Out From a Bender, Awake on Silk

Chapter 1: Out From a Bender, Awake on a Silk Bed

Isolation is a pit.

For what seemed like forever I couldn't climb out.

One too many times had I almost ended it all to escape.

I want out.

I kept repeating that thought, over and over.

Then, there was a thought of why, the thought of where, and the thought of how. Within that long purgatory evaporated, awareness having filled its place.

Somethings lie on either side of me, long and warm along my legs and arms, and they shifted. Brooke and Sylvia? God, I hope so.

Eyes fluttered, and I was greeted by the sight of something white, obscured in a blur as though it were a mirage... A white ceiling. Muscles shifted, numbed but alive, tingled with currents streaming from a center. Beneath, a soft cushion shaped and rolled with me... A bed. Something felt light under my head, like fresh snow on mountaintops... A pillow... Is this my room?

I felt naked... like, really naked.

For each movement, they moved, and they tenderly kissed. There was no ignoring it.

Tugging on the sheet below, rubbing it between my fingers, I was hit with curiosity: Since when have I owned silk? The sheet's hidden curls unfurled into a unified surface, and in the same motion there was an odd stretch in joints, muscles twitching and aching in an unfamiliar way.

The kissing... who's kissing me? One made pressure on my neck, a soft nudge and wet tap to its side. The other moved below, their lips firmly on the stomach with sudden, smooth haste. It was sporadic, from neck to collar, from midriff to hip, from thigh to base, feeding a sensation.

A soft voice arose from my left, almost song-like as a wind chime. "Hol eaara sabe-inway?"

As I shifted, the sight of a semi-blurred face came to focus, one belonging neither to Brooke or Sylvia. She gazed back with what morphed from sereness and uncertainty, her grey eyes having a sharpness that betrayed shyness. That very naked body sent my mind in a whirl, with tempered legs and arms sending warmth in me; one snaking behind my head, the other groping my-

My... breast?

Rising up afforded a better view of a new, round endowment, the movement having startled her. "Aur cudiexiysa uen?"

More alarm bells rang, a surging panic tugging against a growing heat. I have breasts... I have breasts?! What the hell?!

The other girl-for now she laid in clear view-resumed a relentless assault of my midriff, trailing to a...

Oh... oh!

From my nether, a large penis stood erect, much larger than from what I had remembered, falling just above my midriff; the tip wet, the length hard and full of heat with a girth no larger than a balled hand. It coursed with a flow of reserved, slow pulses, appearing as unreal as the scene before me... or tangled on top of me.

My hand instinctively brushed its end, finger tips coming away moist, sending currents straight to both heads. A penis... a large penis... and boobs -- What roofie-induced dream is this?

The sight of the other fair-skinned, still-kissing girl caught my attention, her lips eagerly violating its base. Bob-tousled hair hued as a strong wine, cared for in a way that exuded youthful life and artful taste, brushed subtly on either side of the rod in a rhythm. For the faintest of looks, our eyes met, the sight of bright pink irises and curvaceous brows promising commitment.

She trailed up and along the base of the shaft, the sensations of her effort dispelling any notion that this was a dream. The rational mind cried, begging for a slower approach.

"You're... oh... god?" I spoke. The voice that came from me, deeply feminine and of a middle-low range, was not mine.

Wine-for her name couldn't be known-giggled, her lips finally reaching the end, the mouth parting so the head slid in; its juices consumed by the touch of cheek and tongue, and of a brush inside.

"Oh god!" I nearly yelled.

The other, Eve, brought herself closer, breasts pressing into my side, legs and arms pulling tighter as soft lips again found my neck, then slowly down on the collar. Her energy surged relentlessly, an electrifying sensation that suffocates.

A breath and another utterance had been stopped, for Wine suddenly removed her head and in swiftness her lips met mine. "Oh-hmmph!"

Slithering in place, her tongue danced above mine. Leaning back had her following me, bringing the smell of fermented cherries. There was a taste of something sweet, feeling like caresses, and it lingered like mouthwash. Pushing in, it ran deeper.

Just as quickly, the kiss was broken, pink irises again boring into mine, and a voice low as a song of a cello began to enchant. "Loyie aur liefayrayadme sabe-inway, sarl cu hol rie."

"... I don't understand." What language is that? Chinese?

A cute, befuddled look took her. "Wynsas?"

"Winsaz?"

She giggled in response. Not Italian... Maybe a weird Irish accent?

Eve, from my breast, brought her hand up and cupped my chin. With a shift to our posture, new lips bore into mine. An aroma of something similar to cedar and palm oils filled the air, the scent a threatening arousal of another kind. The push and tug of lip and tongue grew fierce, and the taste was as similar if not more potent.

I felt incredibly out of depth, for kissing was a niche thing to me, and they outperformed, guiding with each nudge. It felt amazingly addictive as cinnamon sugar on challah.

In that distraction, Wine again engulfed my end, for the heat of a wet-warm brush could not be imagined. "F-fuck..." Burying my head into Eve had done little, save that the makeout momentarily halted, resumed by her insistence.

