morefishplease Mar 15th, 2017 (edited) 335 Never
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- After Undyne has listened at Frisk’s door and heard nothing, not even snores, she scampers back to her room, satisfied that the child is sound asleep, flings herself into bed, grinning wildly. She hasn’t had a moment to herself since Frisk arrived, she’s been too busy taking care of him, but now that he has his own room and they’ve worked out a shaky routine things should be settling down…’thank god,’ Undyne thinks, for she has certain…needs that she hasn’t been attending to.
- She curls against her pillow, squeezes it tight, eyes shut, grin wide and lustful; she can already feel herself getting wet as she grinds against the pillow, tucks it between her legs, rubs it against the moistening cleft there, just her panties and her shorts and then open air - !
- Undyne sighs bright and relaxed and needy, pinches one of her seablue nipples, growls at the sensation. The harsh twinge only makes her wetter and hotter and she slips out of the covers, lays on top of them, still slowly humping her pillow, starts to slip one hand down her ridged, muscular stomach, down into her shorts (her fingers tangle in her fiery-red pubic hair, skirt over the edge of her lips, and she feels herself dripping as she imagines her fingers to be a tongue or a cock and she arches her back, lets out a giggly little moan as she traces her fattening clit in slow, jerky circles), and she begins to jill herself with a ferocity born out of sheer pent-up horniness. Soon enough she has one finger inside of her and she is so tight and wet and warm that she rolls her eyes back, moans louder, checks herself quickly, listens with hushed breath for a few moments, but there is nothing, and as she slips a second finger inside herself, pumps quickly in and out, she covers her mouth with her other hand, groans softly and rhythmically to herself, eyes squeezed shut, fingers wriggling, hitting the exact spot that she likes, and god, she thinks, I’m going to come soon, god I needed this, god I am so fucking horny, god –
- And there she plunges as deep into herself as she can, thumb vigorously rubbing against her clit, and she can feel the orgasm about to explode over her, and she closes her eyes tighter, imagines the warm pulsing feeling of a cock about to fill her up so tight it comes leaking out –
- The door opens and Undyne’s eyes fly open and she sits up, shirt pulled down, one breast jiggling in time with her frantic fingers, still buried inside of her, stares at Frisk. He stares back and his tiny eyes open wide, his jaw drops, and Undyne starts to yell at him to get out you little punk oh my GOD but she is coming and she can’t stop herself, she can’t, not even the fiery lance of shame already spiking through her can stop her and as Frisk watches she arches her back and moans so lewdly that it coaxes another wave of wetness from her and her legs are shaking and she is blushing so hard she feels she must catch fire and she still cannot stop herself, she comes and comes and comes and it flows from between her fingers and Frisk is watching everything, the way her muscular ass jiggles as one particularly large spasm drives it an inch off the bed, the way her nipples are hard and stiff and needy, the way she smells, hot and musky and roaring with a need to be filled, to be stuffed with searing cum –
- And then it is over and Undyne is gasping and the tears trickling from her wounded eye are burning with pleasure and shame and when she sits up (her fingers slip from her with a muted sucking sound) Frisk is still staring and as the white spots clear from her vision she sees his pants are tented outward and she feels she must die now, this is it, this is the lowest she can ever go –
- And Undyne points one dripping finger to the door and roars at him to get out, to knock next time, and though Frisk did and she simply did not hear, he bolts back to his room and hides under the covers, his tiny erection jabbing at his skinny stomach as he curls up into a ball, waits for Undyne to storm in and kill him, but Undyne is too busy curling up herself, the last whinnying gallops of pleasure evaporating from her tired nerves, and as she hugs her knees to her aching breasts she burns with a frying shame and wonders how she will ever look at Frisk again.
- In his room Frisk slowly stretches out, listens at the door, and when nothing is forthcoming, finds his hands drawn down to his small stiff cock – he cannot help but think of the way Undyne moaned and how deep her fingers were inside her, and the look on her face turned him on so much that it is all he can do.
- In her room Undyne lets out a growling hiss of anger and throws on some clothes. She has decided to nip this in the bud, go and talk to Frisk, go and – apologize, she guesses? She doesn’t know what she will say or do, just that if she waits until the morning it will be even worse. She trudges down the hall, stares at his door.
- On the other side of the door Frisk’s eyes are squeezed shut tight – he is imagining taking a firm hold of Undyne’s tight waist, pressing himself against her moist slit, pressing into her; he imagines her so warm and wet and tight that he would come instantly, imagines her moaning lewdly and pressing herself back against him; he is jerking himself off so quickly that he won’t last long at all at this rate –
- Undyne’s hand is tightening on the doorknob - !
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