Meeting Priscilla & Esther, F*cking Kate & Xico

Fiction has an unpleasant tendency to reify certain inaccurate ideas about the world. One of the stranger ones - strange because it is so obviously fictitious, when given a moment's thought - is the willingness to fight. The "heroes" are always unwilling to suffer anything for the sake of their pride, and the "villains" are never willing to cut their losses and give up. It all must be resolved by violence, compromise or surrender becoming impossible. Why does everyone try to take a shot at Superman, when they know it will do less than nothing? Because in fiction, this kind of violence reigns supreme.

I bring this up because, on my third week of working at Star Heroic as an accountant, I was accosted by a young man with a gun on my way home from work. I had wound up taking a detour, wanting to check out the local library, and I had thus become lost. As I attempted to convince my phone to provide me with a good foot path back home, I felt the cold press of a gun against my back. "Give me your wallet and your phone."

Now, fortunately, Star Heroic's employee orientation manual explains in detail how to handle this sort of situation. After all, they are a superhero organization, so they've spent a great deal of time and thought on how best to respond to getting mugged. I am nothing if not a stickler for the rules and yielding to those with greater expertise than me, so I followed the manual's guidance:

I reached slowly into my front pocket, removing my wallet, and raised it up for him to take, my other hand holding up my phone. He took both in one hand, audibly stuffing them into his jacket, and took a step back, before running off. In accordance with the instructions in the manual, I did not give chase. I would instead report the phone and wallet stolen to Star Heroic, who would arrange for their prompt replacement.

The only real problem was that I had to figure out how to get home without the aid of my smartphone's map, which was ultimately solved by asking someone for directions, which she gave me by consulting her own smartphone's map, then giving me her number. When I got home, I noted the theft online, using all the appropriate forms.

* * *

The next day at work, there was a solid rapping on my office door almost immediately after I had sat down. Xico hadn't even arrived quite yet, so I got back up and went to answer. It wasn't Xico's knock - for some reason, she knocked with the kind of gentle powerlessness that one usually applies when one is trying not to wake somebody up.

The woman on the other side was one I recognized from around the office. Silvery hair with a thin slice of (dyed?) red, a two-clawed scar that scraped down to her cheek, but was mostly covered by a thick eyepatch. She had a decent figure, though not something with the kind of blatant sexiness of Mira or Kate: some muscle, not fat, decent breasts, but nothing exceptional like Mira's height or Kate's tits. She was also surprisingly short - maybe five foot even, coming up just to my shoulders. "Hey, kid," she said.

She looked to be about my age, but I didn't correct her on it. "Yes? What is it?" I asked.

"Got somethin' for ya," she said, reaching into her jacket - and producing a wallet and a smartphone. Namely, my wallet, and my smartphone. "Picked 'em up last night. Guy who stole them's gonna have his bail hearing tomorrow."

"Oh. Thank you," I said, taking them from her. I was honestly surprised to see them returned to me so quickly, and I couldn't really get started with work until Xico arrived, so I asked. "How did you find them?"

"IMEI." I just blinked. "It's a unique identifier for your phone, built into the hardware. Guy removed the SIM card, but you can't get rid of the IMEI. Cops would check it if they gave a shit. Was easy to figure out where he was. He went through all your cash, and I wouldn't know there's any cards you're missing in the wallet," she said, with a lazy gesture. I checked the inside, and it was indeed cleaned out of money - annoying, since I'd had sixty-some odd dollars in there.

"I don't carry credit cards with me in my day-to-day," I told her. "People spend twice as much with plastic as with cash."

"Mhm," she said. "I'm Esther, by the way. Amaranthine, in costume."

"Roger," I said, offering my hand; she took it, shaking it with a firm grip. "No costume."

"Yep. Just an accountant. Too bad, Star Heroic could really use a speedster on the team."

"I could really use my internal organs staying inside my body."

She chuckled at that. "I hear that. Lost mine a few too many times, over the years. Doesn't get any funner with repetition. You look good, by the way. Fill that out nice," she said, with a gesture at my clothes, making me automatically look down to try to understand what she was talking about. It was a dress shirt and slacks.

"I didn't exactly pick it out to look good."