Containing that raging fire was a rhythmic effort, for the feeling of Wine's labors was its own push and pull. She seemed to have this inexperience, which was more than overcome by eagerness. Again breaking away from Eve, I chanced a look, witnessing her head slowly rise and fall, with dribbles of saliva sliding down my rod. The energy, the eroticism of this, threatened an explosion.

Oh shit... oh shit! Rising to release that pressure, Eve sensed my intention, shifting behind and sliding arms under me, raising my upper back. The other moved, relenting some of the rhythm for a moment. Our new posture left me kneeling, legs straddling thighs, leaning back and resting on boobs and a shoulder.

Wine pushed herself further, a cold sweat beading on skin and brow. Low and soft moans chorused, my hips rising and falling with her, my moans joining her song. Hold... hold...

Eve made a soft utterance, and the drain was unplugged, "Nusha?"

A heavy flow from the deepest reaches within me rose in fury, the inferno now burning along the whole of my length. Streams surged, filling her mouth as a flooding basin as my groans rose with the arch of my back.

She was forced away in a gush, coughing and gagging. It was a moment longer before the climax ceased, white streams dressing our naked display. Soon a mild euphoria, an animal-like pride, and rational shame bore down. "Oh fuuuck..." I uttered out of heavy breaths.

It seemed Eve had similar, choice words in laughter, finding amusement in this eroticism. "De Hul!"

"'De Hal.'" The words still felt strange.

Stunned, I examined what had left me: Thick, long splotches of hot cum as white as snow had cascaded on and before us, some on my stomach, fingers tracing through the substance. Any notion of cleanliness was abandoned when I brought the droplet close, feeling it as thick as molasses, smooth as jam, and odorous of something like pine and but not. This is so weird... so, so weird.

Wine seemed to have composed herself, the sounds of her struggle ceasing, brushing away white droplets from pink lips, scooping some off the chest, dipping those covered fingers in her mouth as though hesitant yet curious. The act proved as repulsing as it was erotic.

"Are... you ok?" I asked, the exhaustion fading rapidly.

The playful voice of Eve sang, the meaning suggested. "Rieff, naar lilic loyie ssaamie?"

Wine removed her wet fingers, swallowing as she shuffled closer before answering high pitched yet lightheartedly, "Ileaymil eaara!" In those pink eyes a hungry look stirred, gazing to mine then down, her hand trailing along her and through another splotch on her chest, down past her stomach and toward a lower region. A brief moan left her as fingers were inserted, signaling alarm bells.

A resolve arrived in earnest. "Don't," I begged.

Another white glob was scooped off of wet silk, rubbed into a mixture with her own saliva, and began messaging the rod. I forced her hands away with a gentle swipe and a firm voice. "Stop."

Wine looked up, her confident demeanor faltering, only to smile and giggle, again proceeding. Hands flew to bat hers away. "Stop!"

That playful smirk faded as she took in my expression, her eyes showing nervousness. Eve's arms grew loose, and the muscles in that bosom grew stiff. Both leaned away.

There was an awkward moment of silence, the kind you would have after a shitty, Broadway play. "Wynsas... aur 'miluryi?" Wine then spoke, drained of that sing-song melody.

Silence rang loud, for there were no right words that would bring understanding, and I suddenly felt like an ass; an idiot of idiots. The feeling grew worse as we sat motionless, as we waited for divine intervention.

Crap... Crap!

I twisted about, gently removing Eve in a way that conveyed forgiveness, clasping hands together, then doing the same with Wine's. "I'll be back, stay here."

Both watched as I stumbled like a newborn off the bed, collapsing onto knees and hands to a cool stone surface with an unrecognized pattern. Much of the room's detail was lost, my mind too erratic in a static whitewash of thoughts and 21 knot gales of emotion, too focused on trying to orient myself like an uncalibrated Boston Dynamics android.

"Loyaaraml rie tsaff fryo wiemv?" Eve asked.

It was an awkward stand, the shuffle to the nearest exit stiff; a closed, tinted glass doorway with no visible handle or knob. "I'll be back," I repeated, tumbling into a wall, jumping in surprise when the door slid open on its own. The leap through was less than practical.

The moment the door slid shut had the new room dimmed, illuminated by a pair of high windows. It was immediately brightened by warm ceiling lights, from orbs which sunk upward in inverted conicals. There above the sound of a subtle fan vibrated the air, a familiar noise in an unfamiliar environment. There was no guessing that I brought myself into a bathroom, rich with diverse materials, pulled straight from a modern architect's sketches; for all of the hallmarks of one were present, and then more.

I shuffled around, hugging myself as cool air ate away from dewy, hot skin.

The body I found myself in felt entirely off, as though I was in tight leather, or as an unwelcome parasite to a new host. All the proportions were wrong, the legs and arms stretching higher and reaching further than what a five-foot-eleven-inches asshole would be used to. More pressing was the issue of having a large dick and boobs.

