Chapter Text
The living room looked like the victim of a nuclear blast. With the pillows, felled by war, thrown across the room and toppled, it left the heart of the mainland, the couch, as Bodhi's only lifeline, his savior. Sat between he and a tall, feminine woman, who eyed him with an lustfull gleam, not one of sex, but for the thrill of game, the young man was wielding the TV remote.
“Back, heathen!“ He slashed his blade, threatening a decapitation. “Advance forth, and taste my steel, woman!“
She leant over the couch, narrowly dodging certain doom. “Oh, when I catch you, hubby....“ She purred, practically licking her chops, “I'm going to devour. You. Whole.“
The imposing enemy force, easily quadrupling the size of the pillows, suddenly leapt over and onto the couch. Spurred on by fight or flight, he threw his plastic short handed weapon at her before making a dash for the kitchen. Shoes scuffled across the wooden floor, giving chase. His heart pounded in his chest, giving it a last hurrah before certain death. He could feel the beat in his ears. He found himself giggling with equal glee and terror.
Bursting through the door, he slammed it shut with a loud bang and pressed himself against it, holding the handle as it jiggled in his grip. He held it there for a long moment. His hands were growing clammy, and he was losing his grip. He quickly wiped one on his legs, a fatal mistake as she burst through, knocking him against the kitchen counter.
His hands searched his sides, the counters - anywhere he could reach - and found himself holding the tool of utter destruction, capable of dismembering his greatest foe.
Carrots.
He held it between himself and the girl. Her head, full of oceanic blue and reaching down to the not-so-subtle cup of her breasts, were tussled and messy. The red stockings were falling down to her calves, brunching up, and one of the buttons on her shirt had been undone. She was steeling herself, readying her mind and soul for the glory of the kill, eyes - the same as her hair - held a feral gleam, wide and beady.
“Hey, no knives! That's dangerous!“ She whined, pouting as she grabbed the toy hammer off of the dining room table. “What, you scared of a little bop?“ She giggled, brandishing her melee, spinning it in her grip. “Well, you should be! Drop the knife, let's see how you handle a head shot. Chicken.“
He put the holiest of weaponry down, furious with her and his warming cheeks. “I'm not a chicken. You're going to hit me real hard, aren't you?“
“Maybe.“
“Mita.“
“I will.“
“That's better.“ With an abundance of courage, as well as knowing his fate had been sealed from the start, he knelt before her, and was quickly struck on the back of the head, his execution ending with a loud squeak.
He soon rose to his feet, rubbing the base of his neck, groaning like he'd been the first of the dead to rise. “Jesus Mita! That actually hurt!“ He hissed between his teeth.
“Aw, Mita's sorry....“ She cooed, dropping that terrifying look in her eye, lowering the hammer and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. “How ever could Mita hope to make it up to you, big guy?“
His masculinity, cut off by the balls, had him grumbling softly. She stood on her toes, looking up at him, a delicious spark connecting between them. Squeezing his neck, he whimpered. “I - I said you could kiss me!“
She was only too eager to oblige, and gave him a warm, soft kiss on the cheek, leaving a cool glossy imprint of saliva, after having licked her lips with glee. He could still feel her lips on his skin and, as she stepped off the pedestal that were his feet, he pressed a hand to his face and a weak smile blessed his more sculpted features.
“There! Doctor Mita saved the day.“
“Mhm... what do I owe ya, doc?“
“A kiss of my own, obviously.“
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he grasped Mita's wide hips, using them as handle bars, pulling her flush against him. A good head shorter, she held her head high with stubborn pride and puckered lips, moaning softly as he held her chin and gave her a proper, affectionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around his back, feeling up his soft back through his shirt, kneading the hints of muscle she found. He gave her sides a tentative, possessive squeeze.
Pulling away, her eyes soft and her face, a delightful, subtle pink he often loved when the sun would set, as well as looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “You've paid twice what's owed, sir.... but no refunds, got it?“ She murmured, pinching his cheek before expertly wiggling out of his grip like an ever elusive cat.