"Then I guess you just look good no matter what you wear, darling," she said, smiling at her own cleverness.

I let out a small laugh of my own, unable to resist. "Well, thank you." I realized a fraction of a second later that I should say something, and used my superspeed power to try to find something appropriate in a reasonable time frame. "You look quite nice yourself. Rather dashing."

"I'll have to take that as an extra-heavy compliment, since I've got the same problem you do - I don't dress to look good." She gave what may have been intended to be an exaggerated wink, but it was hard to tell, with her eyepatch. "Honestly feels weird wearing men's clothes still, sometimes."

I looked over her clothing. It was a fairly straightforward pantsuit, not really that boyish. "That's... not really men's clothing," I said, at last.

"It was back when I grew up." My expression must have displayed my confusion quite blatantly. "Don't pay much attention to cape news, I take it?"

"No," I admitted.

"Ah. I was born in 1819, got my powers in 1838, fight with a demon," she explained, pointing to her eyepatch and the marks there. "Got used to the voting thing, but just a few decades ago, wearin' pants was taboo for a gal. Meant you were a sodom- ah, that ain't right. What's the polite word for 'em? Used to call 'em sodomites, but you're not supposed to nowadays. Women who have sex with women."

"Lesbian?" I suggested. I honestly was uncertain - we didn't generally call homosexual women sodomites back in my world, so it was entirely possible that the terminology wasn't the same here. "It might be different here," I clarified.

"Nah, lesbian's right. Meant you were a lesbian. I ain't one."

"I gathered, by you not being up to date on the terminology."

She barked out a quick laugh. "Yeah, I'm a bit of a foreigner here myself. The past is a foreign country and all that. You have any trouble, well- I ain't gonna judge you. Still have a hard time believing what people're doing nowadays myself. Divorce rate's way up, church attendance way down. Ah, you don't want to hear about that. Hell, I was never that pious myself."

This was one thing that often bothered me in all sorts of fiction, and now I was confronted with someone actually seeming to express it openly. "You said you got in a fight with a demon." She nodded like she didn't understand the relevance. "That sounds like it would make one particularly pious."

"Sure, I go to church every Sunday," she said, like that was just plain simple logic. "Been going to the same one these past two centuries. But God'll forgive you for your sins so I may have sinned a little more than strictly necessary, over my years. Drinking, gambling, lot of fornication. Ah, sorry, shouldn't say that sort of thing around a reputable fellow like yourself."

"I'm not offended." Mostly because I wasn't sure what 'fornication' meant in this context. Sex, presumably?

"Mm. Where is your little buddy?" Esther asked, glancing at the door. "She's not normally this late in for work." She paused, then pulled out her phone, dialing Xico up. A couple rings took place. "Where're you?" A pause, a muffled response. "I already did that. He got them back, phone and wallet both, so come on in." Another couple quick exchanges, and then the conversation ended, Esther closing the phone up. "She saw your phone got stolen, went out hunting for it with her powers. She got a half-dozen other crooks, though, while she was out."

The door creaked open, then, and a dark-skinned woman with short ivory white hair and a lovely - but not very sexualized - black dress poked her head in. She had a slender physique, and was quite tall for a woman, just an inch or so below my own height. "Do tell me you're not attempting to rob the cradle while Xico is otherwise occupied," the woman in question said.

"If I didn't rob cradles I'd be a damn lonely woman."

"Priscilla Hart, also known as Tiamat," she said, seeming happy to completely ignore Esther's words as she offered me her hand.

I took it and shook it. "Roger Cooper," I replied. She hummed pleasantly, her fingers trailing across my skin for a moment in a way that seemed just a tad too intimate.

"If you're doing somethin' weird to the guy, I'm gonna have to open up a can of old fashioned whoop-ass on you."

"Oh, please," Priscilla said, ending the handshake. "I was just taking a look at his metabolism. You don't mind, do you, Roger?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about to know if I do mind."

"He doesn't watch the tellie," Esther provided.

"It never fails to impress, your unwillingness to adjust your diction to the age," Priscilla said, with a faint raising of her jaw, as if doing so would enable her to look down on Esther any more than she already could. "I am Tiamat. I am a biokinetic, capable of sensing the biologies of those I touch, as well as altering them in the short term. Mostly, I use my abilities on a few very well-trained dogs, but under the right circumstances, making a comrade that extra bit tougher, stronger, and faster is never a bad idea. Unfortunately, it appears most of your powerset is related to the exotic radiation, not to any genetic changes."

