Four writers for the price of one blog
by Willamina Rose
Freshman English 101
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“Oh my God!”
“What’s your emergency, Mam?”
“What do I do?” The teen girl’s skin steamed and the sudsy smartphone almost slipped through her fingers. “We were just playing around!”
“You need police, fire, ambulance?”
“Put her on speaker phone,” groaned her boyfriend. He was in the soapy water, the girl was on top, knees squeezed around his hips and against the sides of the bathtub.
“Hello?” asked a woman’s voice.
The girl unsteadily balanced the phone on the bathtub’s edge.
“Mam, are you there?” the voice asked again.
“We’re in the bathtub!” cried the girl. “Oh, I need a miracle.”
“Okay, can you describe your emergency, Mam.”
“We– My boyfriend– ” The girl exhaled a strangled growl of pleasure as she ground the furrow against the broad underside of her boyfriend’s cock, trapped against his abdomen.
“Are you there, Mam?”
“It’s in the water with us!”
“What’s in the water, Mam?”
“Could I please have your name and address?”
“Fuck!” The girl cried in frustration. She bit her lips and rubbed her pussy against his cock, feeling its heat and thickness for the first time, there, between the folds and furrow of her pussy, a cock’s length beneath her belly button. Her fingers dug into her shoulders and she closed her eyes. She pressed and her hips swiveled. “How do I stop it?”
“Mam, if I could –”
The girl shouted her name and address with a burst of impatience.
“Looks like you’re calling me from 6180.”
“It’s my Mom’s number!”
“I’m sorry Mam, but are you18? We –”
“Just tell me how to fucking stop it!” the girl screamed. “I’ve never done this before, okay? Fuck!”
“Alright then, Mam. Could you please describe your emergency again?”
The girl leaned over and kissed the boy. The kiss was hard, harder than she’d ever kissed before and her hips were doing all things she’d always thought they’d never do. The tentacles were tightening around her legs and his. They were plying her legs apart. They were holding his groin under her. They were drawing the teens tighter and tighter together. A tentacle was around his balls, squeezing and massaging them. Another choked the base of his cock, noose-like, while the tentacle’s slender tip teased the eyelet. The girl licked his lips as she moved back and forth on the thickness between her thighs – new, foreign and needfully familiar. She grunted, her mouth fell open and she stared at him when his fingers joined the tentacles at her nipples, engorging them just like they choked and engorged his cock. They were hard, vulnerable, and they fell into his mouth as though they had always belonged there.
“Are you there, Mam?”
“Yes,” moaned the girl. Her lips wet and her eyes half closed. She rubbed her clit against the tip of the cock.
“What’s going on, Mam?”
“I want it inside me.”
“Excuse me, Mam?”
“I want it,” she breathed, “his cock, I need it inside me.”
“I understand, Mam. If I could just get you to tell –”
“I’ve never had a cock inside me.”
“They got into the water with us!”
“How long have they been in the wat–”
“Oh!” The girl suddenly stiffens and reaches for the bathtub’s edge, arm stiff and straight. “I feel the tip! I feel the tip, it’s–”
“His cock, Mam?”
“No! The tentacle! Up my– Oh! My ass!”
“Can you stop it?”
“No. It’s inside me. It’s in both of us! I can feel it going inside me. It’s going everywhere!” The girl straightens, holds her own breasts, and moves her cunt back and forth on the boy’s cock. “It feels so good. I can feel it tickling my womb. Oh God, it’s like the tentacles are opening my legs from the inside.” She tilts her head back. The ends of her long wet hair strafe the base of her coiling spine and the tentacle pushing and pushing ever more thickness into her ass. The boy’s hips, seeking her belly, rise and fall beneath her.
“Can you reach the faucet, Mam?”
The boy sat up and drew the girl’s lips to his, his hand at the back of her neck. Another tentacle twisted around the slender girl’s waist and the tip made inviting circles on the flat skin below her belly button. Her own arousal, his sweat, and the smell of soap filled the bathroom. The mirrors dripped and bubbles splashed over the sides of the tub, soaking the bathmat.
“Mam, you need to turn on the cold water.”