“Don't worry, ma'am, I won't complain.“
She grabbed her hammer again and, gently this time, struck him topside. “Well, you were earlier, you big, sensitive baby.“
“It actually hurt, and you know it!“ His eyes wandered the room, falling upon the knife again.
“Don't even think about it.“
He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Don't.“
“Alright, I won't....“
Putting her weapon down, she took her boyfriend's hand and lead him back to the war zone they'd made. The destruction was more than what they'd intended for, tenfold. Paintings were crooked. The simple table, flipped onto it's side as a shield against the barrage of teddy bears that lay at its feet, corpses. The ceiling fan was circling lazily, giving the couple a gentle breeze.
“Alright, enough playtime! Let's clean up and, if you're a good boy, hubby...“ She gave him a peck in the same spot as before, sauntering off to one corner of the room with a seductive sway of her hips, “Maybe I'll reward you?“
He couldn't tear his eyes away from her behind. It was a herculean effort, and he had the strength and will of a slobbering wolf. The way her bum, barely kept secret by her short skirt that fluttered and shook with every step of her long legs, looked quite nice.
So, the good little boy he was, he cleaned up his half of the mess. He just couldn't find it in himself to complain, even if the east had been the instigator of this war, as well as the victorious, executing him samurai-style. History was written by the victors, but he wouldn't mind being remembered as the great general who fought till the very end, and died with honour. That, and he kept sneaking a glance at her, across the room, feeling the blooming warmth in his chest grow, devouring his heart whole and taking up residence in his ribcage. She's just so god damn beautiful, he thought to himself.
Pillows in hand, she bent down by the waist to pick up the final one and, with a knowing wiggle of the hips, finished her end of the job. Tossing them onto the couch, she put them back in their rightful places on either end.
“Hah.... I'm tired, hubby. Huggies.“ She sat on the couch, arms wide and ready to receive.
He eyed his work. “I'm not done yet.“
“Later.“
Not one to disagree with a woman, he put down what he was doing and descended upon her, his body against hers as they collapsed onto the cushions in an impromptu cuddle. They held each other tightly, his face in her cleavage, feeling the heart beneath give him one hell of a concert. Her hands tangled in his hair, twirling with the long, brownish fur. Then, she leant over slightly and took a good, long whiff.
“Weirdo.“
“Not my fault you smell so nice, baby.“
“It is. You're the one who makes the shampoo and conditioners appear.“
She felt no need to respond. Mita felt only the need to sniff it some more. And maybe playfully chew on it, which had him looking up at her with a frown.
“This reminds me of a story. A somewhat funny one. Maybe you'd like it.“ A moment passed. “Maybe you won't.“
“Tell me.“
“Okay so first, you are familiar with the concept of sisters, right?“
“Mhm. Somebody like you, except they're a woman, and they're supposed to either bully you, or be bullied by you, depending on age.“
“You get a degree for that, Einstein?“ He kissed her collarbone. “Anyways. Before I... got sucked into my phone, and got where I am now, I actually had a sister. Her name was Alice. Skipping a lot of stuff, we took her to a horseriding place for her birthday, once, and a horse bit her leg.“
“Why did it do that?“
“She had a flower embroidered on her pants. It just really wanted to eat a flower. You, uh... chewing my hair reminded me of that.“
Her grip tightened, grabbing a a big fistful.
“Me wanting to chew my hubby's hair reminded you of a horse. Eating your sister's pants.“
He knew he'd messed up, but he was too deep in the pool to dive back to the surface now. “Um.... maybe.“
She let go, and gave him a gentle slap on the head. “Mean.“
“I - I wasn't trying to be mean! Listen, you were doing your usual weird person stuff, and it reminded me of a somewhat funny story. There.“
“Good. I'm your weirdo, and you better remember that.“ She kissed his head, and was content to keep quiet and cuddle for a good, long while.
So much so, the raw beam of orange that shone through the windows began to dim and fade like the embers of a fire by the time the two, having woken up from a nap they hadn't meant to take, shifted awkwardly off of each other. His cheeks had the faint imprints of the seams of her button up shirt. Rubbing his eyes till the blur was anything but, he tested his focus on her face.
