The Logical Choice Is Pleasure
Five cocks.
Tecna had taken five glorious cocks into her body last night and she still couldn't process the reality of it. The pleasure, the torment, the absolute ecstasy. And the frustratingly harsh reality that those cocks belonged to each of her friends' boyfriends.
How was she going to tell them their boyfriends fucked her to mutual orgasm? She was also fairly certain Helia and Riven were going to fuck each other to mutual orgasm as soon as they left the club, but that was purely speculation. Tecna wasn't there to stick her nose in other people's love lives. She was there for the multiple loads of cum pumped into her pussy.
Loads of cum Tecna still hadn't managed to fully purge from her body. She'd be cleaning herself for days. If Mirta hadn't suggested a birth control spell beforehand, Tecna would have definitely ended up pregnant.
Even more frustrating was the inability to control the memories. They would pop into her mind at the most inconvenient times: Helia's lips when she was crafting healing brew in Potionology, Riven's brutality and stamina when she was supposed to be paying attention to a new spell in Transfiguration, Timmy's fingers as he coaxed her to orgasm - so patient, such a sweet burning fire between her legs - while Stella bitched about her mother at lunch. Remembering was going to drive her mad. Or to sexual frustration. Or both.
Definitely both.
"Something more interesting out on the quad, Tecna?" Miss Griselda snapped, glaring at Tecna over the rim of her glasses.
Tecna must have zoned out again. That made twice in the same day. Twice more than she had all semester. Any other professor would be concerned, but Griselda did not pull her punches no matter how well-scoring the student.
"No, Miss Griselda."
"Then I suggest returning your attention to page three hundred and ninety four and demonstrating to the class how one achieves a complete split-shield?"
Needless to say, Tecna's split shield required extensive work. It was laughable how badly she blundered it, one side of her digital web barely flickering to life.
Miss Griselda grumbled, unimpressed. "More studying and less daydreaming. This is highly unlike you, Tecna."
Tecna knew. Oh, she knew. But how was she supposed to focus on anything school-related when her mind was flooded with the impulse to go back to the club and recreate last night all over again?
Truly, she must be going mad. That was the only explanation for such a lack of logic.
On her way out of Self-Defense, Mirta grabbed her by the arm.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned. She eyed Tecna up and down, looking for any noticeable changes. "You never messaged me last night."
Another blunder for which Tecna cursed herself. She had been so consumed in her thoughts, in the adrenaline spike and the incredible surreality of what had happened inside the club, that she managed to walk the entire way back to Alfea in a daze. She hadn't slept a wink, her mind grappling with the reality of the kind of woman she was now and the choices she made...and the undeniable fact that she was far less satisfied with structure and order than she realized.
Tecna wasn't rules and straight lines and rigidity. She liked to be tied down. She liked to be manhandled. She liked to be used and abused.
What a thrilling, world-shattering revelation.
Of course, Mirta was not part of this revelation. Hence, the current conundrum.
"I'm fine," Tecna said with her most reassuring smile. "I'm sorry I forgot to call. My mind was...elsewhere."
"You could have been hurt!" Mirta admonished with those big, round eyes. "Lucy's told me stories about some of the guys that come in there. I was worried sick."
"I assure you I am physically unharmed," Tecna said, not trying to diminish Mirta's worry as she was sure terrible things could have happened so easily. Tecna was lucky; she was well aware of that. She had only fully considered the health and personal risks after walking halfway home alone in the dark as a single female with a hitch in her step, still sticky between the thighs.
"So...it was good then? You got what you wanted?"
"I did."
"Good. That's..." Mirta didn't have the words, and good was not the right one. Neither did Tecna. Mirta gave Tecna a half-smile. "I'll see you around?"
Tecna had a distinct feeling that she would never talk to Mirta again, but it didn't hurt as much as she expected. They weren't that close in the first place.
Still, Tecna nodded and watched Mirta turn her back on her and walk off towards her cleaner, newer friends. Friends who had never stepped foot into a sex club. Friends who had never let themselves be strapped to a wall and fucked by as many men as fate allowed. Part of Tecna understood - she was damaged now. She was nasty. She was something unique and strange and other. Her choices were too extreme, her tastes too exotic for a normal person to digest. Maybe if she had expressed regret, if she had broken down in tears, confessed she hated every second, and begged someone to save her, Mirta may have understood. She would pity and forgive and eventually move on. But Tecna couldn't bring herself to regret it. If this decision lost her Mirta, she would still make it again.
