Alright! My short week is over and done with and my extended weekend begins. Let's kick things off with something explicit.
Michael Mario: It's only the beginning of the madness, only the beginning..
TheBlueAlienRobotZombie: It really would, Nate gets fucked over too many times in this story, I swear.
Sith Droideka: "Call the police"? Now now, where's the fun in doing that?
Toon-Girl-Abby: It's weird to say I'm writing her OOC when in-game she doesn't have a character at all.
Jupitergirl132: Uh, right. Sure. Whatever you say.
Please review! If you don't, who will?
Word Count: 402 words.
.37 The Lemon
(1) The lemon is a small evergreen tree native to Asia, and the tree's ellipsoidal yellow fruit. The juice of the lemon is about 5% to 6% citric acid, which gives lemons a sour taste. The distinctive sour taste of lemon juice makes it a key ingredient in drinks and foods such as lemonade.
(2) Material that contains explicit sexual content.
Visor-less once again, the boy trudges up the staircase in Rosa's house, having been allowed in by her mother. Apparently, the girl in question is upstairs, doing whatever it is she does when she's alone.
As it turns out, Nate had left his visor at her house the previous day and was looking to get it back today, as his visor was honestly the only thing that kept his monstrous hair up, if it was allowed to roam freely, it'd completely dominate his face, concealing his eyes and rendering him unable to see.
He could always get it cut, sure, but eh.
"Hah.."
The boy makes it to the top of the stairs, and wastes no time in getting to Rosa's room to retrieve his lost visor, lest he want it to be used in a shrine again. He pays little to no attention to the soft noises coming from the room.
"Hah..."
To him, it's none of his concern.
"Haaah!"
Until he actually walks into the room.
"Hey Rosa, look, I forgot my visor and I'm going to have to ask that you give it back to me befor-"
He is interrupted by another soft moan, and he only realizes what he has walked into until it is too late.
Her culottes are at her ankles, having been swiftly removed without a care. Her pantyhose are bunched up, lightly shoved just enough to reveal her feminine shame, while her panties hang off of one of her toes, threatening to be kicked away by the emotions produced by the forces of self-pleasuration.
He can't believe what he's seeing, which is good for him, considering that her eyes are closed, meaning that she has yet to notice his presence. She was probably too distracted to hear him as well, her moans probably being the only thing on her mind.
He also can't help but notice a certain something lodged into her private, forcefully, bobbing up and down in sync with the pleasure. It's clearly the central device to the whole ordeal.
He doesn't want to ask how she managed to fit that.
He's actually tempted to go join her by the lower half of his body, until he's reminded that she is of no sane variety. He quietly closes the door upon her quietly mumbling his name, in tune with her harsh breathing, and sweet lemony bliss.
He'll have to come back later.