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Kitsoviet

Small Town Blues Ch. 4

Jan 28th, 2016
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  1. *Click-shhhhhhh…*
  2.  
  3. The not-quite-cold-enough beer can hisses in protest at being opened too early and half-heartedly spits out a blob of foam that threatens to run over its edge and onto the table before I catch it. Slurping through the foamy head at the top of the can I eventually hit actual beer and then keep going. I’m drinking a lot faster than I usually would, but hey, it’s the weekend.
  4.  
  5.  
  6. *bzzzzzZZZZZZZz*
  7.  
  8. A familiar sound reaches my ears after a few hours of tinny radio and domestic lager. I continue to nurse my drink as the noise grows louder and louder, until it cuts off to make way for a loud thump at the front door.
  9.  
  10. “Hellooo? Do you have a moment to talk about Druella today?” Kaitlyn cracks the door and calls into the house.
  11.  
  12. “No, fresh out of moments, but I do have a nice model twelve getthehelloutofhere.”
  13.  
  14. I hear a faint giggle and a moment later Kaitlyn appears in the kitchen.
  15.  
  16. “Hey Jennifer.”
  17.  
  18. “Heeyyyyy Kaitlyn.”
  19.  
  20. “Riding that empty stomach beer buzz?”
  21.  
  22. “Like a rented Harley.”
  23.  
  24. “Lush.”
  25.  
  26. “You’re one to talk.”
  27.  
  28. “Right?”
  29.  
  30. Kaitlyn clips over to me and takes a seat on the far side of the card table.
  31.  
  32. “Can I offer you a barley pop?”
  33.  
  34. “Sure.”
  35.  
  36. She accepts the frosty cylinder I retrieve from the fridge and presses it to her forehead for a few moments before she opens it.
  37.  
  38. “Hot out there today?”
  39.  
  40. “Yeah man, but it’s the dry heat.” Kaitlyn grins derisively before bringing the can to her lips. She manages to take a tiny gulp, then slaps the can back on the table as her whole body shudders in revulsion.
  41.  
  42. “Smooth.”
  43.  
  44. Don’t laugh at her, don’t laugh at her, don’t laugh at her…
  45.  
  46. “So how have you been?” my voice comes out a pitch or two higher than normal, but I manage to keep from actually laughing at her as she winces her way through her drink.
  47.  
  48. “Oh, good. Real good. Went to the dollar theater the other day.”
  49.  
  50. “What did you see?”
  51.  
  52. “Not really sure. I was just enjoying the bright lights.” She gives a little shrug, which segues smoothly into another convulsion as she continues to choke down her drink.
  53.  
  54. “You don’t have to finish that you know.”
  55.  
  56. She frowns at me, antennae still twitching in furious rebellion over their host’s decision to keep drinking.
  57.  
  58. “I don’t wanna be the only sober person in the room.”
  59.  
  60. She punctuates her sentence with another swig. And another shiver.
  61.  
  62. “Why don’t you let me finish that and you can just stare at the lamp upstairs like you always do instead?” I suggest as I ease her drink away from her.
  63.  
  64. “Oh Demon Lord I thought you’d never ask.”
  65.  
  66. She stands up and stretches, wings fanning out.
  67.  
  68. “You sure it’s a good idea to drink both of those at once?” she asks, gesturing to the beer cans on the table.
  69.  
  70. “I can handle it.”
  71.  
  72. ---
  73.  
  74. “…and so of course she had to be laid off, and everyone in editing was still typing one-handed a week later.”
  75.  
  76. “Pffffftttt HAHAHA.”
  77.  
  78. Kaitlyn starts cracking up as I finish my story, holding onto her sides with all four hands.
  79.  
  80. “Anyway, that’s why my first publisher dropped me.”
  81.  
  82. “Idiotsh,” she declares with a limp hand gesture as she leans back in her chair to get closer to the desk lamp, “I would have given you a bonus.”
  83.  
  84. “Thanks.”
  85.  
  86. I decide that I need another round and try to get to the door, but for some reason there’s a heap of empty cans surrounding my seat on the couch on all sides.
  87.  
