remarks with a playful smile, but really, you're more than ****ing
content with what she's doing. She pumps your shaft with her fist as she sucks at the head of your ****,
runs her tongue full and slow over the glans, presses her palm against your balls and lifts and gently
rubs, looks up at you with those empty dead eyes and whoops you just bust your nut all up in her face.
"Um. Oops," you say, unable to articulate much coherent remorse in the pulsing haze of your orgasm.
She's surprised at first as the sticky ropes of cum erupt over her face, reflexively flinching and shutting
her eyes tight, but she recovers quickly and rides you out with hasty motions of her fist. She catches
what she can on her tongue, licking your **** and her own lips clean.
You lay back as your breathing steadies. "Wow, that was... wow."
Aranea smiles, straddling your thighs as she swipes her hand across her face, wiping off the offending
globs of cum. You watch as sucks her fingers into her mouth, savoring your taste. Equally prominent is
her still erect dick, standing proud between her legs. She notices you notice, winks, and then shifts off
you to pull her dress over her head. "I believe it's my turn."
You're struck with a bit of post-orgasmic rationality, and the idea suddenly seems substantially less
appealing without your second brain aching for release. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea, I don't
think it will "
"Oh, Jake, just tryyyyyyyy it. It isn't as if it'll kill you!"
You bite your lip. You're really not sure about the whole thing, but she did just let you jizz all over her
face, so, well... **** it. You roll over onto your stomach. "Um. Okay. I'll do it, I guess. Just... be
"Of course," she says, climbing into position above you. Her humongous honker slaps heavily against
your bare ass. "This will only hurt a bit, I promise."
"Okay. Okay, I'm... I'm ready."
You tightly shut your eyes and brace yourself as she spreads your legs and presses the head of her ****
against your entrance. When she pushes inside, your fears are readily confirmed; you're nowhere near
prepared for this! The pain of your ass stretching well past its limit leads into an agonizing burning
friction as she thrusts forward too dry and too soon. When you try to pull away, the alien girl catches
you by the hips and digs her nails into your flesh so hard you'd be sure it'd mark, were this not just a

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