“Have I ever told you you're cute, kitty?“
“Hundreds of times.“ She stretched to the heavens, giving reason as to her nickname.
“Well, it's true. Deal with it.“ With a playful huff, Bodhi stood up and walked out of the room. The bathroom was modern and slrak, as well as efficient. Bending over the sink, he let the tap water run and fill his mouth, washing out the weird, dry taste in his mouth. Filling up his hands, he splashed some on his face and looked at the mirror.
Loo-king good, you son of a bitch, he thought to himself. He was tall, remarkably so, with long, attractive legs. He was wearing some plain blue jeans, a black top, and a light brownish jacket, the sleeves pulled halfway up his forearm. He kept his hair shoulder length and, with wet hands, slicked the front back and went to dry them off with a towel.
Bumping into Mita as she went to use the bathroom too, he made his way to the kitchen, flicking on the kettle and pulling out the two dirty mugs he'd stowed away, hoping she wouldn't notice. Cursing himself, he quickly washed them and filled them with the appropriate coffee and sugar cubes before the kettle screamed at him like a PE teacher with a whistle. Those memories would forever be ingrained in his psyche, whether he liked it or not.
He'd been busy stirring when a pair of hands wrapped around his chest, giving his breasts a squeeze. “Hey.“
“Hi.“
“Coffee?“
“I love you.“
With a chuff of amusement, he handed her a mug. “I know, kitty. I love you, too.“ He took a sip. And then another. And another. This repeated a few more times till finally, his mug had been emptied, not having uttered another word. “That was a damn good nap.“
“I know....“ She hummed. “We should take them more often if they're all like that.“
“4pm is almost always the best time for a nap.“
“I'm setting an alarm for that, then. Daily nap times are a thing, now.“
“Dope.“ He held his fist out, and the two gave it a strong, incredibly masculine bump.
“So.... we'll probably be staying up tonight. Coffee, and all.“
“Indeed.“
She gave him a look he recoqnized, feared, and loved. She was giving him a flirtatious, needy look, the fires beneath beggining to pick up in intensity. His inner fireman always feared he could never slay that fire when it popped up, but his organs were all where they were meant to be.
“Hopefully you don't mean.... now?“ He asked, found himself swallowing. “Because, like.... maybe we could play some more games? Watch a movie? Or - or even eat-”
“You're so cute when you're floundering, hubby. Fine. I could be convinced to wait. Rock. Paper. Scissors.“ She dared.
“Ready to take on the champ again, pipsqueak? Oddly reminiscent of just a few days ago, you know. I won, just putting it out there. Incase you forgot.“
“Oh, I didn't... but I don't mind taking on the champ. My champ.“ She hung onto his neck. “Win or lose... I'm taking on the champ.“
He felt himself melt into insignificance, the irony in their size difference not lost on him. With an embarrassed grimace, he played - but the champ was number 1 for a reason! Best of 3, he won, and destroyed her even during the bonus third round. Her hopes, crushed like puny flowers!
“Oh, fine...“ She mumbled. “What are we playing first?“
He eyed the toy hammer on the table, as well as the oversized, red button, unfortunately not hooked up to a nuclear missile silo. “You've hit me enough today. If I don't hit back, painlessly that is, that'd be considered domestic abuse. Now it's my turn.“
The two pulled up the chairs and sat down. On either side of the button was a counter, with 3 hearts each. Each time it was pressed before the opponent, the winner could bop the other and deduct a health point. They turned on the timer.
3.
He kept his breathing steady, focusing purely on the countdown. He could sense the warmth of his breath on his chest, as well as it's intensity, ready to blow a storm.
2.
A bead of sweat dribbled along his forehead, and his fingers ached to grab something already. The annoyed grumble of his belly told him he was hoping they had a bag of snacks, so he could grab a potato chip and eat it to quell his nerves.
1.
He made an instinctual move to slam down on the button, but the countdown canceled itself, and began anew. Mere numbers had played him a fool. It would not a second time.