  88. “Who’s dumping these empties all over the place? Looks like a pack of animals lives here.”
  89.  
  90. Kaitlyn fixes me with a steady gaze for an uncomfortably long amount of time, then throws two of her hands up in the air in defeat.
  91.  
  92. “I have no idea.” She declares before breaking into another fit of giggles.
  93.  
  94. “Well whoever they are they’re going to have to pony up some beer money next time I go to the store.”
  95.  
  96. The empty cans won’t get out of my way no matter how hard I glare at them, so I try to hop over them. I just barely make it, but the floor started moving while I was in the air and I have a hard time getting my footing once I land. Regaining my balance quickly becomes a lost cause, so I half hop, half skip toward the wall until I finally manage to slap my hand against it and steady myself.
  97.  
  98. “Right, let’s not do that again…”
  99.  
  100. Alright doorknob, where are you? AHA, thought you could hide from me did you? Stop moving damn it. You’re standing in between me and another round.
  101.  
  102. “Gotcha.”
  103.  
  104. “Gotcha.”
  105.  
  106. Just as I finally get ahold of the door, a quartet of slender, white arms gets ahold of me from behind. Two glossy hands take their time tracing up my chest, up my neck, to cover my eyes.
  107.  
  108. “Guess who.”
  109.  
  110. “Kaitlyn?”
  111.  
  112. “Aww, you peaked.”
  113.  
  114. “What are you-“
  115.  
  116. Kaitlyn cuts me off by slipping one of her fingers into my mouth. She gently pushes the glossy digit against my tongue as her remaining three hands slide down toward my belt. Her antennae start tickling at the back of my neck.
  117.  
  118. “Ah, there’sh that Ivory Soap shmell...” She says softly, tightening her hold on me, pressing her breasts into my back.
  119.  
  120. “Kaitlyn,” I say as she takes her finger out of my mouth, “Should we really, eh…”
  121.  
  122. “Aw come ooooon,” she coos, reaching down with the one free hand she still has after beginning to undo my belt to cup everything she can get it around, “We both wannit, an’ we’re both greashed enough to have the nerve to ackshually follow through.”
  123.  
  124. “I’m not ‘greased’. I could drive right now.”
  125.  
  126. Kaitlyn giggles musically into my ear.
  127.  
  128. “No, no ya couldn’t. I wish you could hear yershelf right now, you shound like Foster Brooks.”
  129.  
  130. She finishes with my belt and tugs my pants down to the floor, then hooks all four of her hands around one side of me and whirls me around to face her.
  131.  
  132. “C’mon ya big lush. Ish my turn.”
  133.  
  134. She guides my hands down to the hem of her sweater, then releases them. She’s biting her bottom lip, and as the soft fabric starts to slide up her belly, her wings start to flicker involuntarily. A wisp of glittering orange-tinted dust billows up into the air, and as I catch a whiff of it I find the doubts I had about this rapidly evaporating. She lets out a little squeak of surprise as I abruptly yank her sweater up over her head and let it slide down off her wings. A pleased sigh follows as I slip a hand into her bra, teasing lightly until her nipple stiffens against my palm.
  135.  
  136. “Mmmm,” she sighs as we part, “Thash what I’m talkin’ about.”
  137.  
  138. Her lower set of hands pulls my underwear away and begins stroking me, all pretense of coyness cast aside. The upper set flies to the clasp of her bra and unclips it, letting the firm globes of her bosom bounce free.
  139.  
  140. “You like?”
  141.  
  142. A slack-jawed nod is the only response my mind is able to muster. I don’t know if it’s the pheromones she’s just dusted me with or if she really just has the finest figure under the sun, but I’m dumbstruck. The sweater she wears, taught though it may be, simply doesn’t do justice to the gravity-defying orbs of cream-colored flesh before me, the pale pink nipples that tip them slowly growing stiffer in the cool air.
  143.  
  144. “Hey!” she chastises, letting go of my cock to bop me playfully on the nose, “I dint takem out just so you could shtare at them.”
  145.  