I looked to the still erect thing, pushing it down in a vain effort for it rebounded and bounced harmlessly against my stomach, the tip barely touching the lower sternum. Down, down boy, down!

When a third attempt proved just as ineffective, I took to examining my new surroundings, a distraction as a way of anchoring a straying sanity. Nothing but a monolith of a shower and a curvaceous bathtub had me for more than a minute. It looked as expensive as a richman's Long Beach house, if quartz countertops, glowing mirrors, and metallic finishes are anything to go off of. The room smelled of redwood bark, the rocky surfaces polished but not smoothed, and it all seemed more artistic than practical.

To the front of one mirror, someone unrecognizable gazed back in that reflection. Her angular jaw and pronounced cheekbones were distinct but not pointed, with a nose defined and smooth. The head was accentuated with mildly sunken cheeks, skin layered as fresh snow over rolling hills, strong in fairness and unblemished. Eyes of cyan irises glowed for they were so brightly hued, promising the kiss of the coldest glaciers in the hottest of oases; and hair as white as marble, long and tousled, reaching past her shoulders, weaving like threads of cirrus clouds, dampened by sweat. Who the fuck?

She... I... Herself... Myself...

I absently grabbed one of the bangs to feel. Smooth...

Attention had drifted to the hands, less than filled but not without muscle, the palm and fingers longer than mine by a centimeter each. The fingernails were treated but not manicured, clean to a pinkish hue and bone white at their tips. Her palms were as calloused as a mountaineer's with several, subtle scars.

Moving to a full-body mirror, she was fully revealed. Slender was the neck, toned and smooth, merging with a pronounced collar and wide, mildly muscled shoulders; fused with filled arms that reach to a firm, oval rear, over hips as wide as the shoulders; a waist narrowing sharp and long as a boomerang; her midsection mildly chubby with a narrow moat running from sternum through navel; and a back as curved as a long bow. Her chest was large, supporting breasts the size and shape of half-cut melons, a tender fondle revealing that they were equally as soft as they were firm, their jiggle unexpectedly subdued for their size. Well shaped thighs and oval calves rounded and curved in a way that brought the shape of a long heart when paired with her ass; with feet that, like her hands, appeared longer than my own. Altogether, she rose higher than the tallest girls I knew and was built as an example of the perfect female form, beyond what an ideal fuck buddy would be.

And then there was the rod. The tip did reach below the sternum, extending from where lady parts should be, its girth smaller than a balled fist, and just below were balls the size of plums. Where hair should have sprouted around the base, it was smooth as silk, not shaven but missing, where a layer of some slippery gel clung instead (from lube, or from Wine's earlier spitballing?).

From her reflection, I felt and saw the rod grow harder. She must be God's secret fetish, if He has a thing for dicks on chicks.

She... I... Herself... Myself... It was like staring through virtual reality goggles, as though I am some pervert's avatar in his own private server, except everything felt too real.

This can't be me...

For 'curiosity's sake,' I had her strike several poses like those of the models in a 90s Playboy magazine. Is this what they mean by 'loving yourself?' Enrapturing as this is, she is the embodiment of contradiction, one that set my mind whirling as to what-the-hell kind of gender she is. She couldn't be he with a voice of bells and flutes, nor with the body of a bikini model, especially with dat ass. If not woman, then why woman shaped? Did the rod promise otherwise? If so, why the boobs and curves? And shouldn't I... she be more emotional?

The rod was firmly grasped for another pose, her body leaning sensually on the counter with an exaggerated curve of the back, bending the sex off to the side. Was she some sort of hermaphrodite? A dickgirl? A futanari?

At the risk of impropriety, one of those guesses was tested, for she bent down so that a hand could reach under to feel, the reflection doing wonders with the bent rear and jutting breasts.

... Nope, not hermaphrodite. Standing to her full height, hands grabbed for and rubbed the shaft, the thing pulsating once in reaction, and a moan left her lips.

With that sultry voice, I had her speak, uttering a string of words with no greater purpose other than to test her range, speaking soft profanities low enough so that girls next door would not think of me... of her as crazy.

She... I... Herself... Myself... I am her...

Slowly yet suddenly, vertigo took me. I leaned against the counter for support with a hand to my head. What happened? What am I? Who am I!?

Damp eyes and a headache soon came to me, giving way to constrictions to my chest and stomach with the mind starting to race. Breath, my rational self called out.

Counting to three, over and over, my sensibilities creeped back. There are worse fates to awaken to, I reasoned. You could have awoken as a blob of pure pain with no mouth, a prisoner of Russia for smuggling weed, or that chick hiding from Jack Nicholson in a bathroom. Waking to fellatio is not one of those.

Slowly, that feeling of horniness proved to be a solid enough anchor within the storm inside my head, and soon I had regained some control.