And as it turned out, it did. Twice. The next two countdowns, once it reached zero, he smashed it, only to be bopped for his mistreatment of the toy, considering the screen showed an orange X. At an insane disadvantage, he managed to turn the game around and, finally, almost cave in her skull with the plastic head of the hammer. He still lost, at a scoring of 1 - 3. With no injuries, besides the obvious bruising of his pride, he stood up, and begrudgingly offered her his hand.
And so, despite her seeming reluctance and impatience, the two enjoyed their evening long into the night, hooked up to the Internet, cuddling on the couch some more. The played some fighting games, danced some and, once they were both hungering for the same thing, Bodhi switched to a porn website.
Scrolling among the videos, Mita kept her hands to her face, peeking between her fingers with quite the blush, murmuring quietly as he chose a video for them that suited their craving for the day; a woman with, of course, womanly curves, dressed like a schoolgirl with the white shirt, little red tie, and a shirt blue skirt. In third person, they saw the man, fairly handsome, as even Bodhi admitted, struggling to mount her because the bed kept shifting.
He had her skirt raised over her wide hips, dripping core exposed, flicking against the folds with his cock. He seemed to enjoy himself, tormenting her till she finally started begging. With a pull of the hips, he sheathed himself as Mita and Bodhi settled in besides each other, the air filled with the usual curiosity and awkwardness.
Mita's breathing hitched when the girl squirmed and came beneath the man, and Bodhi gave an appreciative purr as said man pulled out, shooting meaty ropes onto her generous bum not long after.
“Bodhi, I... I can feel your thing...“ Mita murmured, her back pressed against him. His head had been resting on her shoulder. They traded flickering eyes, sizing the other up.
With a gentle hand, he reached over, taking hold of her chin and forcing her to look at him at an angle. She had come prepared, lips pursed as they met, the world darkening beyond what was possible as they focused merely on each other. Her lips, plump and symmetrical, tasted like strawberries, which he appreciated. One of the best scents and flavours a woman could have.
She grabbed the back of his head, pulling him back in for another kiss as he pulled away, and this one quickly grew sloppy as, tentatively, she spread her lips, his tongue snaking out like a bolt of lightning, coiling around hers like a bermese python, in the throes of strangulating it's prey. Her cavern was warm and slick, everything inside moving effortlessly, sliding like a professional ice skater, slipping off just as easily. He took more, drank the saliva she provided, gave his own, and the hand melted off of her perfect face, dribbling down towards her generous bust, giving a pillowy breast a bold, possessive squeeze, rewarded with a delighted moan.
He could feel her nipples hardening underneath, transforming from soft, almost flat flesh to something hard and stubborn, pleading for the torture and pleasure of lips and fingers. Diamonds in hand, he pinched gently, and twisted clockwise, almost unscrewing her tits.
Her breath was raspy and deafening, small hands pushing insistently against his chest. Her lips were moving beneath his, but he heard no sound besides what sounded like a wounded animal.
“Stop...“ She moaned, “Cuddly bear... stop...“ She squealed, gas poured onto her nerves and set alight.
He took it as a challenge, squeezed them harder, feeling her squirm in his grip, but she did little to escape, taking only to non-committal pleading of mercy.
“Cuddly... bear...“ She breathed, and finally gave him a hard shove against the chest, breaking free of her imprisonment. “I said... stop... like, five times...“ She glared at him, though not a lick of malice or spite could be found beneath the ocean of need that were her eyes.
“You were just too cute.“ He reasoned. “Do you want to take it further, baby?“
Eyes, dimming with challenge, had her quickly out of the room, leaving him to bite her dust and follow along like an obedient puppy. She had scurried off to the bedroom, and was already on top of the white sheets, presenting herself like the woman in the video, skirt hiked up over her wide hips. Only her light pink panties kept her womanhood safe from his smoldering look, her defenses falling to the wayside as he settled onto his knees, yanking them down to the edge of her thighs.
Mita's pussy was drip feeding the bed a dose of liquid lust, seeping from between the folds of an unshaven cunt. An untamed wilderness of blue beckoned for it's mate. She wiggled her hips enticingly, offering her womanly curves as sacrifice to her beloved, and he grabbed a cheek, grip tight and demanding, keeping her still as he fished out his own privates.