  146. I get the hint and reach toward her, but she catches my hands with one set of hers and uses the other to pull my face down into the ring of fine orange fuzz that encircles her neck and then drag me down into her cleavage.
  147.  
  148. “With yer mouth.”
  149.  
  150. Don’t have to tell me twice.
  151.  
  152. “Mph, that’s nice.”
  153.  
  154. I can hear the smile in her voice as I find my way to a nipple and wrap my lips around it. Four sets of glossy fingers start running through my hair as I circle my tongue around it. Just as I’m starting to get into it however, she lets go of me.
  155.  
  156. “Hang on, lesh get comfy.”
  157.  
  158. Kaitlyn turns and stumbles over to the couch, inadvertently shaking out another cloud of glittering fuck-fuel that quickly finds its way into my lungs and turns the next few seconds of waiting into agony.
  159.  
  160. “I shaw this in a dirty magazine once an’ I’ve wanned to doit ever shince.” She says as she sits down, wings fully spread to keep them from being pinned underneath her, “Come resht your head in my lap.”
  161.  
  162. I’m far to riled up to question what exactly it is she wants to do, so I kick through the heap of empty cans barring my way and flop my head down on the soft spandex-clad pillow of her thighs. Her hands quickly find their way under my head and lift me up to be eye-level with her irresistible breasts.
  163.  
  164. “Proceed.” She purrs, cupping my balls with one hand and wrapping another around my shaft.
  165.  
  166. I start working toward earning my orgasm. First a deep suckle at each nipple. Then a gentle circling of the tongue around her pebbly areola before flicking it across her nipple proper. Her glass-smooth hand tightens to a pleasantly firm grip and pumps more briskly. As more and more pre lubricates the affair, she begins taking a break every now and again to tease at my urethra with a single, graceful finger or circle it around the base of my glans. Desperate for release, I work my tongue faster and faster, adding a light nibble here and there, hoping that paying proper reverence to her magnificent bust will spur her to get me off.
  167.  
  168. “Having…umph… fun, are ya?” Kaitlyn pants slightly and flicks her wings yet again, further clouding my mind with desire.
  169.  
  170. If her touch was pleasant before, it becomes downright electrifying as a third dose of insectile aphrodisiac enters my bloodstream. Every movement, even the most minute, has me thrusting upwards into the smooth vice of her chitin-clad hand.
  171.  
  172. “Go ahead,” she urges, kneading at my sack in time with her stroking “Cum. Let it out.”
  173.  
  174. Her simple command becomes the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard once filtered through the pink haze of sex she’s clouded my mind with. It’s impossible to disobey as she speeds up to a breakneck pace, and within seconds I find myself paralyzed with delight as I erupt into her hand. She places her thumb over my cum slit as she whispers encouragements to me until she’s holding a palmfull of spunk and I’m reduced to suckling meekly at her with no memory of why I was doing so in the first place.
  175.  
  176. Kaitlyn giggles and rouses me from my stupor by shifting me upright. She rubs her white-glazed fingers together, hexagon-patterned eyes lowering into a smoky gaze accompanied by a self-satisfied smirk.
  177.  
  178. “You mush bee a real stick inna mud to have managed to shave up this much in a town full of monshters.”
  179.  
  180. “Oh shut up. This is your fault and you know it.”
  181.  
  182. I give myself some leverage and pin her to the couch. Sort of. One hand ends up in the sofa cushions and the other pushes onto her wing. Maybe I HAVE had too much to drink after all. I take a moment to shake my hand free of the coating of dust I’ve put on it…and immediately kiss my refractory period goodbye as I end up catching another whiff of it. It wouldn’t have lasted very long anyway; as I look back up at Kaitlyn I see her messily slurping my cum off her hand. That in itself is obscene enough, but it’s a particular quirk of mothman anatomy that has me stupefied: her tongue. I’d always known she had something impressive hidden in her mouth, but only in a textbook sort of way. She’d always been polite with it, drinking like a human, eating with a fork. Now though, the flexible, pale blue appendage is on full display, stretching from her pursed lips all the way down past her collar bone to lap the pearly coating off her palm. She catches me gawking at her and begins showing off her dexterity, demonstrating all her tongue is capable of until she’s finished off the last of her snack.
