Elephant (shhh)

Elephant (Misha / Emi, adult content)
(This was an experiment to see if I could into erotic things at all. I don't know if it succeeded.)


Someone's knocking at my door in the middle of the night. I know it's not Rin, because she doesn't bother knocking, and if the door were locked, she would have resorted to thumping her head against it. It's starting to get late, she's probably passed out by now anyway.
I have a sneaking suspicion, which is confirmed a moment later when I open my door to find Misha standing on the other side.
“Hi, Emi-chan.” She says with a smile, but it fades as quickly as it comes. Most people would call that a rare sight, but I know better. I glance up and down the hallway, but no one else is up and about at this hour.
“You don't look happy to see me...” Misha tries to work her usual lilt in at the end of her speech, but fails rather terribly. Her eyes are a little red, the only indication anyone would ever have that something was even the slightest bit wrong. I've been there before.
“No, hey Misha.” I reply, giving the girl in front of me a smile. “I'm just a little tired, that's all. Do you want to come in?”
She perks up, her smile returning. It's bright and wide, but it's forced, too.
“Yeah, thanks, Emi-chan.” She says, slipping past me. Misha quickly takes a seat on my bed, bouncing up and down a few times.
“I like your room.” She says, looking around, still smiling. “It's so orange!”
“It was pink when I first moved in, but I fixed that.” I close the door behind me and then take a seat next to her. I was trying to do some homework, but it can always wait.

It's happened before, and I'm sure, if she has her way, it will happen again. But this isn't right, this isn't fair, I know it, and she knows it too.
“Misha.” I pant, between gasps for air. “This has to stop.”
“What do you mean, Emi-chan?” Her voice is trembling, her face is wet with tears, mere inches from mine.
“Misha.” I gaze up at the girl lying on top of me, feeling my body beginning to grow hot. “We can't keep doing this.”
“Why? Why~?” She goes from a cheery lilt to a sensual purr, leaning in close. She kisses my cheek, her hot breath is on my neck, her knee is between my legs. My resistance is beginning to wane, but I reach up and cup the side of her face with one hand. Misha turns her head at my touch, desperate for more.
“Because you're crying.” I whisper. Misha shakes her head, closing her eyes tightly.
“I'm not, I'm not~” She says desperately, I don't know who she's trying to convince, me or her, but she's doing a lousy job of it.
“Mishaaa.” I drop my hand to give her a gentle punch in the shoulder. She opens those big, golden eyes to look at me.
“C'mon.” I start to say. “Why don't we-”
But she pushes forward again, pressing her lips to mine, letting her body drop. She sinks into me, and then begins gyrating slowly, her breasts are rubbing against mine, her wide hips easily dwarfing my smaller frame. But even though Misha is bigger than me in more ways than one, I don't feel trapped. My breathing begins to quicken, I'm beginning to--
Misha breaks the kiss, her eyes filled with equal parts hurt and raw longing.
“You should stop, Emi-chan.” She says, looking like she's going start crying again.
I fumble for a quip to fire back, but it's getting a little bit more difficult as my body begins to respond to her touch. “You're the one who-”
Again, she interrupts me, but with words this time. “Not that.” She says, shaking her head.  “You should stop being so kind to me.” Her voice cracks.
Damn it.
I sigh, leaning back onto my bed. Misha lays down on top of me again, her lips gently suckling my neck.
I can't do that. I know how Misha feels, I know what it's like to be hurt so much that you just need something, anything. To need someone, to want someone, to burn in the middle of the night for a comforting touch.
Misha.
I can't say I wouldn't mind that touch right now. I can't say she's not attractive, she's beautiful, her scent, a mixture of strawberry bubblegum and a hint of musk by now, it fills my senses.
Misha's teeth bite down gently on the side of my neck, at the same moment that her hand gently touches my right breast. I let out a small gasp, following by an involuntary moan. She's... she's good. Misha...
My own hands run through her intricately done hair. I trace my fingers down her sides, resting on her hips. Misha has begun climbing higher, she's started nibbling on my ear, her hand still carefully, cautiously running and smoothing over my breast through my shirt,  it's... I've got to...
“Okay.” I groan, feeling my body begin to sweat from her touch. She lifts her head to look me in the eyes, looking curious and a little scared, not by what we're doing but of what I might say next.
The homework was boring anyway. I give her a mischievous smile, even though I know she's here because she wants to be close to someone, not because she wants to get in trouble.
“Just promise you won't call me “shicchan” this time.” I say with a wink.
Misha looks embarrassed, looks sad again for a moment. But then she smiles back.
“Waha-” Her trademark laugh is interrupted by a quick sniff, and she reaches up to wipe away the last of her tears. When she's done I take her hand in one of mine, using my other to cup the back of her head and bring her lips back to me.