The girl tried to left her arms but the tentacles circled her wrists. “I can’t!”
“I’m sorry, it’s the only way to make the tentacles go away.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“The cold water, Mam?”
“His cock is so big,” she groaned. She glided over the length of it, from tip to base, until it glistened with suds and her own invitation. “How can it fit?”
“Mam, do you have a shower in the unit?”
“No. I don’t know. Yes.”
“You need a cold shower, Mam.”
“It’s lifting me up,” sighed the girl. “I can’t help myself.”
“Mam, if you want the tentacles to go away, you have to turn on the shower.”
“His cock too,” she whined. “It’s pointing his cock straight up, straight up between my legs. Straight! Oh, straight up! It’s so long. It’s so big!”
She rode her clit around the top of his cock. Moisture glazed the plump spade already slipping back, with each swirl of her slender hips, into the slippery divot behind her clit. She held herself by her arms, elbows locked, arms and thighs weakening.
“Mam, are you there?”
“Oh it feels good. It’s slipping behind my clit. I can feel the head pushing, wanting to push me open. I want it so much. The tentacles are trying to pull me down. They’re everywhere.” Two more tentacles pull the boy up out of the water. They draw his mouth to her breasts. Instead of a tongue, the tip of a tentacle parts his lips, opening them wider and wider as it snakes between her breasts, upward around the nape of her neck, drawing his lips against her throat.
“Why do I want him inside me so much?” She inhaled with shock. A man inside her for the first time. Her clit was in free fall as her hips closed around the thickness impaling her. Her head fell back once more and this time something like a tentacle and tongue twisted and spiraled upward out of her mouth. Her hands fell to the boy’s shoulders. She felt the fur of his groin on her clit and his rigidity in the soft curve of her abdomen. She wanted to explain how good it felt, how perfectly it fit her, how she had no idea it would go inside. How it stretched her. How it hit places she didn’t even know about. Instead, she rose, and fell, each descent like an exclamation: Here! Here! Here is where it belongs!
“Mam? Are you still there?”
Her voice was punctuated by the thing’s length. “It feels so good.”
“Mam, it’s a trick.”
“I need to come.” she panted, knocking the phone into the soapy water.
“Mam, you need to turn on the cold water!”
How could she explain? She needed to come on his cock. She wanted to know how it would feel inside. She pressed her clit hard against his groin. The tentacles abruptly squeezed, binding them together, refusing to let them part. The girl came. She ground against him as if forgetting the stalk embedded behind her clit, already pulsing in her womb. She fell forward, her smallish breasts and large, engorged nipples brushing his cheeks. The tentacles withdrew back beneath the suds of the steaming water as the lovers recovered, eyes half-lidded, their glistening bodies slack and heaving. She sat upright but remained in his lap.
“You didn’t,” she eyed him.
But she couldn’t lift herself. She yearned for the shape of him in her womb, the stretch of her pussy round the base of it, even when she knew the answer. “Did you come in me?”
“It’s not cute,” glared the girl.
“So,” said the young woman’s guidance counselor, “I was forwarded this little short story by Miss. Terpinfurgle.”
The girl crossed her arms.
“I don’t think this is the place for this kind of writing, do you?”
The girl looked away.
“Is there another reason you wrote this?”
The young woman squirmed in her seat. “What if I’m pregnant?”
“Have you read this in class Willimina?”
“It’s the truth!”
The girl’s counselor folded the story in her lap. She stared, then leaned forward, a gleaming yellow pencil between her fingers, her chin resting in the palm of a hand. She tapped her chin with a long, shiny, avocado green fingernail. “And this? – This is your explanation?” she asked, quietly.
“It’s true! Every word of it! It’s –” The girl gasped, suddenly quiet. “What was that?”
“I saw something behind you.”
“Miss Ro– ”
“You’re a beautiful young woman.”
“Willamena, have you ever licked a woman’s pussy?”
“Like a tenta– Wait. What?”
“Look at the tip of the pencil.” The red-haired woman flicked the pencil’s backside with the tip of her fingernail. “That’s it. Look at the little light, my dear.”