"Yeah, and how big's his dick?" Esther said, more in an accusatory manner than anything that suggested she actually wanted to know.

"As if I would measure something like that," Priscilla said, her voice sharp. "Please don't allow this... atavism to cloud your judgement of me. I know how to treat a man with respect."

"Y'know, culture has changed a lot since I was a young woman learning how to court, does respect mean that you use your powers to make the man come superfast?"

"If you used your powers to appeal to some fellow with an overbearing sense of sadism, would that be somehow improper?"

"Probably be pretty gross," Esther replied.

Priscilla just rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. Now, Mr. Cooper, please, do not let this woman's attempts to slander me take root. She is just attempting to tear others down so as to raise herself up, as is her wont."

"Maybe I just don't like you in particular."

"Perhaps it is because I am more intelligent than you, and you feel threatened."

"I'm pretty sure that ain't it."

"I simply want to introduce myself to a new member of the team. Is it impossible for you to stop your kibitzing for an entire two minutes so I may do so in peace?" Priscilla snapped back.

Esther raised her hands defensively. "If your dick gets to be a foot long, wait a couple hours and it'll go back to normal," she said, before backing towards the door. "Nice to meet you, Rodge," she added, with a tiny wave, before stepping outside.

Priscilla took a deep breath through her nose, then exhaled, coming to rest against the door. "I apologize. Esther can be quite... our personalities are oil and water. I would like to offer my sincere welcome to the team. If there's anything you'd like - and I do include there any more recreational uses of my abilities - then I would be happy to provide for you. We're a tad lopsided in gender at the moment."

"I'm not actually part of the team," I noted.

"Now, Roger, you are part of the team, even if you're not in the field," Priscilla said, with a warm smile. "I know very well how important good accounting is, and I'm given to understand that you and Xico have been doing a wonderful job of disentangling the mess that was left by your predecessors. Let me offer my most sincere thanks for that - hearing Mira bitch about the state of our accounting was unbearable."

"The salary is good," I said, with a shrug.

"I suppose it would be," she agreed, tilting her head to one side for a moment. "You know what you need? A nice suit. Do you know why you need it? Because I would like to invite you to a ballet."

"That is... honestly, surprisingly forward of you."

"I notice that isn't a 'no'," she said, with a smile that radiated confidence, or perhaps smugness - the line between the two can be paper thin at the best of times, much less when one was discussing romantic liaisons.

I took a moment to sincerely consider the offer - and by a moment, I mean more like ten seconds of serious thought in subjective time, and one second in objective time. In relationships, honesty was the best policy, particularly when you were already drowning in pussy and thus didn't have to worry about going dry. "I can't commit to anything exclusive at the moment." I also wasn't sure if I would actually enjoy the ballet, but I'd never been to one so I was willing to give it a shot.

"I'm asking you for a date, not your hand in marriage, Roger," she said with a smile and a glint in your eyes. "Though I must admit I wonder why - and how I can convince you to change your view." There was a hint of a purr to her voice, there.

"I don't think you can, honestly," I told her, earning a small laugh from her.

"Mm. We'll see, handsome."

It was then that Xico rushed into the office. She didn't look out of breath, per se, but it was obvious she had rushed here, by the way she pretty much just barrelled through the door. "Sorry!" She said, gulping loudly. She spoke quicker than she ordinarily did, and wound up losing words into her native tongue: "I trying to- capture the man stole k'nembra and I ralsk ather pler. Um. I don't know... how to say that in English... oh! Man stole your things. Sorry."

"Man who stole my things," I corrected mildly. "I suspect ralsk ather pler means, 'lost track of time'?"

"Yes!" She agreed instantly. A benefit of telepathy, I guessed. "Lost track of time," she said, with a nod to herself.

Priscilla tilted her head, looking closely at Xico, quirking one eyebrow at her. When Xico finally seemed to become aware of Priscilla's presence, she turned a sharp shade of red. That just made Priscilla's eyebrow raise even higher, whatever secret thought-conversation the two of them were having was apparently very fascinating to the woman. She hummed.