Misha's body pulses atop mine, rubbing up and down as our lips lock together. I close my eyes as her tongue runs across my teeth, I can't suppress a tiny moan as I open wider to let her in. Our tongues meet, they do battle, I begin to giggle at the thought and almost choke.
“E-Emi chan?” Misha squeaks, retreating, but I can only laugh.
“I'm fine, I'm fine. Hold on, Misha.” Might as well do this now. Slipping out from underneath her, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and go about removing my prosthetics. I don't want to end up scratching her.
Misha watches me with a mix of anticipation and sadness, for someone other than herself this time, not that I mind. Taking her mind off her own problems, that is, I don't need her pity. I don't need anyone's pity, she knows that.
“This just means I won't be able to escape.” I say with a wink once I've finished. Misha smiles back at me, but her gaze hasn't left my legs. What passes for my legs, anyway.
I pull my lower body back onto the bed, but Misha reaches forward, gently taking what remains of my calf in her hands. My jaw clenches instinctively.
“Emi-chan...” She whispers, her smile fading.
“H-hey. Come on.” I grin, but she smooths her hands over the skin of my legs, behind my knee, carefully, almost fearfully, touching my stump. I grimace. Not that it hurts, not that it feels bad, it's the opposite.
“Misha, stop.” I whisper. She looks up at me, eyes filled with hurt again. Damn it, I didn't mean it like that, I--
“I'm sorry, Emi-chan.” She says, looking absolutely miserable. “I've been selfish again.”
I let out something halfway between a groan and a roar, springing forward. Misha lets out a soft squeak as I land on top of her, the two of us flopping backwards onto the bed.
“Misha.” I don't care that she's a normal girl at a school for the disabled. I don't care that she has legs and I don't. I'm sick and tired of seeing her like that.
“Be selfish.” I whisper, bending down to let our lips meet.
Misha stops thinking. Misha stops worrying, and hurting and churning. She obeys. She surrenders, kissing me back with passion and abandon and damn it, we're still dressed, that needs to change.
We break apart, and I suck in a few ragged breaths, immediately missing her taste. My head is growing hot and light, that animal part of my brain has woken up and begun shunting everything less important aside. But I manage to use the quick reprieve to lean over and switch my lamp to the lowest setting, my room now lit by only the dimmest glow. It's been a few months since we've done this, I won't lie and say I haven't missed her touch, her... her lips, her breasts, her hips, her legs, her... Misha what are you doing get back here. The girl below me sits up and I lean back to sit beside her on the bed.
As my eyes adjust to the low light, I can make out the girl next to me undoing her bow tie, unbuttoning her shirt. I begin to do the same, but she finishes before me and leans forward again, apparently set on doing it for me. I begin to protest, but she finds a better use for my mouth, her fingers still gently working at my buttons. She's a good multitasker. And... a good kisser, and...
Once her work is done, Misha retreats again, shrugging off her shirt, and then tugs mine away. I take in the sight of her full figure, those shapely breasts filling her pink bra. Her face is flushed and she's blushing heavily, I'm sure I'm not much better off, but she doesn't look sad anymore. That's good. I'm glad. This is no time for being sad, this is no time for tears. Misha proves it by slinking past me on her hands and knees, reaching towards my dresser.
“Oh no. No you don't.” I say, but I make no effort to stop her.
“Is it still in the second drawer?”
“It's not!” Just the thought makes me press my legs together, but in anticipation.
“Yes it is!” Misha exclaims in delight, retrieving the focus of her search.
“Okay, maybe it is.” I pretend to look embarrassed, but I'm not. Misha giggles, holding the long rod of plastic in one hand. Rin had dubbed it my “purple-headed warrior” after stumbling upon it one day. I still have no idea if she knows what it's actually for.
“Emi-chaaan~” Misha purrs, kissing the double-sided tool. I want to groan, but seeing her run her lips over it, slowly, sensually...

