Malcubus Ch. 07: Getting Closer

"Considering what we've done already today, it's amazing I can still get a boner at all – gagh!"

Rosie laughed and her tail flicked the sensitive underside of my cock again. "You're getting better at dirty talk, by the way."

"I, uh, was actually making a point with the recap. Dates, going out with you... they tend to end embarrassingly. I'm kind of dreading what you'll do tonight when alcohol's involved."

"I'll just get my bad urges out of the way first," she said, and kissed me one more time. "Which means making you cum. Put your hands behind your head, lean back, relax."

I definitely wasn't relaxing any time soon, but I put my arms up on the back of the couch expectantly. Rosie raised herself off my lap with the help of her wings and started brushing feathery kisses down my body: on my chin, my neck, my nipples, down my belly. She leaned her head to kiss right above the base of my shaft, then slowly came up above my cockhead, opened her wet mouth and... blew on it.

"Damn it to hell," I groaned, "you're killing me here."

She nudged my painfully solid prick with her nose, making it bob, and dipped a finger in the precum glistening at its tip. "Gosh, you look a bit overstimulated, master," she said, a hand slipping beneath me to massage my buttocks, the other on my thigh. I muttered something unprintable, which turned into another groan when spit bubbled between her lips and her warm drool dripped onto my prick. "I told you to relax, didn't I? Close your eyes if it helps," Rosie said, nosing her way further down. She kissed my supercharged balls a couple of times before taking a testicle into her hot mouth, sucking gently. Her hands were massaging my thighs and ass, moving lower, teasing but never reaching up to my cock. Then my ballsack came out of her mouth with a wet plop and she moved further down, kissing my perineum gently, further down...

"Rosie," I said warningly, looking down at her horned head.

"That's my name," she replied, planting kisses between my thighs.

"And that's my ass."

"I know," she said, tickling it with her tongue. My balls and cock obscured most of the view, but the light in her eyes told me she was grinning. "Kinky, right?" Then she swirled her tongue, impossibly warm and wet, around the crater of my sphincter.

There were plenty of things I could have said, but my teased, tormented cock had me so damn horny that it was hard to voice an objection. Especially when her hand snaked up to hold my cock gently in teasing fingers. Especially when her tongue started to push forward harder.

***

CASSANDRA

"For the last time, stop trying to set me up," Cassandra told her phone as she climbed the stairs.

"You've been single for three months!" her friend squeaked. "That's, like, an offense to blondes everywhere. And Doug's real nice, he's trying out for the State team!"

"Look, Alice, I gotta go," Cassie said, kicking her runners off outside the bathroom. "I'm home, I stink, I really need to shower."

"What's the point of having your body if you treat boys like – "

Cassandra hung up and listened out for any sign of Eric upstairs before shucking her tank top. A shower definitely sounded good, but she had a stop to make first.

Afterwards, she turned the shower as cold as it would go and just leaned against the tiles for a bit. She was spending too much time at the gym lately. She'd be going to uni in another month, and if she completely forgot how to talk to boys before then she'd be in trouble. Maybe this Doug character was worth a shot? Funny how hard it was to get enthusiastic for a date, considering how ridiculously horny she'd been lately. Releasing her blonde hair from its ponytail, Cassie raised her face to the water, warmed it a little, and soaped herself slowly, massaging her sculpted ass with particular relish.

She was also spending too much time in the shower lately.

Suds dripped off her as she rubbed soap into her hips, her flat belly, up between her ant-bite tits. She frowned as she looked down at her feet, seeing nothing in the way. Mum might have blessed her with most of the good genes, but some capricious god had made sure she and Eric got the same chest. It had taken incredibly hard work to even get on the cheer squad at all, and now she'd be in a whole new peer group facing a whole new group of insecurities. Damn it. She tweaked her nipples half-heartedly, and bent down to find her vibrator. Her little blue friend had seen more use in the past week than several months before that. As soon as it was buzzing against her pussy, Cassie couldn't be bothered worrying why. She twirled her hair around a finger as she rested against the shower wall, gently sliding the vibrator in and out, occasionally pressing it directly against her clit.

Why couldn't the guys in high school make her feel this good? Hell, why couldn't Richard make her feel anything like this? Cheating pig. Maybe Alice's friend actually would actually be different, but maybe not. Guys were... fun, but not necessarily worth it.

Cassandra idly fantasized as she masturbated, closing her eyes under the water. A footballer; he'd be tall, then. That'd be good; half the guys she met stood on tiptoes around her, literally. Hopefully he was an ass man... She squeezed her buttocks a little, then moved her hand up to her tits regretfully. If only.

Now Alice, she had a pair of tits. Nothing objectively impressive on their own, but her short friend had such a tiny frame that her D-cup knockers looked positively pornographic. Cassie moaned a little in jealousy as she thought of her friend's body, imagining the shower water soaking them both, outlining their forms.

One's tall, the other's tiny. One's got tits, the other's got ass. Together, they fight crime.