Class was over for the day. There was a mountain of homework to do, on top of the extra assignment Griselda slipped into the mix as punishment for Tecna's distraction. Tecna wasn't in the mood to touch any of it. She didn't even want to return to her room where her friends would be waiting with smiles and questions of how her day was, and she'd have to look them in the eye knowing she fucked their boyfriends.
And wasn't that just fucked - in the metaphorical sense? How could the Specialists get away with fucking a 'random woman' and maintain normal relationships with their girlfriends, while Tecna faced shame if she so much as opened her mouth about what happened? It would benefit everyone if Tecna forgot the whole ordeal and moved on...but her brain wouldn't let her.
Besides, forgetting wasn't the purpose of this exercise. Practice was the goal. Increasing her body count was the goal.
Her body count was...fuck, she didn't know. It was all a blur after the Specialists left. There were other men, other bodies moving inside hers, but her spirit had left the astral plane. None of the others came in her. None of the others even compared. But they counted, even if they weren't memorable.
Tecna's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, and the screen lit up with a message from Timmy.
My place? Tonight at 7?
The proposed location was...suspicious. Timmy rarely ever offered his dorm up as a hang-out spot for numerous reasons: the mess, the roommates, and Red Fountain's strict visitation policy. The time proposed also pushed their visit much later than both the visitation policy and Tecna's schedule allowed. Timmy had been hinting at something more this whole week. It was part of the reason Tecna was so eager to remove the obstacle of her inexperience...and clearly the reason Timmy was eager to remove his.
All evidence pointed to one outcome: sex.
Timmy wanted to be physically intimate with Tecna. Tonight.
I'll be there.
Tecna exhaled and put her phone away. The message was sent, and she was a woman of her word. No going back now.
Even with her newfound 'experience', Tecna did not expect this encounter to be exceptional.
Timmy was a nervous wreck from the time he answered the door to the time he stripped off his clothes in the dim, mood lighting - he had bought candles, for Dragon's sake! He touched Tecna like he was going to break her or she was going to burn him. It was awkward to be on the receiving end of it all, and Tecna was forced to face the truth that, when there was feelings involved, there was no escaping first-time jitters.
Everything was fine. Just...fine. Tecna could handle the nerves and the jitters; she had her own as well. Things would progress in their natural course and maybe, a couple months and many sexual acts later, they could laugh about this.
That was, until Timmy looked down and uttered a single, "Fuck."
Out of all the ways to have Timmy find out about her transgressions, she didn't want it to be when she was lying on her back, legs open and waiting for Timmy to get inside her. But to be fair to herself, she didn't think the birthmark on the inside of her right thigh would give her away so easily.
Clearly, she hadn't thought things through.
Cue: lying on Timmy's bed with his week-old sheets clutched to her bare chest, nipples peaking in the cool air, while Timmy paced the open space next to his desk, erection flagging between his bare, furred thighs.
(Timmy was actually a lot harrier than she expected. It wasn't exactly a turn-off, though his pubes were significantly darker than his hair which Tecna found fascinating - )
"It was you," Timmy said, dumbfounded. His eyes had bugged out to twice their usual size, as if he were some kind of human insect. "You were the girl in the cubicle."
"I believe the correct term is gloryhole," Tecna corrected softly, embarrassed and angry and ashamed and a dozen other emotions she couldn't quite untangle. "I thought it was an efficient way to remove the obstacle of virginity. First times are statistically unsatisfactory for both the male and female counterparts due to a lack of experience, expectation, or excess of enthusiasm. Clearly your analysis reached the same results, as you were present at the same club."
"I-I get why you'd want to..." Timmy shook his head and started to pace the room, an unhinged quality to his breathing. "I just wanted this to be special, you know? Something for the two of us to share together."
Because she could realize Timmy was in an emotional and illogical state of mind, she did not raise offense to the hypocrisy of his statement. He was allowed to fuck strangers in glory holes, but because Tecna had done the same, sex was no longer a special occasion. By his faulty logic, she had, in summary, ruined their first time.