Out toward the entrance, past the door's tinted window, I looked out. Only the corner of the bed came to view, the girls just out of sight and out of temptation. It's not a proud moment to panic in the midst of sex, not while yearning so badly for it, a desire for flesh on flesh, breast to breast, and curve to curve. The feeling persisted since I escaped, tempered by the fear that pregnancy would result. Had there been condoms, or if there was only oral or foreplay, things would be different.

I took several more calming breaths, still trying to banish that panic.

Condoms... bathroom...

Searching the drawers and cabinets, I found towels, toiletries, medicine-I assume medicine, yet the linen and paper packaging proved difficult to read-and many things you would find in a well supplied bathroom. The sight of Trojan, Magnum, or any number of brands had eluded me, and the thought of using birth control came to mind, only to be dashed as I realized there would be little to no means of knowing what was and wasn't birth control. The risk of harm, that a fentanyl-laced drug, would knock me on my rear, was unsettling. It, also, wasn't as though I could approach Wine or Eve and ask for help (and even if I could, that would kill the mood).

Wait, am I even capable of getting them pregnant?

... Should I even risk finding out?

There was a moment of thought. No, absolutely not.

When my search yielded nothing, I moved to the center, my hand brushing bangs of white away from my eyes. Well... there's a choice to make. I hardly knew Wine and Eve beside their physicalities and personalities, much less certain of what their intentions were. They are strangers. For all it seemed, they may be simple women under sunlight, or prostitutes under red lights, and they were more than willing for intimacy. The sight of Wine blatantly inserting herself with my fluids would be any guys' nightmare, and she must have known what that entailed. This is insane. She is insane. They are both insane!

Why am I still raging hard!?

The danger was its own excitement, a show of affection from lust, a bonding born of sin. It was wrong, a forbidden carelessness frowned upon, and it felt thrilling. It didn't help that they were both attractive, and that this was one of my very few moments with sex. Deep down, too, is the desire for love, and I knew this to be a desperate path to it.

My heart sank as I thought to myself: Stop... I have to stop.

This whole situation is fucked. There was nothing in my surroundings that made sense. My new appearance made no sense. Nothing made sense.

Just stop.

From a nearby sink, I wiped myself clean, swiping a towel from a nearby hanger and wrapping myself just above my midriff so that the rod was covered. It was not wide enough for everything, but it gave enough decency.

I looked back outside. How the hell am I going to do this? Do I just tell them to 'leave?'

Was this even my place?

To the entrance I approached, the tinted glass remaining in place. Wait... how does this work?

I waved my arms around like an idiot, thinking there was some sensor that controlled the door, for there was still no button or knob to use.

... Nothing... oh, wait...

At the left of it, a square outline shone a dimly lit orange, surrounding a white tile. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the wall, signaling a clear message of 'press me!'

My fingers barely touched the surface, and in an instant the outline changed to green, and the glass slid back into the wall. I passed through.

Walking through felt automatic, as though a scene in a dream that was forced to play out. It was complete dissociation, in a sense.

Only the greater details of the bedroom were now present. For a master bedroom, it was an impressive, spherical room, with a pane of thick glass running along the front of it, where beyond the afternoon horizon shuddered into evening hues, the stars arriving in earnest, and where other things remained, those which I had no desire to study; a portrait of a painting you would be proud of but forgot long ago. Much of the bedroom was sparse, save for that large, ovaloid silk bed, and for the girls on top.

Both had taken notice of me, where before they were enraptured by the horizon, the sound of the sliding passage alerting them. Either appeared restless and waiting, somewhat decently covered by the stained silk sheets, our scent wafting from there. Either had gingerly curled alongside each other with Eve's back laid bare, and with Wine's endowment exposed and voluptuous, having waited, waiting for me.

This will be hard.

Wine was the first to voice, "Thelamein, hol eaara rieff?"

Very hard.

I stood my distance, crossing my arms. "I can't have either of you here. Do you understand?"

It was then Eve twisted about, exposing her breasts to me as though it were casual, a no big-deal display. She bore a deeply confused and concerned expression, eyes staring owlishly at mine. She said nothing.

"We... can't do this," I repeated, staring at another entryway, one of completely tinted glass.

There was another moment of silence before Eve answered. "Loyaaraml... eaara hol col dsarsa lirli. Diriangie rie loyaaraml aras lutsryo Nabeora."

Wine pulled her friend close, whispering something into her ear, as though sharing a secret among friends. The exchange was long, but shifted the strawberry blond's expression, like a reaction to gossip of a sorority.

In my awkward wait, a realization dawned on me: I could just leave. It might very well be the case that this was their home, and I was their guest. It wasn't as though they were holding me hostage... right?

But where would you go, doofus? Do you even know where you are?

I looked out toward the window, now desiring some landmark that would indicate where I was, again only met by the evening horizon and distant landscapes... Is that a forest?

Repeating myself, I caught their attention, "I can't do this. I have to go."

Both seemed to gaze at me, now with wondrous expressions. Wine spoke, her voice seeming to intone a question, "Eaara hol cvrianorsa Uml Irlsa, pphes?"