  183.  
  184. “Impreshive, isn’t it?” she grins.
  185.  
  186. She uses all four of her arms to push her bust together.
  187.  
  188. “D’you wanna try it out?” she asks before letting it slide back past her lips to display its full, glistening length just above her cleavage.
  189.  
  190. I manage another slack-jawed nod of affirmation. I really need to pull it together.
  191.  
  192. “C’mere” she says with a toothy grin, spreading her arms.
  193.  
  194. She drags me into a claustrophobically tight embrace as soon as I’m in range and seals her lips over mine. A few seconds of delicate exploration quickly blooms into the most intense kiss I’ve ever received as she starts to invade my mouth further and further with her slick, flexible tongue. She draws back just as I’m starting to feel light headed and lets me start gasping for air.
  195.  
  196. “I tashted yer cum before we had ‘ar first kish…” she muses, “There’s shomething wrong with that…”
  197.  
  198. She leans in and augers her tongue into my mouth again, doing things that make the previous kiss seem tame in comparison.
  199.  
  200. “No, no I takit back.” She declares, “There’sh nothin’ wrong with this.”
  201.  
  202. I abruptly find myself on my back with another mouthful of moth tongue and three hands fondling my manhood.
  203.  
  204. “Yer <smooch> ready for <kiss> another round right?” she queries, breaking her gulping kiss to plant extras on my cheeks and down my neck.
  205.  
  206. “I was ready 5 minutes ago when you put yet another lungful of aphrodisiac in me.”
  207.  
  208. “Wha?”
  209.  
  210. “I said that I was ready five minutes ago.”
  211.  
  212. “Yer slurring ish getting worsh by the minute.”
  213.  
  214. “I’M. READY.”
  215.  
  216. I heave her off of me and onto her back. She doesn’t seem the least bit surprised. In fact, the faint upturning at the corners of her mouth says that she’s rather pleased.
  217.  
  218. “Okay,” she whimpers, painfully obvious crocodile tears welling up in her eyes, “I get the messhage.”
  219.  
  220. She presses her breasts together and turns her head to the side meekly.
  221.  
  222. “Go ahead.” She pants, running her tongue over her lips. “Big bully.”
  223.  
  224. In spite of what I must admit at this point is total inebriation, I get the message also. I shamble up over her and plant my cock between her sweat-slicked breasts. She closes the porcelain-colored orbs of flesh around my length and looks up at me expectantly. I thrust once, and her tongue leaps out to lap at my crown as it comes within reach. I set a regular rhythm, starting off slow and gradually building speed. She manages to keep up, her tongue never missing an opportunity to slurp up a bead of pre. She licks and lashes even more greedily when I stop my movements within her reach, and as I feel that familiar icy tautness growing in my stomach I decide to stay where she can reach me and let her finish the job. She swirls her tongue as fast as she’s able and starts pumping her sweat and saliva covered breasts along my length, eyes boring into mine. Her touch was irresistible to begin with, but what ends it for me is the look she’s giving me. That faint, self-assured smirk, the pleased look in her hypnotically patterned eyes as she waits patiently for the feeling of her thrashing tongue and slick flesh to overwhelm me. I fail to hold back a gasp and start painting her already pale face an even lighter shade of white.
  225.  
  226. “Hehe…”
  227.  
  228. Kaitlyn closes her eyes and gives a throaty chuckle underneath the thick glaze of spunk that obscures her face, causing it to bubble up around her nose. She starts sliding her tongue across her cheeks, then her brow, cleaning herself of every drop. When she’s done, she leans back and smiles at me again, this time looking just slightly apologtetic.
  229.  
  230. “Not that thish isn’t fun,” she muses, smacking her lips, “But my panties are shoaked through and ‘ese shorts aren’t far behind, so…”
  231.  
  232. She reaches up and curls her fingers around my erection, still rigid under the influence of monstergirl pheromones and refusing to stand down despite having just busted two nuts in a row.
  233.  
  234. “If ya wouldn’t mind…”
  235.  
