Virtual Reality: Pokemon D/P Ch. 8

Not to be outdone, the various noodles draped over the other woman resembled nothing more than chain mail. I couldn't identify all of the various types of pasta that were intertwined to create the impression of skimpy fantasy armor. The noodles that composed the bra and panties were only warm. The handful of bowls of steaming sauce on a separate table were clearly there to add heat if I chose.

I didn't need warning that use of that particular sauce would constitute beyond the boundaries of "vanilla". It would hurt and likely cause minor burns. Fortunately, I wasn't much in the mood for pasta, with or without sauce. Iwas in the mood for one of the sub rolls that seemed to be tucked into her belt like daggers.

That little shift was enough to cause the cohesion of the lower "armor" to collapse. Where moments before there was the image of impregnable links, now she lay bare before me. A small voice whispered in my mind, surprised that the hint of stubble that hadn't been thoroughly shaved was as Crayola blue as her hair. Apparently itwas a natural color in these lands.

Absently, I flipped open the roll with one hand while the other slid down her body. Her tummy was the first thing to clench at the caress of the palm of my hand. Her whimpers became constant beneath the little circles I massaged as my hand began to quest downward.

I admit, I didn't put forth much effort. I was more interested in stacking a sandwich than playing with her. Fortunately, she'd worked herself up nicely while she awaited her turn. She nearly came the moment my hand delved between her legs. When my fingers plunged inside of her, with the ball of my palm pressing firmly against her clit, pasta flew everywhere. Seizures wracked her body even before I finished stacking meat and cheese onto the bun I'd liberated from her.

Despite playing second fiddle to my appetite, I didn't immediately let up. I enjoyed the way the blue-haired woman writhed around my caress as much as the sandwich I began to eat. Her legs twitched back and forth, uncertain whether to expel or embrace the intrusion that produced such exquisite torment.

Too soon for her tastes, I pulled my own hand free in answer to her body's unspoken confusion. Without that lifeline, she collapsed bonelessly to the table, the last of her energy spent. Fantina had mentioned that all of this was just foreplay, anyway.

I suddenly realized, as I hadn't before, that everything I'd already done might have just gotten me in very deep trouble. The moment the meal was ended, I might have four very luscious, very horny, junior trainers jump me in an attempt to get some back. Well, at least I'd left two of them barely able to move. The cute blond with small breasts might still have the energy but I could ensure Xena, here, was too sated to cause problems if the desert I expected to come wore me out.

When I wandered to the end of the table she lay on, all I could see between the huge mounds of gravity defying breasts was a dusty-blond tuft of the woman's bangs. I could tell, from the way that her hands gripped the sides of the table, that she was a tense contradiction of anticipation and nervousness. She had seen, and heard, what I'd accomplished with the others but now I had found the one place in the room where she could no longer see what I was up to. If she so much as lifted her head her whole "outfit" might fall apart.

I didn't help the conflict any when I leaned over the table and reached out to grab her knees. As artful as the placement of the meats and cheeses had been, they suffered the same weakness that the chain mail carbs had. When her knees were forced to the edges of the table, the skirt fell apart and sliced meat scattered everywhere.

It wasn't until I climbed onto the table that she could see me again. Her eyes widened and both warring emotions gained strength. Her hips already quivered. Her rosy pink bud practically leapt out at me. Her legs, now hooked over the sides of the table, shook with the need to close and protect herself from her own desperation.

My mouth literally salivated at the sight of her. True, I was still hungry but it had yet to join in on the action. The act of going down on a woman could get more than a bit tedious but it was worth the results. Nothing turned me on more than a woman full in the throws of bliss that I held control over.

I resisted my instincts, however. Fantina was not going to get sloppy seconds in any way. I expected whipped cream. I looked forward to chocolate sauce. I wondered if there would be warm pie and cold ice cream to enflame her senses and compound her need.

Poised between the big-breasted blonde's legs, I could see her nervousness start to shift to genuine fear when she looked down and realized how large the length, that hovered less than a foot from her tight core, truly was. As close to orgasm as she seemed to be, I could still hurt someone if I wasn't careful. If I was crass enough to just shove myself in, rather than work her wider slowly, she expected her screams wouldn't be exactly what she wanted.