I shook my head, "I can't understand you." I can barely understand myself. I pointed to myself, then slowly toward the window. "I. Should. Leave."

She was slow with her next word, like a foreigner to a new tongue. "Ould Er'da?"

My expression changed, for the words sounded familiar. She seemed to take my reaction as an answer. "Saryimu, Angelo?"

This is going nowhere, I thought, brushing white strands away from my eyes. "I still can't... Christ, we're talking in circles," I finished with a chuckle-murmur.

Eve suddenly removed herself from Wine, throwing the silk sheet away as it fluttered daintily to the bed, her delicate feet landing softly to the warm floor. She practically dashed to me, and I had moved back for us to stand no more than a foot away. A new, firmness filled her eyes.

I noticed just how lithe she is, and how pretty her face is with small cheek bones and a round jaw; white skin blemished and mildly beach-tanned; a mouse-like nose with a crescent bridge; and beige lips, smaller than full that could sing children to sleep. Narrow are her shoulders, wider are her hips, both meeting to a small waist and modest, shapely breasts. It was though she ran as a passion, and she made herself aerodynamic in the pleasing of ways.

From my height I had to look down to her, her head falling just below my nose. For someone so fragile yet muscled, she was relatively tall, her pear shaped body eliciting a primal fury.

Oh no...

I felt my nipples harden, legs and arms stiffening, my breath strong, the phallus surging in heat as Eve's hand reached, her palm resting flat in the valley between my breasts. Inch by inch she brought herself closer, and I was turned to stone, the eyes of Medusa having pierced me. I gazed deep into those dark eyes, dark eyes that are grey, dark eyes that begged, dark eyes that pleaded.

Damn you, and damn you to hell.

She stood close enough that our bosoms touched, her other hand slowly undoing the wrapped towel. I could feel how hard her nipples were.

"Lou-ve?" She struggled to say.

Fuck it.

Our lips met, and a surprise yelp left her. Our tongues lashed and tasted, teeth biting on lips as our heads pushed and pulled, her taste of cedar and palm oils flooding in me as heat into stone. I felt the towel forcefully removed as both my rod and body pressed into her, our passion unobstructed and free.

Wine made a triumphant laugh, murmuring something in that sing-song voice of hers. Over Eve's shoulder I briefly caught her excited yet mischievous eyes. Oh... you'll get your turn, you Harpy.

The girl's arms constricted around my neck, forcing us closer as our hips pressed roughly, forcing us to a shape, my hands reaching for her rear and grabbing, feeling smooth and firm like the rest of her. On her tip toes she raised herself, and in one swift motion, with me as leverage, she hoisted herself into a straddle, locking her legs above my lower spin. The heat of her own lower region, the taste of her mouth, and the energy we shared, sent me wild and stumbling back.

My head connected with the wall in an audible thump. "Ouch!"

Eve buried her head into my shoulder, trying to stifle a laugh and snort. As soon as the pain receded, our foreplay resumed in earnest.

At some point, Wine forced herself into our tangled mess, having herded us to the bed by the tug of her delicate hands. Eve remained straddled to my waist, her hips sliding forth and back along my erection, her fluids mixing with mine as I sat us on the edge. All three of us exchanged kisses and hickeys, playful touches and gropes. It took every ounce of will power to reserve myself.

Wine brushed close to our ears, whispering low and energetically, "Syvis, adff wir eaara hol wir turtogayrie muryp, adff wir xiysas eaara rayff gie wir bierpse mayermie gp'afl su wir uencvpsa!"

Removing herself from my nipple, Eve huffed with wide eyes and whispered next to my ear, "Thelamein, ay sad egala turtogayrie muryp, ay rayff re gala nnaymlpier mayrie sa bierpse mayermie gp'afl. Ay rieau eaara ayr die."

Uuuugh, fuuuck. "Yeah baby, that's it, keep singing to me. Keep whispering to me. Let me hear you scream!"

She chortled, again burying her head into my chest. Crap, that sounded sexier in my head. "Ay tsarcol orliramsarl eaara. rie tsar gholme orliramsarl rianonn uxiyir," she said.

Removing herself from my neck, Wine backed away, allowing me to stand and lift Eve with strain, higher and higher to where her head was above mine. She sensed what was coming and angled her lower self, my very tip touching her ass, shifted to her very wet sex by her friend's assistance. Excited, aren't you?

I slid her down, and both of us moaned. Oh hell! Hold!

An inch down, past her parted lips, and she was already babbling silly, laughing to herself as though to slapstick. "Uw hul, ays aur heth, heth, heth, c'af'afu heth! Nuuusha!"

Another inch down, her moans grew more labored, her inner walls clamping tight on my inserted shaft. I gritted my teeth, barely holding it in. "F-ffuuuck! Not so tight!"

Another inch down, she started to shift, her nails digging into my back, her head pushing into the nape of my neck. Her channel only grew more narrow and hot. Hot. Hot.

Another inch down, her moans became pained, filling me with worry that I had pushed too far.

Too far?