  236. I nod breathlessly at her and ease myself off of her and down between her legs. She lifts her hips up and wiggles out of her clinging shorts, exposing a rather modest pair of turquoise panties with a very dark patch on the crotch that outlines a plump vulva crowned by a proudly erect clitoris. The smell of desire coming off of her nearly chokes me, and it only gets stronger once her panties join her shorts on the floor. Something about her scent makes my mouth water, and I find myself leaning in to taste her and kiss and lick timidly at her sex. A hand on my head stroking my hair and pulling me closer tells me I haven’t failed to please. Emboldened, I move up to kiss her mons and then begin leaving a trail of kisses down her vulva until I reach the end and turn around. As I kiss back up my lips happen to land directly upon her swollen clit and I hear her gasp before her glossy, fuzz-fringed legs cross behind my head and lock my face against her pussy. She doesn’t saying anything, but her head-patting grows simultaneously more tender and more urgent. I drop any pretense of tenderness or sensuality, she’s pent up enough, and focus on making her cum as quickly as I can. I lick at her, suck at her, tease her a little with my teeth. The closer she gets, the tighter her sleek, shapely thighs hold me against her, smearing me with her ever growing torrent of lubrication, until her head patting suddenly turns into a painful grip on my hair and a torrent of femspunk starts running down my chin.
  237.  
  238. “MMMmmmmmm…” Kaitlyn sighs in satisfaction after she finally finishes soaking me and lets go of my hair. “Thanks.”
  239.  
  240. She unhooks her legs from around my neck and looks down at me.
  241.  
  242. “Well, I’m still horny.”
  243.  
  244. “Me too.”
  245.  
  246. I shamble into position as quickly as I can. My cock may still be rock hard, but the rest of me is starting to fail under the combined weight of way too much grocery store brand beer and repeated, chemically-enabled flaunting of my refractory period. But if I pass on this I just know I’ll be kicking myself tomorrow. This has been too fantastic to stop now.
  247.  
  248. “Hup…”
  249.  
  250. Kaitlyn grunts as she kicks her ankles up next to her ears in a startling display of flexibility. She uses both sets of hands to spread herself as wide as she can, biting her bottom lip to suppress the grin that won’t leave her face. Her toes curl and uncurl in anticipation. She-
  251.  
  252. “Qui’ gawkin’ and fuck me thish pose isn’t as eashy as I make it look!”
  253.  
  254. “Sorry.”
  255.  
  256. I make an attempt to line myself up with her and enter slowly, but her legs whip down around my waste as soon as my tip touches her and drive me in to the hilt.
  257.  
  258. “You ARE still horny.” I comment breathlessly, trying to stay coherent as her inhumanely tight and slick passage clenches around me.
  259.  
  260. “Shuddup an’ get moving.” She orders.
  261.  
  262. A muscular ripple proceeds along my length with agonizing slowness as Kaitlyn closes her eyes to focus. The sensation makes me thrust forward involuntarily. No good, I’ve already bottomed out. I pull back, her surprisingly strong legs fighting for every inch, and pulling me back in as soon as I thrust back into her.
  263.  
  264. Evidently deciding that my speed just isn’t up to snuff, she abruptly wraps not only her legs, but both sets of arms around me and uses the leverage to roll me onto my back. Her wings spread out to cover the both of us in a colorful, living tent. Her tongue invades my mouth again while she uses her newfound control to slap her hips down against mine over and over again with dizzying speed. Obscenely wet sounds mingle with our gasps and moans in a lewd chorus that makes it impossible to focus on anything but the woman on top of me. Minutes pass like hours, spent in ceaseless, frenzied motion, and slowly her strokes grow shorter and more desperate. She’s getting close, and I’m not far behind. Reaching up to grip her waist, I start doing my best to keep time with her increasingly rapid and jerky motions. Pleased, she gives her hungry kissing a break and leans back to give me a downright filthy smile before leaning in to my ear and whispering a series of equally filthy encouragements to me, leading up to just one sentence.
  265.  
  266. “Just like that.”
  267.  