It wasn't something she would have to worry about. I was more than conscious of that particular need. Besides, I had no intention of using it on her. Unless, maybe, she managed to have enough energy to find me after I was through with her gym leader.

I leaned over her with my weight on hands to either side of her shoulders. "Gah..." She muttered inarticulately when my arms flexed as I lowered myself. I took a piece of roast beef into my mouth and used it to gently catch her nipple. I was rewarded by a series of yipped moans.

My thigh pressed firmly against her swollen clit as I lowered myself more firmly across her body. I had a moment of discomfort before I managed to shift my achingly hard member aside. Everywhere my body touched hers, I could feel the edge of tension on which her body teetered. When I pulled my head back, pinching her nipple briefly before I released it, my thigh slid between her legs and ground against her lust.

Although my body held her firmly in place, her hands flew from her sides to grip the top edge of the table on either side of her head. She screamed the beginning of her release even before my leg rocked back for a second trip against her overly sensitive mound.

I lifted myself only slightly while I continued to rock back and forth; forcing her to hump my leg. The added height gave her just enough room to shift slightly with each faked thrust. Her gravity-defying breasts shifted, out of proportion to the slight movement of her body in traditional anime style, and allowed her nipples to scrape against the firm, silky, surface of my chest. I never thought the breast jiggle was good for anything other than gratuitously titillating horny anime fans and causing back strain! Of course, I suspect she hadn't either.

"Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, Fuck, FUCK, FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!"

Her litany of profanity only spurred me to grind my thigh against her all the harder and faster. Her eyes were screwed shut and I feared her grip would splinter the inches thick table top.

"OH FUUUUUUUUCK! Shove that fucking cock inside me you fucking cocksucker or I'll fucking find you and fucking fuck you so fucking raw your fucking cock will fucking fall off!"

I admit it. My rhythm faltered just a bit at that tirade. I like a responsive audience as much as the next guy, but that was a little much. Thankfully, the way she continued to grip the table, rather than fumble to grab me and yank me inside her, suggested I didn't really have anything to fear from her.

I didn't stop until her arms collapsed. It was satisfying to hear that vulgarity dynamically shift to nothing more than whimpers. She didn't even have the energy to open her eyes. From the shallow breaths that barely shifted her huge breasts, she might have passed out. In any other circumstance I would have been imminently proud of that achievement. Given her ferocity, however, I found myself mostly grateful as I carefully climbed off of the table, so as not to disturb her.

"Ah, ze darlingpetit angel." Fantina's voice drifted to me from behind the curtain, now close by. "That you managed to silence Medium Dia's so-delicate mouth speaks well of your skills!C'est vres?"

With a flourish, a man in a chef's hat swept the curtain aside. He took one glance at me and handed me a towel without so much as a hint of condescension. I figured he must not have been an actual French chef, despite the ridiculous mustache. Even their servants tended to look down on anyone not from their country.

I carefully wiped my leg off. As much carnality as spewed from Dia's mouth, more lust had coated my thigh to spur me on. If I'd been willing, by the time she passed out, I probably could have slid in without the need to be careful.

From her position on the final table, Fantina studied my body critically. She noted instantly that I only needed to wipe off my fingers and my lower thigh on one leg, proving I had yet to fulfill my own desires. The realization prompted a feral smile that was proud enough to prove her French background in an instant.

"You have saved room for desert,non?"

One corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile. "I've grazed a bit, but I knew desert would be worth saving room for."

Fantina lay, completely naked, on an elegant table. Her hair had been let loose from the four oblong buns that perpetually framed her head and instead cascaded over the edge of the table. A fuzzyfleur-de-lis situated just above her delicate pearl proved that the bubblegum-pink-purple hair was as natural as the blue of her underling.

Next to the table sat two rolling trays within the gym leader's reach. She watched me recognize thea-la-carte nature of her course and her hand drifted over to a tray. Nimble fingers lightly balanced the handle of a ladle and lifted it out of a pool of chocolate. It drizzled slowly as she drifted her hand over her waist and back to the dish.