I looked down, seeing just how far I went, seeing how far her lips had parted from my girth. Holy Hell, she's a champ! "Are you alright? Does this hurt?"

She muffled something into my shoulder.

"Okay... okay. How about this?" I twisted about, shifting us so that Eve's back was to the bed. I placed us gingerly on the mattress, Wine scooting to the side as we stayed as one, myself bridging over her. That seemed to bring her relief.

"Ararsmie duloe," she hushed in a cocky smile, eliciting an unfeminine snort from her friend.

"Araasmin duh low," I tried repeating, to which both started laughing at me. I'll be here all night, fuckers.

I started pushing back and forth, my rod rubbing all along her inner fire. I noticed there was a bulge to her lower midriff that followed the length of my cock. Is that supposed to happen?

In response, she spread her legs and tucked her ankles behind my thighs, arms again snaking around my neck, mouth agape in pure ecstasy, constricting me like loose rope. Her eyes glowed so fully they brought me closer, so fully did I see her peak. "How does that feel? Are you close? Are you close?"

She uttered a long moan in response. "You better be close, you better cum, because I will."

Back and forth I moved, and I felt her walls grow tighter. Back and forth, she bit her lip, trying to hold in another string of moans. Back and forth, off to the side, her hand reached for her friend's, and they clasped tight.

Perhaps it was a grunt I made, perhaps it was my sudden lift that hit a g-spot, perhaps my rhythm finally broke through, perhaps it was all of it, for she curled into me, hips thrusting as her fluids flooded past my rod, a series of screams and pure, blissful laughter bringing me to release.

"God!" Damn!

It was one thrust to another, then a slow halt that was demanded by my body for an unobstructed stream to her deepest reach. My hands clenched the blanket on either side of her. I dipped lower so our breathing was a hair width away. I groaned lowly, she sang slowly. Our climax was powerful. And it lasted.

And lasted...

We soon both crumpled like a poorly built, Link N Log house, either of us panting heavily. We laid there motionless, caught under our flood, drowning and gasping for air.

Minutes of pure bliss passed, and I felt a subtle tapping on my shoulder. Eve muffled something in my bosom, clearly struggling to breath. Ah... oops. Shifting my legs I rose, repositioning so that I knelt. She shone with a sheen of sweat and other fluids, her hair ruffled but tamed. The girl's breasts heaved for one breath after another, her laughter filling the gaps. This has to be gay, I wondered, viewing my endowment and inserted rod, eyeing the fucked-silly Eve and our mess. Naaah...

Wine adjusted herself, hugging close to my side as Eve's mirth melted to a string of singing profanities, "Fotr... Fotr... Naame nnpayam... Naame hul... Naame naame..."

"Nahmeee..." I parroted, which elicited another snort.

I was tugged by my chin, for Wine's grasp was firm as she took my lips with her own. We fell into a slow rhythm, more deliberate and electric than Eve's fire and passion, our tongues caressing each other. Her taste and scent reignited the inferno. Huh... already?

In a sudden surge and low moan, I allowed another series of streams to leave me, liberally filling Eve in a way that caused her to moan, and at her lower lips something else started to leave her.

Wine had sensed what was happening, and in parting our kiss she spoke huskily, "Eaara hol giesa litauayloy. Csary cudie fryo die." With one hand cupping my chin, and the other splayed on top of her friend's midriff, where my rod rested, her mischievous eyes narrowed to pink slits.

My eyes danced along her every corner and curve, gazing at pink lips that could whisper your dirtiest secrets over a jaw more v-shaped than round. Her breasts-defying gravity-strongly round and pronounced out toward the sides of her biceps; the areola and nipples as wide as my thumb; uplifted by wide shoulders and a firm waist to subtle hips; her frame an inverted pear with definition in all that mattered.

I had separated myself from the strawberry blond in a slow and smooth motion that was much less painful for her than I would have thought, our fluids leaking from her widened lips. Without our connection, she adjusted herself so that she remained firmly against the bed's headboard and pillows, languidly spreading herself for exhaustion had taken her.

It was next to her that Wine had placed us, pushing me to my back so that my head rested on Eve's outstretched arm and the pillows below, angled in such a way that the phallus stood full and straight, its layer of semen and sweat glowing in the room's now dim, blue-hued lights. Wait, weren't they yellow before?

I looked around the room, noting that through the window, the landscape and horizon now fell under the domain of the night sky, the stars twinkling over fading red and blue strands of disappearing light, piercing the backdrop of barely visible, purplish and red clouds. Is that you, Milky Way?

Have we been going at it that long?

She again grabbed my attention with a kiss, her hair tickling my eyes and cheeks. It had been so gentle that it was enticing, just as her words were. "Fayff die s'af?"

I groaned, biting my lip involuntarily, feeling her enchantment returning within me in earnest. My rod stiffened straighter, bending closer to my stomach, and in noticing this she turned predatory. How the hell do I have this much stamina?