  268. The frighteningly intimate sensation of teeth and soft lips on my ear follows the declaration and I abruptly find myself blowing a sloppy liquid surrender into the depths of the insectile woman over me as she groans with delight into my ear. Her bite grows from teasing to painful as the sensation of being filled pushes her past her limit and she soaks the couch cushions with the proof of her pleasure. That’s going to leave a mark for sure. The feathery tickle of haywire antennae provides just enough of a distraction from the feeling of teeth marking my flesh to keep from crying out as I pump the last of my biochemically bloated reserves up to her cervix.
  269.  
  270. We lay together, panting into each other’s ears for some time before either of us regains any semblance of motor control. It takes her all four arms to push herself upright. She smiles down at me. Not that hungry, perverse, monstergirl smile she was wearing earlier, but rather the gentle pleasant smile of someone who is pleased to be near you and nothing more.
  271.  
  272. “Well, that was nice.”
  273.  
  274. She leans down and gently presses her lips to my forehead, then settles into a more comfortable position on top of me. One of her legs hooks around mine as her quartet of arms wraps around me as best she can get them. She tops off the embrace by tucking her wings in close around the both of us. She strokes my cheek tenderly for a moment, but a few seconds later she begins giggling, which quickly gives way to full blown laughter.
  275.  
  276. “What’s so funny?”
  277.  
  278. “Nothing <hic>,” she assures me, “Absolutely nothing.”
  279.  
  280. She starts laughing even harder, shaking the both of us with the force of her amusement.
  281.  
  282. “Come on. Let me in on the joke.”
  283.  
  284. “I’m <snort> sorry. I wasn’t gonna shay anything but <hic>, I jus’ can’t help it.”
  285.  
  286. She gasps for breath.
  287.  
  288. “You got a <giggle>…a”
  289.  
  290. “Yes…?”
  291.  
  292. “…a REALLY dumb looking orgasm face. Ish hilarious.”
  293.  
  294. “Shut up.” I mutter and flick her on the forehead, hoping that I’m not blushing as brightly as I think I am.
  295.  
  296. “I’ll help you with it any time you want.” She purrs, shrugging off my pathetic show of vindication.
  297.  
  298. “I’ll keep that in mind, but we should probably rest now. I think even one more time could be lethal for the both of us.”
  299.  
  300. “Shounds reasonable. Shouwee sleep here or try an’ make it to bed?”
  301.  
  302. “Bed. I’ve tried to sleep here before and it plays hell on my back.”
  303.  
  304. She sighs, antennae drooping.
  305.  
  306. “Alright. Gimme a hand here.”
  307.  
  308. “You’ve already got twice as many as I do.”
  309.  
  310. “Shtill need another.”
  311.  
  312. She pushes off of me and settles back on her haunches with all the grace of a lame pigeon and waits as I straighten up with at least twice as much. The room is spinning and I feel like I’ve been wrung out like a dish rag. She’s going to pay for this one day.
  313.  
  314. “Arrrright, d’you wanna gettup firsht or should I?”
  315.  
  316. “I’ll get up first.”
  317.  
  318. “Such a gentleman.”
  319.  
  320. Bracing myself against the back of the couch, I hurl myself upright in bitter defiance of the limp-noodle feeling in my legs and the protests of my dangerously high blood alcohol content. One second, two seconds, three seconds…looks like I’ll be able to stay upright. I turn back to Kaitlyn and hold my hand out to her. She takes it and slumps off the couch and onto me; she’d have sent us both to the floor if she wasn’t so light.
  321.  
  322. “Okie doke.” She sighs, “We’re up. Lesh get ta bed while I shtill got the energy ta move.”
  323.  
  324. Taking turns acting as the other’s crutch, we manage to walk all eight feet down the hall and fall into an intoxicated heap on the bed. Kaitlyn squirms up on top of me and drapes the both of us with her parti-colored wings in lieu of blankets. She’s actually quite warm.
  325.  
  326. “Thanks.”
  327.  
  328. She responds by way of a kiss on the forehead. I can’t keep my hands to myself after that, so I slide them up her back and begin rubbing at the space between her wings. She hums appreciatively, and after a few minutes is out cold. I join her soon after.
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