2.15 ❤ Self-Care … Sort Of

“Come on,” Zoey said. “You’re saying you’re not even curious?”

“No. I’m not.”

“I know you’re lying. You’re me.”

“Clearly not.”

“It’s the same thing as masturbating.”

“Hardly.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Pretty sure masturbating doesn’t include cock going into a pussy,” Not-Zoey sneered. “Honestly, with how much you’ve got down there, do it to yourself!”

Zoey paused.

“Oh my god,” Not-Zoey said. “Not actually. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not! I was just.” She shrugged. “Never thought about it.” She’d considered her ability to suck on herself, but never … putting it into herself in the more traditional sense.

“Would it even work?” Not-Zoey asked.

Zoey blinked. She considered it. “It’s still a bit flexible when it’s hard,” Zoey said. “So, uh, maybe? I think it’d be easier to get it when it’s only half-hard. And then, um, when it filled up, it’d …”

A long silence.

“That’s kind of hot,” Not-Zoey said. “Try it.”

“I’m not trying it! What the hell? You’re supposed to be the not-perverted one.”

“We’re the same person, dumbass.”

“So you want to see me fuck myself, but not—”

“You fuck yourself?” Not-Zoey sneered. “This is getting old.”

Okay, maybe they were the same person; she was taunting Zoey in the same way Zoey would’ve taunted Not-Zoey.

“I’m not putting my own cock into my own pussy,” Zoey said flatly. “I’m not that perverted.”

“Irony? Hello?”

“Shut up.”

“Also—yet,” Not-Zoey said.

“Huh? What do you mean, yet?”

“Please. We know where all this,” she waved around, as if to indicate their lives in general, “is leading. You’re trying to fuck a clone of yourself—you think you won’t play around, at some point? I know for a fact you’ve thought of sucking yourself off.”

“That—that was just a thought. I never actually planned to.” She didn’t know why she was defending herself to herself; the only reason Not-Zoey knew that tidbit was because it had happened before their consciousness-splitting. And hell, it was normal to wonder what her cock would feel like in her own mouth. To most people, it just wasn’t possible; they didn’t have fourteen inches. Lost in the haze of lust, anyone would try it. And Zoey hadn’t even, yet. That made her less perverted than average. So, there. Proof.

“You’re not fucking me,” Not-Zoey said, as if coralling them back to topic.

Zoey collapsed into the bed and huffed. “Well, what else are we doing until our saviors arrive?”

Not-Zoey was quiet for a bit. It had been a rhetorical question, so the eventual answer surprised Zoey.

“I guess … I don’t want you inside me … but we could still have some fun.”

Zoey blinked and sat up. Not-Zoey blushed under her questioning gaze.

“I’m just saying, it’s practically masturbation, isn’t it?” Not-Zoey said, contradicting her own stance from a minute earlier. “And … since we brought it up … I’ve been wondering what it tastes like. Sucking my cock isn’t as embarrassing as sucking … yours.”

Zoey almost pointed out how that made no sense, before realizing Not-Zoey had offered to give her a blowjob. Her cock started to swell with blood, quickly growing to full mast. “Not remotely as embarrassing,” Zoey lied in agreement. “And it gives us something to do.”

“Right,” Not-Zoey said. “Gotta pass the time somehow.”

They stared at each other, blushing. It’s me, for fuck’s sake. Why is there so much tension?

Zoey shuffled against the bed until she was leaned against the backboard, pillows supporting her. “Set your own pace.”

Not-Zoey hesitantly crawled over to her; she’d been seated on the opposite end. My own tits shouldn’t be turning me on. But they were so perfectly shaped, and all Zoey’s monkey-brain registered was a cute girl—not herself, even if it was—shuffling across the bed toward her, naked body fully on display, with her eyes locked to Zoey’s cock.

Not-Zoey lined up to Zoey, situating her legs across Zoey’s own. Zoey had an excellent view of her own pussy. Her cock pulsed. I really want to know what it feels like.

I’m such a pervert.

Not-Zoey’s hands quested out, wrapping around Zoey’s member. It twitched in happiness.

Not-Zoey laughed, suddenly. “You know,” she said, “I think this is maybe a moment for self-reflection. We should talk about us.”

“Us?”

“Delta brought it up. Why don’t you use your other part? You know. What God gave you.”

Zoey couldn’t help but hunch forward in defensiveness, even if the person asking the question was herself. “Dunno. Just haven’t.”

“Let’s be honest with ourselves,” Not-Zoey said. Her hands wrapped around Zoey’s cock were highly distracting. “Is it because you like topping? And it feels more natural to top with this?” She squeezed Zoey as if to emphasize what she meant.

“Where’d all this confidence come from?” Zoey asked, breath growing labored at Not-Zoey’s hands. A second ago, Not-Zoey had barely been able to look at her straight. Now, she was stroking up and down and interrogating her.

“Dunno. Ask yourself. We’re the same person, remember?” She grinned.

Zoey was silent for a while. It was a heavy question; and the pleasuring of her lower half—by her own long, slim hands—made it hard to think. “I … that might be it?”

“I don’t think it is.”

Zoey sighed. “Maybe it’s part of the reason.”

“Is it because it’s overwhelming?” Not-Zoey suggested. “And … using both at once would make you feel weird. Different?” The words were as much admissions as anything else. Not-Zoey was speaking Zoey’s mind for her. “But we should get used to it. It could be a lot of fun.”

Another silence.

“It probably would,” Zoey sighed.

“You’re not weird because you have a cock now. Embrace it. You’re more than you were before, not less.”