Leaning back, she positioned herself so that the base of the phallus was pressed against her at her base, legs straddling firmly to my hips, and began sliding up and down; and I could feel just how wet she was, how she churned my fire. I grabbed her thighs, for slowly did I move to her dance, slowly and deliberately as a dancer. We were content like this, for a long while we cherished this, caressing each other, leaning in for kisses and bites, building and building. This wasn't a sprint, not a marathon. It is a stroll through Oregon junipers, and she bent and swayed like one in wind and snow.

Eve, at some point, buried herself into my neck, her arm wrapping around to fondle one of my breasts, every so often pressing her lips along my side that sent sparks through me. I nudged us closer, her head nestling against my shoulder as she observed. "Naar lilic xiysas fadam?"

"Ays fadamc prianom... fotr!" Wine uttered between sighs, pushing herself and my rod forward, pressing us tight together as her arms snaked under mine and around my neck, forcing us into a kiss. It was strangely even slower, more passionate, more caring, as though sharing lolly pops.

Our makeout lasted for mere minutes, our lower rhythm unbroken, which seemed forever and yet it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

She bent her head, exposing her decadent neck. "Aur xiyaur h'afl? Hol eaara h'afl?"

The answer had me pressing myself there, gently biting. She was silent, but pushed in, her scent seeping into me. My love taps trailed along her side, tasting her breast, licking her chest, searching her midriff, for she slid further and further forward until I could feel the end of my sex press into hers "Tsar eaara ssarie die?"

My only response was a grunt, a nibble and a kiss. I felt a hand adjust my rod, its tip placed firmly against her lower lips. She pushed herself back, and I slid in. She moaned, I moaned, we moaned. Another inch in, her breath hitched. She was tighter than her friend, her fire burning me as badly, so badly. Another inch, her breathing became excited, and she cursed in a pretty song: "Fotr... fotr... fotr!" Her hips rocked, a slight nudge here, a small push there, and a massage here, compensating for our inexperience. Another inch, and she cried out, an octave higher than I was comfortable with.

I started to lift to ease her, but she pushed me down, her glowing, bright glowing, soul-filled glowing pink eyes looking down on mine. There was pain but passion. "Amirian!" I heard her breath. I simply nodded dumbfounded.

Deeper and deeper she pushed herself, her cries interspersed with pleasurable sounds. Inch by inch, and she had reached my base. Slowly, she sat up straight, swaying again in a juniper's motion, gently lifting, nudging forth, pushing back. Hold you sonofabitch. Hold...

She stared down at me with half lidded eyes, pink eyes. The swaying remained, a dance to an invisible wind, pronouncing a bulge in her belly...

I... can't!

Streams were released, my hips bucking smoothly as I let out a low moan. I kept looking at her, watching to maintain composure, keeping herself in motion, her only reaction a subtle grimace. It couldn't be helped. This felt right.

Even as I collapsed, she persisted, and in several moments she found her own release, her very walls clamping down on me, a hot fluid seeping down along with my own. It was a silent pleasure. Gracefully, without removing herself, she lowered herself onto me, using my chest as a head rest, placing tender kisses along my collar to lips. "Mmil die pieam... Lu col eaara lhol dury..."

Unsure of what to do, I remained there, trapped as a fleshy bed for someone I had almost certainly gotten pregnant. In that post-nut clarity, I should have been ashamed. Rather than dwell on should-haves, I wrapped us in a hug, twisting to the side so that Wine was sandwiched between me and Eve who had taken to pressing herself against us. Legs intertwined, arms snaked and settled, and we filled our gaps, and we all fell asleep.

At some point, my mind stirred to the press of familiar lips. I responded by nudging forward and grunting sleepily, hearing a faint whisper, "Xiysarr eaara."

"You're welcome," I hushed back.

I woke up at some point, believing earlier to have been a dream, but the feeling of two warm bodies dissuaded that notion. The night sky was so dark it must have been midnight, yet past the window the horizon glowed an eerie blue. It wasn't city lights. It couldn't be that.

We still remained in a heap, though at some point Wine and I had separated. I couldn't remain there, and slowly I untangled myself much to their grunts and protests. I didn't bother to find clothes.

I was really hungry... and parched.

My eyes adjusted easily enough to the dark, and there were faint, night lights along the base of the bedroom's walls that guided my foot steps. The door, not the one to the bathroom, was easily recognizable, and so was its interface-a similar white pad like the other, though with a strong red outline.

Simply pressing the pad wasn't enough. I don't know what I had done, but within a minute, it flashed green, and the passage silently opened.

The new space was large and open, the floor that same polished, textured concrete, the room bending like a semi-sphere. Far off to the right I saw chairs and a long table dimly lit. A dining area.

Next to it, appliances and countertops were arrayed. The kitchen. I strode toward it, rounding its island counter space, fixated on a bowl of enticing fruit... or something which looked like fruit.

Lights from hanging conicals illuminated to a dim, warm hue. I thought one of the girls had followed me and had switched them on. A gaze around showed that there was no one here, so it must have been automatic or sensor related.