Cassie pulled the vibrator out completely and pressed it against her clit from the outside. The buzzing seemed to pulse through her whole body, and she threw her head back in pleasure.

Fuck, Alice, what do we need boys for?

She squeezed her own ass harder, but that was the trouble with solo play – not enough hands. Cassie wanted to hold the vibe against her clit, thrust fingers into her pussy, grab her own ass, and squeeze some big, fat tits -

She sucked in air through the water droplets and writhed against the tiles, feeling the buzzing of the vibrator in her bones as she moaned. For that moment of orgasm, she could almost feel Alice's nipples between her lips.

For that moment of orgasm, she could forget to question these new feelings, forget what men were like and forget that asshole Richard, and just cum her brains out.

***

With work at 7am tomorrow, Cassandra would be spending her Saturday night at home being boring. At least that it made it easy to distract herself from all these new feelings. She donned comfy shorts and the ever-reliable Generic Tank Top(TM) and made her way to the living room, intending to enjoy some Netflix on the couch. Surprisingly, there was a girl already doing that.

"Oh, hi!" the redhead said. "You must be Cassie, right?"

"Uh, yeah," the blonde replied cautiously. "Nice to meet you, random stranger sitting in my house."

"Shucks, did Eric not tell you?" The strange girl paused the TV and sprung up from the couch like a jack-in-the-box unwinding. "I'm Rosie, I'm a friend of his. He just went out to get takeaway, he said it was fine if I finished this episode here..."

"You... are a friend of Eric's," Cassie said slowly, sounding out the words as if they were in a foreign language.

"Yep!"

Cassandra blinked a couple of times at the proffered handshake, and the girl behind it. She didn't look threatening or anything, but it wasn't every day your geeky brother brings home some teenage... wow. Cassie realized she was staring and shook her head. "It's fine, it's fine, I just didn't... Eric isn't friends with many highschool girls." Or tall, skinny sexbombs. Or many girls at all.

Rosie giggled and shook her head. "I'm actually going to uni in a few weeks, I just moved in from way out wherever for it. And I only met Eric this week."

That would explain why her brother was running in and out of the house all the time, then. He'd made a friend. Cassie wondered whether she'd friendzoned him instantly or she was just oblivious to his drooling. Speaking of drooling, you've been staring at her cleavage for about ten seconds now.

"I'm actually going to State too," she said, finally shaking the redhead's dainty hand. "It's a good school, right?"

"Oh, I can't wait," Rosie said, grinning infectiously. "We'll probably all see each other there."

"And you met Eric recently? Uni doesn't start for almost a month."

"Oh, I was happy to move early. Home was hellish compared to the big city," Rosie said breezily. "Anyway, do you want to watch something? I won't be here for long, Eric's taking me out to meet his friends soon..."

"No, it's fine, I actually like this show."

"Great! I'm almost finished the episode, I've been binge-watching this for half the afternoon. TV is awesome, isn't it?"

Cassandra plonked down on a recliner as Rosie landed on the couch with the grace of a dancer. "You haven't seen this?" she asked, nodding to the cartoon spy on the screen. "It's been pretty popular for a few years."

"Oh, I lived way out of the pop culture loop," Rosie said. "I wasn't kidding about being from way out wherever – flyunder country, you know? My folks thought Paradise Lost was the only comedy anyone needed."

The TV went back on and Rosie settled in for the last few minutes. She laughed at every joke, and her giggling sounded like an angel being tickled. Normally Cassie would be boiling with jealousy at someone so much hotter than her sitting on her couch, but tonight she was getting hot somewhere else. How the hell could Rosie carry that rack around? Her frame was so tiny, but those tits... she wasn't wearing a bra under that Who Framed Roger Rabbit t-shirt, was she?

"Nice tee," she said, blushing, when Rosie noticed her staring.

"Thanks," Rosie said with a cheek-crinkling smile. Cassie tried to look back at the TV, but Jessica Rabbit was staring at her from the redhead's chest, pointing her microphone directly at the outline of a nipple.

***

MOIRA

In the past, it was Eric waiting nervously on the street outside her house. Tonight Moira was the one drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

It wasn't like she was actually worried about seeing him. Nobody was excited by Eric, much less intimidated by him. Nervous anticipation wasn't something she'd ever felt in their friendship or relationship, but it was probably a very reasonable thing to feel at the moment.

Going crazy should make you nervous.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sterling silver crucifix. It was her father's, of course; it would be back in his dresser by the end of the night with him none the wiser. Even now, she didn't really know why she'd taken it. Just old superstitions, right?

Demons. The dream had been about demons.

Moira laughed a little, although whether at the crucifix or herself she wasn't sure.

When Eric's car pulled up beside hers and honked, though, she practically gave herself whiplash. She pocketed the cross and got out of her car as he parked and stepped onto the footpath to talk to her. "You really shouldn't say hi with a car horn," she grimaced, "from right next to people."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "You, uh, are you okay Moira? You look... on edge?"