"I told you, the loser must serve the winner. But tell me what you wish and it shall be yours."

I was intrigued and no little bit excited. I was also greatly surprised that I had any room to grow harder. She smirked and dragged a purple-nailed finger across the trail of chocolate and brought it to suck suggestively clean.

A glance at the trays proved my fantastic suspicions correct. Along with finger pastries, the chef had supplied small cakes, candies, and tarts that steamed slightly over warmers in lieu of pies. The other tray held small bowls of a selection of ice cream. A scoop that resembled a spatula more than a spoon sat in a steaming cup of water. Around the central collection, in a semi-circle, sat the vats of toppings. One end was anchored with a bowl of cherries while the other held spray bottles of whipped cream.

Two fingers dipped into the cherries and pulled one free. She used the stem to point at me while she spoke. "Please. You have nothing to fear,non? Bring yourself closer."

She finished her speech with an entirely different kind of enticement. The cherry reached her pursed lips and was sucked slowly within. She opened her mouth only far enough to reveal her slender tongue and the candied treat. With dexterity I only ever thought was a myth, she tied the stem in a bow in front of my very eyes.

Despite what had now been quite a while in Sinnoh, reaping the benefits of adult rules battles, I found myself fumbling to merely think after that display. I hopped forward on one foot, after I stubbed my toe on the leg of Dia's table, when she placed a delicate nail on the center of my chest. I stopped and looked up from my trials, vaguely aware of the weak, breathy, titter of giggles from behind me.

"Oh, but if you are too anxious, you will not be able to savor the delicacies arrayed before you. Surely you are not one of those gauche brutes who like to speed through and finish as quickly as possible? How do you say it, 'wham bam thank you ma'am'?"

The little trill she added to roll her "r"s was just exciting enough to make me ignore the insult to lefties that she wasn't even aware she made. Instead, I found myself shaking my head, in denial, so fast I was surprised I didn't get whiplash. I just stood there and shivered delightfully while she traced her fingernail down across my abs and stopped just short of the length that pointed accusingly at her.

"Good." She confirmed with a quick poke to my groin before her hand drifted back over to the desert trays. "Then may I interest you in a lady finger? They are excel-lahnt with a hint of chocolate."

Fantina finished her suggestion by picking up one of the cake delicacies. She brought it to her side and used it to emphasize her perfect breast by dragging it smoothly around the outer swell before she continued forward and down across her soft-but-firm waist. To complete her promise, the lady finger drifted across the trail of chocolate still cooling on her flesh. The pastry left a thin trail of syrup when it wandered down to round the corner beneath her styled hair and travel back up to join the main stream she had drizzled.

I never understood why the actresses (and I use the term loosely) in porn moan when doing something that pretty clearly shouldn't have the slightest affect on them. Giving a guy a B.J. isn't exactly a euphoric act, for example. For once, however, my natural skepticism flew right out the window and my suspension of disbelief wasn't so much "willing" as "demanding".

My mouth watered almost comically. She uncurled her index finger from around the pastry and used it to beckon me closer. I leaned forward and she popped the dessert into my dangling jaw. A light tap was all she needed to close my mouth with a snap. Damn, I felt like Brock right about then but I found I couldn't care less.

I should apologize to Faintina's chef. I'm sure the deserts were good, I just don't remember them. My sense of taste was of secondary importance at best right about then. Even smell and, to a lesser extent sound and sight, quickly took a back seat to the way my body strained at the seams.

I couldn't stand it any longer so I leaned over and licked the freshly smeared trail of chocolate down between her legs. My hands rested on her thigh and waist, purely for balance to protect her from the way my head floated and spun. This time, I felt certain there was nothing feigned about the soft moans that issued from Fantina's lush lips.

I delivered only a flick of my tongue across her swollen bud before I leaned back once more. My head fell back with a sigh as I fought to keep my legs steady. My knees threatened to buckle with excitement. While I was willing to kneel in worship of this delicious goddess, that position wouldn't help me reach the table.