"It's... not like that," Xico said, almost starting to move behind me for cover.

"I do wonder what it is like, then," Priscilla said, "but I will let the two of you get to work. I'll see about specifics for our date, and get back to you, Roger," she added with a wink to me, provoking a flush of color from Xico, before leaving us be.

Now, on an instinctive level, I felt somewhat guilty about the fact that Xico had just had to witness me finishing up arranging a date with another woman. That thought, once it escaped my conscious mind, earned a panicked little squelp from Xico. "It's okay," she said, hurriedly. "I'm... happy for you... really!" My disbelief must have come through in my mind, because her tails started to curl up with anxiety.

Was she lying to me? There was a tiny shake of her head to tell me she wasn't, but I could hardly trust that. Often times, we use an absence of information as an excuse not to make a decision, when simply considering both possible scenarios will actually lead to the same answer. Suppose that she was lying to me - that was because she judged the 'upside' of us dating, to be greater than the 'downside' of me sleeping with other women, and didn't want to make me feel bad. On the opposite hand, if it really didn't bother her, then it didn't bother her. Further, she was an adult, who could make her own decisions. The only problem was if she thought she could 'change' me, I suppose...

"I... wouldn't... do that," she said, quickly, forcefully. "I... liked watching... you with Lope... remember?"

That did calm my conscience quite a bit. If she had some sort of voyeuristic fetish, the odds that she was genuinely hoping to make me settle down were far, far lower. There was a faint quiver to her lips as I thought that way, however, and I looked at her, curious what exactly had her upset.

"It's... not a fetish... people being happy... feels good," she explained.

I wasn't sure how that made it not a fetish, but I simply nodded. It was rude to insist that someone was fetishizing something when they weren't, and I'd trust Xico's accounting of her feelings over my own. I sat down at my desk, and started to work.

* * *

I don't know precisely what did it. Maybe it was seeing two women doing everything short of clawing one another's eyes out over me at the start of the day; maybe it was just an increased feeling of calm and confidence in my relationship with Xico, owing to her pointing out that she actually enjoyed watching me have sex with at least one other woman. Maybe it was just my libido being in overdrive from having such easy, ready access to sex. Still, I invited Xico over immediately after the work day was done; we left at the same time, but I got home first, thanks to my superspeed. I had just about enough time for a quick shower and an attempt to do my best impression of 'gussying up,' which for me consisted mostly of switching to a tight t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were just a little too snug in the groin area.

Soon enough, I had a cute betentacled girl on my lap, her tentacles rubbing at my thighs. We were mostly clothed, but her hands had slipped under my shirt, so mine slipped up under hers, running along her taut stomach, enjoying the feeling of her smooth, hairless skin beneath my fingertips.

Then there was a bing from my phone, one I was inclined to ignore. Xico, with her tongues flicking against my own in the space our mouths met, however, didn't seem so inclined, because she telekinetically produced my telephone from my pocket, hovering it up near my face. A glance out of the corner of my eye suggested it was a sext from Kate, complete with a photo of her, completely naked, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Too bad for her, I was busy with Xico at the moment.

Xico popped off the kiss, then. "Um... you can... invite her over... if you want... you like threesomes, right?" My cock was raging hard in my groin instantly at the idea of a threesome with the cutie Xico and the sexy Kate, but...

"Does Kate like them too?" I asked, and Xico winced.

"Just... ask her?" She suggested.

I typed at superhuman speed: "I am with Xico right now. She says you can come over. Want to?"

The text came only a few scant seconds later: "ys, cming now"

I went back to kissing and making out with Xico; once again, it took hardly five minutes for Kate to show up, by which point I was supine on the couch with my thumbs teasing Xico's sensitive nipples. The knock at the front door was loud, repetitive, and I honestly didn't want to get up to answer it - I just wanted to continue to lie there under Xico. Those thoughts made Xico blush, and I heard the front door unlock, then swing open. "Hello?" Kate asked, uncertainly, stepping inside. "Roger, are you alright?"