Virginity was a social construct that held no logic - an archaic, misogynistic system that existed solely to shame women into submission. Honestly, it only took learning rudimentary biology to know that the vagina was a muscle that never broke or loosened or wore out over time, merely stretched and shaped and gave way to new life. She thought Timmy above such prejudices, but clearly he was struggling with the knowledge she had enjoyed sexual congress with others. There was a time when Tecna would have walked out and let Timmy find his own comfort, but she was fond of him. Impossibly fond. And so, in her own bout of illogic, she sought to smooth the situation.
"There are still plenty of sexual acts I have yet to attempt," Tecna defended herself, making a list. "I have never performed fellatio. You have never performed cunnilingus. I have never had an interest in anal sex, but if it something you are passionate about, I am sure we can - "
"Tecna, please stop," Timmy pleaded, his cheeks a violent shade of red. "I understand what you are trying to do. And no, I have no strong feelings about anal sex. We can barely get ourselves to missionary."
"We did a lot more than that the other night."
"Please, don't -" Timmy stopped himself short, shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I would appreciate it if you didn't bring up that night anymore."
"Why? We can't erase what happened," Tecna pointed out, matter of fact. "Are you so disgusted that I would have sex with someone else?"
"No! I would never - " Timmy shook his head vehemently, pulling at his hair as he tried to find the right words. People seemed to have that problem around her today. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"My friends?" Timmy confessed darkly, like it was breaking him inside. "Did it have to be my friends?"
Ah. Yes. She had almost forgot to whom the other cocks belonged. Almost. Now, she understood his inner conflict more clearly.
She got off the bed and took a tiny step closer to Timmy, dared to reach out and touch his arm as gentle as Flora stroked the wings of broken baby birds. "Would you feel differently about the situation if I had intercourse with five random men, and you had intercourse with a random prostitute?"
"Does it make me a terrible person if I say yes?"
"Perhaps." Tecna pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I am uncertain whether or not to feel as though my moral character is being judged by my sexual preferences."
"Oh, so this is a preference now? To get dicked down by five guys at once?"
"It would be a lie to say I did not immensely enjoy the experience, and as my first it exceeded expectations," Tecna replied, honest as always, even when it hurt. "I understand that I hurt you by sharing what should have been a private moment between us with your friends. But you have to understand that I had no control over who chose to visit my gloryhole. I was literally chained to a wall." Tecna could tell Timmy was loosening up, the tension in his shoulders draining. So she moved closer, put her hands on his shoulders, and she kept talking. "You were still the first man who ever had me."
Wrong thing to say.
The tension returned, and Timmy shrugged off Tecna's hands, as if he couldn't stand her touch. To say it didn't sting would be a lie.
"Yeah, it just so happens that all my friends had you right after."
"Would it help if I informed you that my experience with you was by far the best and most memorable?"
"I saw Sky's - " Timmy gestured to his crotch, unable to clarify. Jealousy painted a clear enough picture that Tecna could reach her own conclusions. "I wouldn't believe you."
Fair enough.
Cheering Timmy up clearly wasn't working. She was failing miserably, and the downward spiral of their relationship was eminent the longer this conversation continued. In a desperate attempt to right the situation, Tecna changed tactics.
"Penis size is hardly the only factor that contributes to good sex," Tecna muttered as she leaned back on the bed and put on her coyest, sexiest face. At least, that's what she hoped her face looked like as she spread her legs, bared herself to her boyfriend, and started touching herself. "I say we simply haven't collected enough data."
Said boyfriend looked at her like she had lost her mind. "What are you doing?"
Timmy was a little breathless. Tecna took that as a good sign to keep going.
"You only had intercourse with me once, and I have only technically had intercourse with you once as well. By those numbers, it is illogical to assume that any experience is best without a larger pool of data by which to compare."
It was hard to focus on being sexy when her heart was beating hard with nerves. Sweat beaded at her forehead, abdominal muscles cramping to maintain the half-sitting, half-lying angle that allowed her to maintain eye contact with Timmy while her hand busied stroking her clit in lazy circles. She didn't have much experience with masturbation. Sexual acts in general evaded her, but there was something pleasant about the slow-buildling fission of self-made pleasure.