"More!" I managed to growl.

Her excited smile and intense gaze proved how much she appreciated the sentiment. I didn't imagine the slight shake of her hand as she reached over to the tray and reclaimed the ladle from the chocolate sauce. She began a light drizzle once more. This time she followed the path the pastry had followed.

Her chest swelled with a sharp intake of breath and she bit her lower lip the farther down the sauce spread. I understood. The syrup was warm. It wasn't anywhere near hot enough to do any damage but it pushed the edges of comfort against her bare skin. If she didn't enjoy a little pain with her pleasure, it had to have taken a fair bit of will to continue. Even though she did seem excited by it, the pain would increase when it reached more tender areas. My hand joined hers and helped so that she didn't need to do it all on her own.

Fantina gasped when the first drops fell between her legs and began to seep deeper. A slight twist of wrist poured much more syrup into the triangular juncture than she anticipated. She cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure before I released her hand and let the ladle return to the vat of heated chocolate.

She collapsed fully onto her back, unable to support herself momentarily. The building desire merged with the sudden shock of the unexpected assault. She needed a few moments to recover before she could get back on track seducing me with her desserts.

I was too impatient to let her work her amazing wiles on me. Besides, I was the victor of the battle. I had no intention of relinquishing my dominance to her in any fashion.

Before she could recover, I leaned forward once more and followed the fresh trail of chocolate. I dove between her legs even more confidently than the syrup had been drizzled there. My tongue sank deep into the puddle and pressed against her smooth flesh as it curled. The tip unerringly found her soft, supple, bud and traced circles around it before retreating to my mouth.

Each time I swallowed chocolate, Fantina took the opportunity to take a deep breath in between her growing pants and groans. Her breathing had become uneven. Her stomach quivered with each questing dart of my tongue. I could feel the muscles, barely hidden by her soft skin, shudder and tense while my goatee brushed against her sensitive mounds.

Fantina's hand darted out towards the rolling trays. Her first desperate grab knocked over a platter of pastries, which she sent clattering to the floor in her impatience. A moment later, the whole cart lifted off its wheels and crashed to the floor in time with her arched back and swallowed scream. She wasn't quite there yet, but I knew I'd hitthe spot.

The lift also proceeded to open her legs slightly. My grin of triumph went unseen by Fantina. Too bad, had she seen the feral expression she might have been prepared for what came next. Not that it was likely to have mattered.

Two fingers swept in to catch the remaining drizzle, which slowly descended, now that her legs no longer held tightly together. I caught it just short of her hot depths and dragged it to my mouth, by way of her quivering clit. Her hips began to buck furiously but my other arm slipped underneath her and held her secure.

The screaming started when my fingers dropped back down and speared into her. Even better, I hadn't forgotten the spot. My tongue danced out and attacked her with as much vigor as my hand.

Fantina's hand lashed out and clutched at my shoulder while the other practically crushed the edge of the table. With her ability to release the pent up ecstasy through her body thwarted by my ensnaring arm, it built within her. Her only escapes from the bliss were the screams. She proved French to be her natural language when I couldn't understand half of what poured from her mouth in a constant torrent.

My own desire ratcheted up significantly with each thrust of my fingers. Her muscles gripped me firmly. She pulsed around them, reluctant to let them retreat, even if it meant the only way to push back in. Her body was determined to do the impossible and milk my body, uncaring that she had the wrong member within her.

I had to end it. As much as her pleasure intoxicated me, the feel of her depths tore through my conviction and demanded I climb up onto the table with her. I pulled myself back from her, going so far as to take a step back, just to allow myself a moment to get my bearings. My hands dropped to my hips and it took a moment to remember that I'd left my pants at the other side of the room. Frustrated panic welled up within me when I realized I had to put everything on hold long enough to go over and collect one of my precious condoms.

Before I could turn, Fantina's arm flopped in my direction, as if she were trying to grab me but lacked the energy. I glanced back at her. The slight turn was just enough to put the object of her intent within reach. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open in surprise when her dainty hand wrapped firmly around my straining length.