Xico raised one of her tentacles up high into the air, waving Kate over without having to break off the kiss or even really shift her weight. I listened as the woman came around, glancing over to see her flushed with color as the front door audibly closed and locked thanks to Xico's telekinesis. Xico broke off the kiss, then, her fingers trailing down towards my groin, starting to unzip me. Her tails started to happily wag, while Kate watched the whole thing. I was pretty much as hard as it was physically possible to be, at that point. The Lope/Xico threesome had been a hell of a thing, two horny teens both eager for my cock, but somehow, this was even sexier. Maybe it was Kate's body type? The way both women seemed to want to watch me fuck the other just as badly as could be? Kate was still dressed, yet her thighs were wobbling faintly with desire...

What was the gender reversed equivalent of this scenario? What was I supposed to do? Xico didn't give me time to figure it out before her mouth started to envelop my length, slithering down, her tongues brushing against it from every angle. My cock twitched inside her mouth, as she just dove down until I hit the back of her throat, and prompted the tiniest gag. I looked down at her, staring into her eyes as she swiveled her head around down there, twisting her tongues around and around on my cock. My hands bunched up into fists from her incredible deepthroat - she was putting a fuck of a lot of effort into it, and it felt genuinely fantastic.

She started working to deepthroat me again, and I didn't fight against her attempts, letting her take it at her pace. Her choking gags sent splatters of saliva dribbling down my length, my whole cock just twitching wildly, my brain seeming to fry for a few long, precious moments. Her tongues started to stretch out, then, trailing out of her mouth, rubbing up along my dick, stretching closer and closer to the base.

I barely, barely resisted the instinctive urge to grab the back of her head and start trying to fuck her face right then and there. Given that Xico wasn't grabbing my wrists to tell me it was okay, I had to assume she wanted to stay in control. So I turned my head away from her, hoping to find something to distract me in the form of Kate.

Kate was very distracting. She was wearing a nice blouse and a skirt combination, showing off her breasts and her thighs in the way they closely hugged her body. More than that, though, was the way her gaze ran up and down my half-naked body, the gulping swallows when she took furtive looks at Xico. Her hands were clasped in front of her, clenching and unclenching, and I couldn't help but wonder if I should tell her it was okay to masturbate. Xico's loud, almost affirmative hum around my dick, her tongues flapping against it, made my whole body shiver, and also answered that particular question.

"Take off your skirt," I ordered, unable to really muster any kindness at the moment. She liked being ordered around, I remembered that much from the previous times we'd had sex, and indeed it seemed like it was going great this time too. "Panties too," I ordered, once her skirt was off, and she blushed but obeyed the command. It showed off her pussy, wet and pink, every last pubic hair having been shaved away as she wobbled under my inspecting gaze, her flush growing ever brighter as I just stared. "Now, masturbate."

Her hands couldn't have dove for her cunt quicker if I'd grabbed them and moved them, and I had superspeed. She was soon frigging herself with the reckless abandon of somebody who wasn't trying to make a show of it - for whom 'making a show of it' was barely even a concept. The idea that I might want to watch her masturbate just hadn't seemed to occur to her, and by the faint little humming noise that Xico made around my dick, I guessed it really hadn't. One hand kept plunging fingers inside her; the other pinched and squeezed and gripped her clit, grasping it and twisting it and getting shockingly rough with herself. She just salivated and panted, her expression growing ridiculous, her cheeks getting hotter with each passing second.

Of course, Xico had never given up on my dick that whole time. She'd been mostly nursing the top half, her tongues stretching down another inch or so, slithering out to coat it in more and more spit. But at that point, she started to try to push herself again, taking my dick deeper into her throat, gagging and tearing up as she started to grind herself forward. Her brow knit with concentration, slobbering out more and more saliva with each passing second, sputtering wetly, her sclera turning pink as she worked so very, very hard to get my dick all the way in her throat.

Whatever part of me might have considered telling her it was alright if she couldn't get it in her throat was counteracted by the way her expression just got more forceful, more determined at that thought. It was a declaration that it wasn't alright if she couldn't get it in her throat. She was a young, teenage girl, and she had to prove to her older boyfriend that she was able to do things like this. I understood it, with a flip of the genders or two. It was natural to feel a little inadequate about the whole thing. Kate could manage it, after all - that thought made her just slam her face down against my groin with renewed force, gagging wetly, going cross-eyed as she choked herself on my dick.