Timmy remained transfixed on her fingers. Tecna could see the moment his anger gave way to desire, clouding his judgement, making all arguments inconsequential. She knew if he could just fuck her...if he could just have her again, he would see that he was being illogical, irrational, trapped within petty, unimportant details.
"So I should...you think we should...I...can we just- ?"
Timmy couldn't string a coherent sentence together. Tecna tried not to sound smug as she beckoned him to bed with a curved, glistening finger.
"I think you should come over here and make me forget about anyone else."
Like a man possessed, Timmy stumbled to the end of the bed and fell to his knees. He ran his hands up Tecna's ankles, her calves, over the birthmark on her inner right thigh. He leaned forward and placed a kiss to that mark, lips leaving scorching fires in their wake. He pulled her hips gently to the edge and hooked her legs over his shoulders, his mouth never leaving the soft, pale skin.
"You said you never tried - " Again, Timmy couldn't say the word, breathing heavy against the crease of her thigh. Tecna found it endearing this time, and exciting.
A blind man could see what what Timmy wanted, what those gleaming eyes desired. Gone was the rational, worried man from before. Now, Timmy was a man bewitched.
Tecna ran her fingers through the soft strands of Timmy's ginger hair. She traced over the curve of his cheekbone, the arch of his nose, and plucked his glasses from his face. She folded the frames gently and placed them on the bedside table. He wouldn't need them. He was close enough to see what he needed to do.
Hands reached out and pulled him onto the bed, encouraging Timmy to lie down until he was the one with his head against the pillow, back to the mattress, and Tecna was the one above him. Well, her pussy was above him, no doubt dribbling on his chin as she got acquainted with the patch of dark curls between his thighs and the erection growing there.
"No one has ever had you. Here?" she asked, lips ghosting the ruddy head, tasting salt and sweat and something inexplicably sweet. "Put their mouth on you?"
Slowly, slowly, the tip of her tongue traced up the bulging vein. Timmy let out a stuttering breath.
"No one else has done this?"
She hollowed her cheeks and took him into her mouth.
Part of Tecna was worried, scared she'd do something wrong. Fellatio was not part of her learning experience. There was no data to compare, no notes to review. Just the suction of her mouth and the undulation of her throat as she reflexively swallowed around Timmy's cock.
Hips snapped up immediately, arching into Tecna with a bitten howl, and she pulled back lest she choke and gag as the tip hit the back of her throat. Her eyes watered as she bobbed her head back and forth, trying to make this good. The muscles in his legs were pulled taut, like cords wound to the fraying point. He shivered violently as she blew him, moaning like the women at the club. Tecna took this all as a good sign, even as her eyes watered and burned.
Then, a tongue traced the swollen bead of her clitoris. Tecna moaned, fisting the sheets as Timmy continued to lick, slow and steady with the broad, flat side of his tongue. He swept up the center of her folds, lips sliding over her clit and sucking hard.
Tecna cried out, a jolt of pleasure jerking her hips in time to his strokes.
Hands came up to hold her down, curving over her hipbones and pinning her to his face. She would have bruises there tomorrow, brands the size of Timmy's fingers. That should not have been as arousing as Tecna found it, moaning at the thought of her pants riding down low and someone seeing, knowing exactly how they were made and who put them there.
Orgasm blindsided her, made her toes curl and her body numb. When her hips finally stopped spasming, Timmy unlatched himself from her clit and crawled over top of her. His pupils were blown black, his lips red and puffy. A smear of something clear and glistening coated his chin. Tecna didn't think anything of it as she reached up and pulled that mouth to hers, sticking her tongue inside to get a taste.
They made out like teenagers, wet and sloppy and horny. Hands groped at bare flesh, touching and squeezing their fill. Timmy kneaded the globes of Tecna's ass as he pulled their bodies together, his erection grinding against her stomach. Tecna traced every ridge of wiry muscle, circled his nipples and pinched, teased, watched for each gasp of breath and hiss of pleasure-pain.