From the bowl, I picked up something that appeared shaped like an avocado. It was colored bright red, like pastel red on a painting, feeling ripe and smelling delicious. I bit straight into it, the thing bleeding purple, its meat tinted blue. It tasted like olalliberries, a sweet reminder of a pie I had once in traveling the Central Coast.

One fruit after another I consumed. One had the texture of bananas, tasting like apples. One had the aftertaste of pine but smelt of roses and baked bread. My last one was thin as palm leaves, yet the meat was tender and smooth. Half of the bowl's contents were gone when I finished.

Cleansing myself and drinking heavily at a nearby sink, I noticed that the water tasted different, nothing like what came out of San Diego's water pipes, as though it was from frozen ice cubes. Odd... less fluorides? Maybe no chlorine?

... Did I just drink dirty water?

I was satiated, but not satisfied and deeply troubled (and not about the water). Going back into that room is not an option. Not yet.

Pulling out one of the island's stools, I plumped myself down, leaning forward on a polished countertop, thinking.

The fact that I was having deep regrets about earlier did little to unfuck my mental state. I had let myself loose, letting hormones get the better of me. I was terrified of what would happen. I'm not ready to become a parent... I wasn't even ready for a committed relationship, let alone with strangers.

The court system is going to fuck me.

It wasn't just that which troubled me. It wasn't even my highest worry.

What happened to me? You'd think such a change in a body would be memorable, but it wasn't. Why not? Had I been fucked with? Did God decide to screw with me? Was this some lab experiment? Was I always like this?

Who am I? Doubt drowned out any answer that could be had. I had a life before this, whatever this is. One night I'm partying with friends, bar hopping and clubbing, and the next moment I'm here. Was that all a dream, or did I body snatch someone unwillingly?

I tried retracing that night, trying to remember faces and friends.

Xander... Juane... Adam, I smiled to myself from the thought, fucking assholes.

Brook... Sylvia... Haley... crazy bitches.

... Where are they?

Where am I? This isn't my apartment. None of what I saw belonged to me. Everything seemed rich and yet strangely alien. The fruit had definitely tipped me off on that, and the way almost everything is designed had too many subtle curves and stone and not enough sharp corners and drywall.

Was this really a rich man's Long Beach home?

I stared toward a nearby window, one more narrow than the one in the bedroom. If the other faced north, this one was more westerly. The eerie, blue glow from before came through it, giving a tint to the floor and walls like a god ray through clouds. I hadn't looked outside much. What was out there?

To the window I approached, eagerly taking in the scene outside. There was something that shone bright beyond the horizon, what it was I couldn't see. But, below, there were buildings, roundish, geometric complexes several stories tall with narrow streets, illuminated by dim lights. I saw gardens, parks, and a wall that surrounded this place below like a keep. It was too dark to make out anything else.

This doesn't look like Oceanside.

Turning around, my gaze fell upon a shiny, metallic entrance that seemed functionally similar to that of the glass doors. I noticed it as soon as I walked in. It is a double wide entry way, with two panels meeting at a center, made in a way that it invites you to step beyond its threshold. A way out.

Where would you go?

Just outside. Only a peak.

I approached it with a quicker stride than before, excitement and worry pooling in my chest. Am I really doing this?

I am doing this.

My hand reached for the whitepad, outlined in a red line. It flashed...

... nothing.

I tapped it again, trying that gesture I used in the bedroom, and it flashed again.

Still red. I looked at the entrance. Still closed.

Again I tried... nothing.

Are they keeping me here?

Where the panels met at the center, I placed my fingers, prying and pulling. It would not budge.

They're keeping me here...

Stepping away, I gazed at the entrance to my cage. There has to be another exit.

In adjacent bedrooms, bathrooms, a washroom, a rec room, a gym(?), and others I couldn't recognize, I looked for another exit, bouncing around like an animal trapped in a cage. There were three others I saw, all of them locked.

Ending up back in the large room I had started in, my head spun. Part of me was convinced that there was some sort of key I was missing, or that this was some misunderstanding. You don't lock guests in against their will, part of me reasoned.

I'm a prisoner.

No, there's something else going on, I thought as I lightly slapped myself. At the very least, this is a misunderstanding.

Back to the bedroom's entrance I looked, realizing just how tired I was. I needed to sleep, but part of me felt repulsed since that meant I would be among them. You're not going to fuck them, you're going to sleep, I reminded myself.

I felt my lower appendage pulse. Stop it.

As I entered, both girls were as I had left them, Eve snoring in a cute way with Wine's chest rising and falling to silent breaths. I had noticed the wet blankets had been tossed aside. It was warm enough that they weren't needed, as though we slept under a mild tropical climate.

Before I could snuggle between them, the horizon beyond the window captured my gaze. I felt my stomach drop, my blood freezing, my heart skipping at that dream-like visage, letting my feet drag me toward the window.

I stopped a few feet away, gazing at a blue gas giant dominating the night sky.

...

...

... WHERE THE FUCK AM I!?