In the end, she didn't manage a full-on deepthroat, but she got quite close. Her tongues managed to tap at my base, tasting my pubes, as she choked and gagged only an inch or so away from my base. For what felt like an eternity (partly because I intentionally stretched out my sense of time, wanting to enjoy the moment), she just choked herself right there, throat gagging wetly around my dick, intermittently squeezing my cock.

I came at that point, groaning as my hips bucked at superspeed, her getting pushed up and sputtering loudly as my cum rocketed out all over the inside of her throat, of her mouth. She went cross-eyed from the sheer, overwhelming force - and then I was done coming, and she was trying to lick up every droplet where it had escaped her mouth, dripping onto her chin, or my cock, or even the couch. It was sexy as hell to watch, my cock standing at attention the whole time.

When she was finished, she immediately moved to strip herself naked, straddling my cock the moment her clothes were off, teasing her pink sex at my length. She didn't hesitate much at all, beginning to really just go for it. I couldn't blame her. Blowjobs were selfish foreplay for the man, and she'd just given an absolutely fantastic one. Her cheeks blushed a bit at my mental compliment... then she started to speak.

"Yuh, you, could be, having sex, with Kate, right now," she said, her voice staggered as much from her poor English skills as the sheer force of her fucking. I did not expect this kind of dirty talk from Xico, degrading another girl never having seemed like her thing. I remembered her getting upset when I teased Lope just a little about her not being good enough, and now she was doing it to Kate? Did Kate like it? She nodded as she continued to speak, "But you're, not. You're, fucking, me, instead," she panted out, almost gasping for breath, her blonde hair tangling and rolling around her features as sweat made it stick here and there. She absently wiped the tears from her cheeks, where they'd appeared from her deepthroating.

Kate came at that point. She moaned loudly, just bucking her hips back and forth. Xico's tails went absolutely wild in response, sucking up whatever happy thoughts Kate was having with genuine relish, while I had to admit that I was getting a more mundane version of the same effect. Xico actually hadn't managed to come yet, despite how tight she was and how hard she was going at it - that was how horny Kate was to watch this. It was incredibly enticing, but what was even more enticing, was making Xico come, so my hands went for her body, one toying with her petite breasts, the other reaching for her clit, thumb brushing against it.

It took about two circular movements around her clit for her to come her fucking brains out, moaning and thrashing as she twitched wildly in place. A bit of saliva even escaped her throat, that was how amped up she was. I didn't know if it was me, or Kate's horniness being that infectious, but either way, I certainly enjoyed the feeling of Xico's tight cunt wrapping taut around my dick. The only reason I didn't come right then and there was that I had orgasmed in her throat just a minute or two prior. I was pretty sure I wouldn't last through her next orgasm.

"Tuh, tell, Kate, who, whose pussy, is better," Xico sputtered out, as she came down from her orgasm, taking a brief break to rest atop me, her pelvis pressing down against mine, her sex dripping and drooling all over my cock. She sucked in a breath. "It's mine, my pussy, is better. Tell her."

"Xico's pussy is better than yours," I said, and Kate's cheeks lit up, as she squirmed and collapsed onto her knees, her breathing even more erratic, her eyes seeming wild and unseeing, staring past me into the middle distance.

"Ahn, sorry, sorry," she sputtered out, but you didn't have to be psychic to know that the apologies weren't sincere. "Sorry for having, a loose cunt, being too old, too tall, too boyish," she said, her eyes crossing as she finally came, her whole body jerking wildly. Her orgasm made Xico up the pace for a few quick thrusts, her tails beating against the back of the couch like a particularly insistent metronome, and then she came too, cunt clamping down on my cock. That was all I had in me for endurance - I came right inside her, groaning as my fingers dug into Xico's sides, hips bucking up against her, panting and gasping for air as I lost all control over my body.

When I was completely spent, Xico gingerly rose off of me, more a float than a movement of any of her muscles, winding up leaning against the couch elsewhere, her butt in between my legs. My cock just twitched in the air, and Kate stared at it. "Go ahead," I said, not really able to offer much more.