When she reached for his erection, cock heavy and hot in her palm, Timmy grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. Confusion turned to curiosity when he pinned that hand, along with her other, above head head and bore it into the mattress, a silent command to stay. Tecna obeyed and kept her hands up, allowing Timmy to run his fingers through her hair, across her cheekbone, along her jawline, down the hollow of her clavicle, and wrap a palm around her throat.
Breath caught in Tecna's chest. She lied completely still, eyes blown wide, not sure what was going to happen next.
Apparently, next was two fingers in her pussy.
Timmy picked up where he left off, fucking her with two, then three fingers, all while keeping that gentle, constant pressure on her throat, thrilling and terrifying all at once. But she trusted Timmy, trusted him not to hurt her...at least not without her asking.
"Do you like this?" he asked, curling those long fingers into her just as he squeezed the hand around her neck. She gasped, and he asked again, "Do you like it when I fuck you like a whore?"
Tecna whined and turned her face into the pillow, grinding into Timmy's hand like a wonton nymphomaniac. She need more than his fingers, more than his lips. She needed...she needed -
"Fuck me," she begged, tears leaking out her eyes it was that good. "Fuck me, please."
Timmy grabbed her right thigh - fingers digging into the birthmark as the hand around her throat squeezed a little tighter. The sudden lack of air had Tecna seeing stars, vision blurring as the burn amplified the pleasure, and he pushed inside her in one swift stroke, balls slapping against her skin as he bottomed out. Her thigh trembled with the stretch, the incredible fullness that she had craved ever since she left the club.
Don't think about the club, she told herself as Timmy picked up the pace, bordering between rough and brutal as he pounded into her. She didn't think he had this kind of energy in him, the strength to make the bed frame creak and the headboard bang against the plaster walls. The kind of stamina to pull her legs apart even further and fuck her harder, deeper, until he was hitting that sweet spot over and over again, making her lose her mind.
This was going to be over far too quickly. She was going to come twice in the span of five minutes. It was going to happen. The edge was so close, every muscle coiled, ready to fall over and -
The door burst open and Brandon barged in, nose in his phone.
"Hey dude, I just got a video from that club we went to, and you're not gonna believe who's insi - "
Brandon looked up and dropped his phone. The screen cracked as it skittered across the floor, landing at the foot of the bed. The foot of the bed Tecna was currently getting fucked on. Which now attracted an audience of four as Sky, Riven, and Helia trailed in behind him.
Maybe it was the hand at her throat. Maybe it was how Timmy didn't stop moving, so hot, so perfect inside her. Maybe it was the mortification of being seen in such a compromised state mixed with thrill of being caught in something so erotic, so forbidden, five pairs of eyes focused on nothing but her pleasure, that had her whole body convulsing with the force of her orgasm.
When she came to, Timmy was trembling, shaking on strained arms. Whether that was from his own orgasm or from the anger painting his cheeks red, Tecna couldn't be sure. All she knew was that the gleam in his eye was doing something for her, her body oversensitive and raw but still begging for more.
Timmy rolled off her and got up from the bed, glaring at his squad. He pointed to the door with one commanding finger. The same finger he'd just used to get her off, shining in the candlelight.
"Get out."
"Hey, we just came to tell you that your girlfriend's a whore." Riven shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, smug though everyone could see his tenting erection. "Glad you were able to work through your diff- "
Timmy slammed the door in their faces and locked it just like he should have the first time.
Something about him looked different as he walked back over to the bed. He didn't get in with her, just stood at the edge, not looking at Tecna but instead focusing on the headboard like he was processing something. The vein at his temple throbbed and his hands clenched tightly in fists.
Was he angry at his friends? Did he think that his first time was ruined once again? Did he really believe that Tecna was a whore, like Riven claimed? He had called her that in bed before...
No, this was different. This wasn't anger or sadness like before. There was something much more primal about this anger, like Timmy was at war with himself. Mad at himself. Restraining himself.
And that's when it clicked.
Timmy was turned on, and he was upset about it.
"You were quick to bring up my deviances, but it seems as though you have a few of your own," Tecna commented, enthralled by this side to her boyfriend. Already, her mind raced with the pleasurable possibilities of a voyeuristic streak. She spread her legs, beckoned him closer. "Care to find out how many?"