"That tends to happen when you say hi with a car horn from right next to me... Look, it's fine. I'm fine."

"Sure," Eric said. It seemed like he didn't know what to do with his hands. After a few moments of twilight silence he asked, "So, how've you been?"

His conversational skills crashed when he was nervous. Most of the things that made him a great friend didn't seem to appear when he was actively trying to court her. But surely they'd moved past that, right? "I've been..." Moira frowned. She was the one with a right to be nervous. "Okay, I guess. We cleaned up the mangroves a couple of weeks ago."

"Saving the planet, one hideous lizard at a time?" He winced at her expression. "Hey, you know I think all your activist stuff is cool. I was really asking about..."

"Am I still keeping a dream journal?" Moira shook her head. "Don't worry about that. I just... we were friends our whole lives, Eric. We shouldn't have just stopped talking."

"Okay," he said after another long period of silence, and jerked his head towards his front door. "Do you want to talk inside?"

A little bit of something pleasant warmed her belly, calming down the butterflies a little. She nodded. "Sure."

They grabbed the noodles from his car and headed in. Eric was opening the front door for her when he frowned. "Oh, damn – look, Moira, maybe tonight isn't the best time for you to..."

"Eric!" someone called from inside the house. "Cassie said I look too slutty in this..."

Moira turned, and coming down the stairs was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Eric, thankfully, was too busy ogling the gorgeous redhead to see the flashes of confusion, denial and fear on his ex-girlfriend's face. "Oh, fuck," he whispered at the girl's clothes.

"You see, that's the reaction I'm looking for!" the redhead said, nodding in approval. She was wearing a slinky clubbing outfit that might have been appropriate for someone three sizes smaller; the leather miniskirt was more like a belt than anything else. Every step down the stairs sent her breasts jiggling almost out of the sequined top. "But your sister said I'd look 'easy', which isn't really – who's your friend?"

Eric finished pinching the bridge of his nose and looked over at his ex, who was staring up at the redhead with a frozen expression. "Moira, this is – "

"Rosie," Moira whispered.

"Hey, you got it right!" Rosie said as she bounded down the last couple of stairs, making a mockery of modesty with every movement. "Eric must be getting better at introducing me," she said, and gave Moira a friendly wave from a few feet away. When the brunette didn't respond, she looked back and forth between the two and bit her lip. "Oh, right," Rosie said gravely. "This is one of those socially awkward moments."

"She's just a friend!" Eric blurted without any context. Turning an interesting shade of pink, he passed some of the noodles to Rosie and tried to usher her back up the stairs. "I'll be up in a minute, but Cassie's probably starving, can you get these upstairs, thank you, okay, please go away..." Even trying to reassure his ex, he couldn't prevent himself from staring at Rosie's leather-wrapped ass as it was sent bouncing back up the stairs. That obliviousness was so typically Eric that it brought Moira back to her senses.

"Your tongue goes inside your mouth," she muttered.

"Mm? Gah – damn it. I really did want to talk to you alone, you know. Without, uh, you know."

"Your new girlfriend around?" Moira asked, eyebrow raised.

"She's not my girlfriend," Eric protested weakly. "Not really. She just – she's new in town, she wants to go out drinking and see the big city, other people will be coming, it's not anything like what you think..."

"Forget it, Eric," Moira sighed. She might have sounded bitchy, but bitchy was better than terrified, and Eric couldn't find out how fast her heart was beating right now. She forced herself to breathe normally, too slowly and too shallow, and said, "this was fun."

He went a little pinker. "You said you had something important to talk about, right? We can still do that. Let's just get some privacy, and – "

"I can't – I need some time to think," Moira said, though what she really wanted was to not think at all. Don't think about how real Rosie looks exactly like dream-Rosie. Don't think about how your ex is having sex with someone way hotter than you. Don't think about how seeing him again is making you -

She made her excuses and left. Eric protested, but what could he really do, or say? He had never been exactly authoritative, and right now he looked like he just wanted a hole to crawl into. God, she felt bad for how embarrassed he was, but that was what he got for sleeping with some skanky skank like...

Moira felt an absurd urge to giggle. Here she was, seeing the future in her dreams, and she was obsessing over petty normal-teenage-girl stuff. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe.

It wasn't until she was sitting back in her car with the doors locked that she felt brave enough to check her pocket. You're being stupid, she told herself, pulling out her father's crucifix. There's no such thing as demons.

But the sterling silver cross, now tarnished to a filthy bronze and scorched around the edges, disagreed.

+++++Closing Notes+++++

Thanks to everyone who stuck around during the delay in posting. This update took way too long; real life is a bitch that way, and I'm having great difficulty writing this stuff in chronological order. At least there's plenty of material to post, if and when I actually wrangle it into a coherent narrative. The next chapter should appear within a day or two of this one, at least; it's written and uploaded, and Saturday night isn't finished yet...

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