“This is a little too … self-motivational for my liking.”

“Some corniness is in line. I’m helping us work past this.” A pause. “And speaking from the person who lost it … having a cock is awesome. I already miss it. You’re lucky you have both—the question is, why don’t you take advantage of it?”

“They’ve never shown interest with … ” Zoey didn’t need to finish the statement.

Not-Zoey gave her an unimpressed look. “Delta did, and you shot her down. Rosalie hasn’t, and that’s because she’s insightful. She probably noticed we’re weird about it.” Not-Zoey shrugged. “Or maybe she’s timid. She’s not the sort to initiate.”

Which was ironic, considering Rosalie’s demeanor otherwise. For being so confident and assertive, she really was such a bottom.

“Tell you what,” Not-Zoey said. “We can make a deal.”

“Deal?”

“If you let me do what I want to you … I’ll let you do what you want to me.”

Zoey digested the words, and her heart started slamming. “Meaning?”

“Let me play with both parts of you … and …”

“’I’ll get to …?”

“Fuck me,” Not-Zoey said, rolling her eyes. “Yes. This is a moment for personal growth. Pretty sure I’m dissolving into the ether after this is done, so what’s it matter how embarrassing it would be?”

They both paused. Like usual, Not-Zoey’s casual disregard of her situation was off putting.

“What do you say?” Not-Zoey asked.

Zoey bit her lip. “I …”

A teasing grin. “Come on. Don’t want to know what it’s like? Your own tight little pussy wrapped around your cock? The noises you make when you bully yourself to climax?”

Zoey laughed. “Fuck. I see why Rosalie likes it.” The dirty talk was pretty nice. And it did a good job at working Zoey’s nerve up.

“Well?”

“Okay. I … yeah. Deal. Fine.”

Not-Zoey scooted an inch closer. One of the hands she’d been using to jerk Zoey went lower; the other, higher up, to her cock tip, where she rubbed up and down, jerking off only the head.

Not-Zoey’s digits stroked at her in a way Zoey hadn’t experienced in a long time—or what felt like a long time. Her hips squirmed at the sensation of having both sensitive spots pleasured at once. And the fucking buttplug is still in. So three sensitive spots at once. It was … a lot.

Not necessarily in a bad way.

Having this done to her by herself—a clone, but still—made it easier. And having talked it out, too. Not-Zoey’s fingers played between Zoey’s lower lips even as her cock pulsed in pleasure from her other hand’s jerking motions.

“Ready?” Not-Zoey asked.

“Guess so.”

Not-Zoey pressed her middle two fingers forward, and she sank into Zoey’s slick insides. Zoey sucked a breath in. It was hardly an alien sensation, like the first time Zoey had played with her cock. But both at once … was definitely new.

“Wow,” Zoey said. “That’s, um.”

“Seems fun,” Not-Zoey said, grinning up at her. Both hands worked diligently, one curling and thrusting, the other gripping hard and jerking up and down. “Once you get used to it, seems like you’re in for some serious fun. Do you think they cum at the same time? Or separate?”

“Feels, um, feels like separate.” The two coaxing of her erogenous zones were happening at different speeds. Her cock was reaching climax faster. “Slow down up top, if we’re trying to sync them.”

Not-Zoey listened, working more diligently at her bottom than on Zoey’s length. Zoey closed her eyes and let herself be pleasured, throwing her head back into the pillows. Unsurprisingly, the idea it was herself thrusting her fingers and curling them around inside Zoey’s insides aided her in the growing heat. The more-familiar—or less?—climax started to build. Fuck. It feels so good. Why was I afraid of this?

“Make sure we get it right,” Not-Zoey murmured. “I want to see you melt. What’s your status?”

“Y-You can start going up top, again.”

Not-Zoey worked away. Zoey was briefly appreciative of her—her own?—skills. She’d really picked up a thing or two with how to work fingers. No wonder she’d had Rosalie in a blushing, incoherent mess. The things Not-Zoey’s fingers were doing inside Zoey’s pussy was totally unfair.

“Here it comes,” Zoey breathed. “Oh, fuck.” Her lower body was wiggling side-to-side of its own accord. “Lower, first. Then—then top is ready.”

Not-Zoey listened. Only when Zoey’s pussy started to spasm did she finally finish off Zoey’s cock.

Two simultaneous orgasms crashed through her, melting Zoey’s brain. She lost herself to the sensation. She whined and gasped as her body shook, then, with a thrusting-up of her hips, she emptied herself into the air. Not-Zoey’s stroking hands worked out thick ropes of Zoey’s baby batter. Her lower body spasmed too, clenching against still-curling fingers. Not-Zoey held eye contact with Zoey through the whole twitching, shaking mess. Why are we such a whore for that? Eye contact made things so much better.

Zoey collapsed in a sweaty mess against the pillows. She twitched with the aftershocks of such an intense double-crescendo.

Not-Zoey’s fingers slid from inside her. She raised them to her mouth and tasted the juice clinging to her digits, then sighed in pleasure. Zoey’s cock twitched as the display.

“See? Fun.”

“Little … more than fun …” Zoey breathed.

Not-Zoey cuddled into Zoey. Zoey wrapped her arms around her, snuggling in too. They basked in each other for a few minutes.

“This feels oddly metaphorical,” Zoey laughed.

By the snort Not-Zoey released, she assumed she’d had the same thought.

“Damn,” Not-Zoey said. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Now it’s my turn,” Zoey mumbled happily. “Just give me a second. Let her recharge. I want to enjoy this.”