“Haah... haah...” The sound of our moans overlap as our bodies grind and twist against eachother, our clothes in a tangled pile beside the bed. The tiny bit of my brain still capable of actual thought wonders if I should have put some music on or something, or at least locked my door, if Rin were to wake up right now it could end in disaster. Or at least, something much less enjoyable than--
Misha sinks her teeth into my neck, a little harder than her previous efforts, and I let out a sharp gasp. With one hand, I grip the curved, plastic rod that sinks into each of us on opposite ends, it glistens in the low light as our bodies buck and pulse against it. Misha's form hangs above me, twitching, writhing in tune with mine, her soft, luscious breasts rubbing against my smaller, bare chest.
“Emi-chan.” Misha pants into the side of my neck, her hands clasped around the small of my back to bring my burning hot flesh against hers. The fluids from her body mingle with mine as we both do everything in our power to impale ourselves against the purple device. My legs are spread wide on either side of her glistening body, Misha suckles and bites on my neck, her efforts constantly interrupted as she raises her head to let out a breathy moan.
“Misha, you're--haah---going to leave a--uhhn--mark.” My words are cut in time with our thrusts, but I think my meaning gets across. In between gasps for breath and throaty groans, Misha manages to get out a response.
“Then what would--ah!--what would people think, Emi-chaaan~” Her lilting speech is drawn into something between a sigh and a moan as she returns her mouth to  my neck, our forms still pulsing against eachother. Each thrust is like a stab into my being, I feel parts of me being chipped away, like I'm being chiseled down, getting closer and closer to the white-hot release that my body craves.
I don't--I dooonn't, shit--I don't care what people think, but Misha if you stop now I will never forgive you, I--
“They would--” I suck in a quick breath. “They would know that I wasn't alone!” I think I've lost it. Volume is some vague concept that I can't be bothered with, like slowing down usually is when I'm at the track. Misha's movements quicken, her thrusts coming faster, I grip the plastic that binds us with all my might.
“And I would--” Never one for being quiet, Misha is panting loudly, gasping and moaning and pleading and--
The girl on top of me removes one hand from my back to place it next to mine on the shaft, holding it in place so that our bodies can both drive it even deeper. Oh my god oh my god oh my god Misha I--
“And I would know that you weren't alone either!” I cry. Our bodies grind against eachother with all our power, the sensitive flesh of my nipples feels like it's about to be rubbed raw but I'M SO CLOSE I'M SO--
“Emi-chan!” The beautiful, fragile girl above me screams.
“Missssshhhha!” My voice begins as a hiss but empties into a loud, wailing moan of pleasure as I reach my limit. With one final thrust, our bodies come to an abrupt stop, twitching for a few moments as we reach our shuddering release. And then Misha collapses on top of me, the two of us both gasping for air, our chests heaving up and down.
We lay there in complete sensory burnout for what feels like ages, until I regain the strength to move into a more comfortable position beside her. She would be able to move again by now too if she would just start running with me in the mornings like I'd asked.
“Emi-chan...” Misha pants, her voice barely above a whisper. She reaches out with still trembling arms, and I smile weakly as I accept. The air around us practically steams as we cuddle next to eachother on the bed, wet beneath us with our sweat, among other things.
Misha says my name a few more times, before mumbling some barely audible words of thanks, but I shush her. She might be bigger than me, but her heart is just too damn big.
Her breathing eventually returns to a soft, steady pace, and she falls asleep, there, beside me. We could both use a shower right now but even my trained body is exhausted and it's so late at night...
Oh well. Her room isn't far away, there will be time in the morning.
Misha.
I reach over to turn my lamp off completely, plunging the room into darkness. But I don't need to see the form next to mine to know that she's there. And hopefully when she wakes up, Misha will know that I'm there for her too.



(Elephant is a song by Damien Rice)