What surprised me was that she didn't start riding me - she moved to suck my cock. I knew she liked fellatio, sure, from the way she responded to it, but I also knew that girls in this universe didn't like tasting another woman's backwash. (Or their own, for that matter.) Apparently not the case for Kate, because she was diving down my groin without the slightest hesitation, bobbing her head up and down in a furious facefuck. Her hands were still in her groin all the while, and she was loudly, noisily, panting with pleasure. Xico just sighed softly, seemingly content at this point to let me handle Kate rather than provide any guidance.

"Your only good point is your deepthroat skills," I tried, and that got an intense moan from Kate, her eyes crossing as she actually came a second later, her head smushing into my pelvis, just burying my cock deep in her throat. The vibrations of her throat around my cock sent waves and waves of pleasure through me, shutting me up while she stayed down there. When she finally let up, starting to bob on my cock, I spoke up again. "And Xico's getting better at that, too. Her tongues mean that she's got a huge advantage over you - one tongue versus six, which do you think is better." Kate's eyes rolled up at that point. I was just glad my words weren't going too far - I really had no idea what the hell to say in a situation like this.

I did decide to shift my own body's position, so that I was seated on the couch, Kate's face in my crotch. This superhumanly strong woman let me just grab a tangle of her hair, and start fucking away, pounding at her face, balls slapping her chin over and over again. I had complete control over her pace, the only thing that she had any control over being the use of her tongue, which continuously wriggled around on the underside of my dick. She almost smiled up at me with her eyes, as if oh-so thankful I was fucking her face like this.

It took me a couple seconds to understand why: my actions had demonstrated that I was really enjoying her blowjob. Like the idea of a woman mashing your head into her pelvis, or capturing it between her thighs, while you eat her out, it demonstrates that she's fucking loving it, which is a thing that's not just sexy, but self-esteem-affirming.

"You should... come... on her... face..." Xico mumbled out softly from her position laying on the couch. Kate promptly orgasmed all over again, and I couldn't hold back any longer - I pulled out of her mouth and started coming, raining down my hot white seed all over her beautiful face, currently contorted into a ridiculous show of arousal, her tongue lolling out, her eyes rolling around senselessly in her skull. When I was completely spent, Xico spoke up again, almost a whisper. "Take her... to your bedroom... and... fuck her... into a pillow..."

Kate was glowing bright red as Xico very blatantly used her telepathy to tell me exactly how to handle the other woman. Given that she didn't shake her head or argue with Xico, though, I grabbed Kate under the shoulder, hefting her up, guiding her to the bedroom. I'm pretty sure she relied on her flight power as much as her legs before I just tossed her onto the bed, pushing her face into the pillows just liked I'd done in the past. I rammed my cock inside her quivering wet pussy without delay, and she immediately came.

It was obvious at this point that Kate was more than merely submissive, she was also a masochist. There was no other way to interpret what had just happened. That didn't mean, however, that I had any idea what lines to say. I knew she had enjoyed having her sexual skills unfavorably compared to Xico's, or even objectively - she'd mentioned her "loose cunt." That didn't mean she'd want to be insulted as a person - say, called a horny pervert - or any of a number of other things. I decided to play it safe, and just stick to the material I knew worked for the time being. "You should count yourself lucky that Xico is so tuckered out," I told her, "otherwise I'd be fucking her much nicer, much tighter pussy right now." Well, one bit of experimentation, maybe. "And then I'd make you clean my dick off with your mouth a second time."

She mewled into the pillow at that, pushing her ass back into me, her cunt clamping on my cock for a long few, delicious seconds. "You should thank me," I tried, already forgetting my mental resolution to play it safe. "Thank me for deigning to fuck you with my cock."

"Thmf fuu!" She started, and I promptly yanked on her hair, pulling her up out of the pillow. "Thank you! Thank you for fuck- fucking me, with your, big, cock!" She squealed as she came, and actually squirted on the bed, though by the way she turned scarlet, she didn't consider that a point in her favor. Should I tell her that it was disgusting, get her going that way? Or would that be too far? Should I tell her it was alright, I didn't mind?

I decided to use silence here. Although under most circumstances, silence or missing information is interpreted in the worst way possible, when one is already well-inclined to someone, one is also inclined to make excuses for them. She would interpret my silence as whatever she wanted - either I was disgusted with her for pissing the bed, too disgusted to speak up, or I was completely cool with it and didn't consider it even worth commenting on.