Cock in hand, he slapped the sheathed head against her crotch like a door knocker, his breath growing heavier. Mita had her face buried in a pillow, muffled whimpering filling the silence as well as the ambience of faint squelching.
“Fuck, you're gorgeous...“
“No swearing...“ She lifted her head, wheezed, and bowed her head again in submission.
Rubber band stretched taut, his hips inched forth, the head barging in between the fat folds of her vaginas like the unstoppable force of a tornado. She tensed, easing with a delighted moan as he pushed deeper, sliding in almost effortlessly into her sloppy fuck hole. She kept her head buried as he slowly rocked his hips, taking her gently. Grabbed hold by her velvety fist, he grinned, the skin of his meat retracting, dragged back by her tight flesh, the feeling almost burning his dopamine receptors into uselessness.
He leant over, and began to pick up the pace. The ambience had shifted in pitch, an almost deafening concert encore of carnality as her huge ass clapped against his pelvis with powerful strokes. He was reaching very deep in her belly, practically tickling her cervix, eager to please his woman.
“M-More...“ She lifted her head, hair as messy as a wall of vines, “Harder, baby... please...“
He leant over, grabbed hold of her throat, a soft, feral growl escaping his throat as he obliged her. Harder, the thrusts grew in aggression as he properly railed her. He could feel his balls tightening, her walls clenching, magma welling up in his guts, a spreading warmth in her belly. They were close and, with a howl, he pulled out, quickly stroking his cock as he shot fat ropes like they'd watched earlier, clearly a prodigious painter in the making as his seed splattered against her flawless softness.
“Hah... Hah...“ She groaned, her body, which had trembled like an arthritic hand when she orgasmed, now shook softly like a cool drink during an approaching earthquake.
“God, that was... Mhm...“ He closed his eyes, grumbled softly, “good. Damn, that was good...“ He shifted to the side of the bed, picked out a tissue and crunched it up in his fist.
Mita didn't object to him cleaning her up, soaking up and erasing the evidence of their lovemaking. She'd still feel the warmth on her skin, the claim on her body, even when it's long gone. The fur of her cunt was drenched and, pulling out another tissue, he cupped her pussy, dragged the paper along, drinking up her juices. Between her thighs, underneath, the bedsheets had a considerable patch of dampness.
Though thoroughly tuckered out, they quickly changed out of their clothes, settling into comfortable pajama outfits for the night, with hers being pink with long sleeves while Bodhi's was the equivalent of a pair of boxers.
Before long, the king sized bed was a grave, housing two fresh bodies beneath the warming cocoon of blankets. The final thoughts that swam through the player's mind was that, outside, it felt much too cold and inside, he had all that he would ever need, even if he'd wake up to discover the pair had metamorphasized into a beautiful butterfly. Or a creature straight from The Thing.
Hands, resting on her abdomen, with hers resting on his, they slept quietly, as they always did. This world, it was perfection. No troubles. No struggles. If you knew how to screw in a screw, all subsequent screws would already be done. And if you could fall asleep, you damn well wouldn't wake up without a valid reason.
So, when he felt his entire world shake, his eyes fluttered, looking up at the nervous face of Mita. “Somebody's knocking...“ She whispered. Sure enough, two rooms over, there were sounds being made against the door. Small, quiet, but insistent. There'd never been anybody knocking at the door, which had them on high alert. Getting up, he motioned for Mita to maybe grab a weapon while we went to check.
The closer he got, to the fuses and the front door, the louder the sound got, but hadn't risen beyond what would've been deafening. Twisting the knob, he opened the door, and had been met with the sight of a small child, her head reaching only up to his hips. She looked up at him with a lone eye, and a lonely right arm.
She'd kept her lips pursed tightly but, at the sight of Bodhi, she allowed herself a weak smile, and reached to grab his hand, which had him reeling back. “Player... it's you...!“ She murmured happily, and reached for him again, grasping his fingers.