"Suh, sorry," she sputtered out, in a way that made it fucking impossible to tell whether or not she wanted me to be mad at her. "Sorry for pissing on your bed! I lost all control! I'm a horny pervert, I'm sorry!"

Okay, she did want me to insult her, beyond just her sex skills. That was helpful to know. "You're a..." I trailed off, trying to think of what to use. Bitch wasn't used that way here, it was like bastard or son of a bitch, thus Lope's name. What would you call a male sub? Piggy? "You're a sow," I decided on, "that is what you are." She gurgled in pleasure at those words. "A horny sow that oinks and begs for cock, isn't that right?"

She actually oinked, nodding rapidly, giving her genuine best impression of a pig as she did so. Somehow, this beautiful woman, pissing on my bed and oinking like a pig was one of the most intensely sexy sexual experiences of my life. The fact that she came just a few seconds later certainly didn't hurt - but it did hurt my ability to control myself, and I wound up bottoming out inside her, just spraying my cum all over the inside of her pussy, filling her up in a heartbeat.

When I was completely spent, I pulled out of her, and looked at the complete mess she'd made on my bed. I hoped that her submissiveness would apply at least a little to non-sex stuff, because I did not want to clean this up. I let her collapse down, panting on the bed beneath us both, and then spoke. "You can take a break. When you're up, though, I want you to wash up this mess you made, all over my blankets and pillow cases."

She whimpered out an acknowledgement; I went back to the living room to naked cuddle with Xico on the couch.

XIco's tails didn't stop their happy wagging the entire time.

* * *

Mira sipped her own drink, leaning back in her chair. "New guy's hard for me to get a read on," she admitted to the other woman. Priscilla just quirked one eyebrow. "I don't know how to put it. I tried flirting with him, didn't quite work, but it wasn't the normal way a guy signals he doesn't want to flirt, so I just figured it was some cultural minutiae that was off. Then I thought, maybe he was bothered, so I should ask? But he said he was fine with flirting. So, I don't know. Bah. I'm getting wrapped up in a playing hard to get act, aren't I?" She leaned back in her chair. That made sense. He was just playing hard to get. People valued things more, the more effort they took to obtain.

"Oh, I don't know about that. He certainly wasn't playing hard to get with me, and that was with Esther standing around to cause all sorts of problems." There was a hint of a brag in her voice, but Mira didn't really care about tit measuring contests.

"Yeah?" Mira asked, leaning forward. "How'd it go?"

"I suggested a date at the ballet, and he was receptive. Of course, I didn't have anything arranged right at that moment, so I'll have to figure out an appropriate time, but-"

"You just asked him out?"

"There may have been a bit of light banter beforehand. Not very much, however. Wining and dining is important, but you have to know if they're in the cards before you start wasting your time with flirtation."

Contrary to what some may have thought, Mira merely had a quite good memory - not a photographic one. She tried to remember if she had actually asked Roger out, and became increasingly intensely sure she had not simply asked Roger out. "What did you say, specifically?"

"I don't remember precisely. I told him he needed a nice suit, because I wanted to invite him to the ballet, something like that."

"I see." Mira drained her glass.

* * *

"Hey," Mira said, sticking her head into my office as the work day was almost over. "Want to go out for drinks tonight? Just the two of us, kind of a date thing. Nothing exclusive," she added, with a brief glance at Xico that suggested she suspected the two of us were in a relationship.

"Uh." I considered it for a second or two. "Alright, sure," I decided. Why not, really? Free drinks, at the very worst. "Uh, not tonight though, I have other plans."

"Sure, that's cool. Tomorrow night?"

"That works for me."

* * *

Mira rested her forehead on the mirror for a long few minutes before pulling it back, looking at herself in its reflection. Her expression could only be described as self-pitying cynicism. Then she started pounding on the sides of her head from both sides. "How can you be so fucking stupid?! Argh!" She could not believe she had let herself fuck up such an astoundingly simple task for basically no reason! She was going to get that man back to her apartment and drain his brain out right through his cock to try to get back at least a little bit of her self-esteem back, after that whole... situation.