"Thank you for coming."
Cerise nods. An awkward beat passes. Rather than stepping aside, Sable just stands there at the threshold, as if waiting for something.
"...Can I come inside?" Cerise asks.
"Oh. Yes." Sable at last makes way for Cerise to enter the little apartment.
Sable will be going to New York City on a redeye flight tonight, there to interview for a position at a major financial institution as one of their head analysts. She'll be on the east coast for a week, first for a few days in the city, and then a few more to visit her family upstate in Oneida. Thus the reason Cerise is here: Sable wants her to apartment-sit.
As an enticement, not that Cerise needed to be enticed, Sable finally relented to a longstanding offer to appear on the Sakura Dokuhaku livestream. The stream is slated for this evening, and will take place in Sable's bedroom.
Cerise hopes that Sable's bedroom is more suitable for use as broadcasting set than the living area is. This apartment is a disaster, crammed with random cardboard boxes that bulge with miscellaneous electronics and computer parts. It is a hygienic disaster, in fairness, at least: there are no food containers, dirty dishes, dust, soiled laundry to be spied. Just piles and piles and piles of E-junk, papers, books, wires, tools. Near one wall -- not pushed against it, but at an awkward spot a few feet away -- stand some portable whiteboards that Cerise is reasonably certain have been pilfered from North High. The whiteboards are littered with a panoply of many-colored post-it notes detailing the flitting chaos of Sable's imagination. It's a riot of scrawlings beyond Cerise's ability (or desire) to reckon. Cerise now understands why Sable preferred to live in more mobile environs. Having the space to stretch out only leads to this jumbled mess. Marie Kondo she isn't.
Alex is kicked back on a chocolate brown leather loveseat, besocked feet resting atop a low coffee table and crossed at the ankles. He's eating chips and reading a book -- a horror manga on loan from Cerise herself. She got him started on the classics, and right now he's working his way through Uzumaki.
"Hey Cerise," Alex says airily, not even glancing up from the book.
Cerise lets her duffel gently down in the foyer and glances all about in search of a clock. What she finds, finally, half-obscured by other shit, is an antiquated-looking Nixie tube clock on a mantle above the fireplace. It's 8:44 PM.
"Should you be going home soon?" Cerise asks.
Alex just kind of shrugs.
More or less, Alex lives at Sable's apartment. He helped her pick it out (read: forced her to move out of her van). He helped her get situated and shop for furniture (read: forced her to furnish her home like a halfway normal human). And now he helps her tidy, as best he can (read: there are some things even Alex can't force Sable to do, and fighting the losing battle against clutter is one). It's become somewhat normalized that Alex spends the majority of his free time here. But Alex is still a student at North High, and a minor to boot, if only for a couple more months. Everyone looks the other way, but Cerise occasionally wonders when -- if? -- Alex's grandparents will raise hackles about this improper student-teacher relationship.
Sable breezes by. She enters the apartment's kitchen, and now is visible only from the chest up, separated from the living room by a high counter that forms a sort of half-wall. It's then Cerise becomes aware of how muggy it is in the apartment, glances up and sees steam wafting heavily across the ceiling. She surmises that a pot of water is boiling rapidly on the stovetop.
"Ms. Guiteau wanted me to stay for dinner -- and tonight's stream," Alex explains.
Cerise would usually warm at an offer to have her trusted assistant Besuto along for a night of streaming. Right now, though, she's a little worried about the food: "I thought you were ordering pizza," she tells Sable, a hesitant catch in her voice.
"I decided to cook for you," Sable says.
Ohhh man. That's what Cerise was worried about. Sable's hands are working on something, but the partition between kitchen and living room obscures what tonight's meal is. So Cerise is forced to find bravery enough and ask: "Oh? What are you cooking?"
"Spaghetti."
Cerise considers this. Hard to fuck up spaghetti, right? You cook the pasta, you warm the sauce. Simple. Sable can manage that much.
As Sable busies herself with dinner, Cerise steps to the couch and lightly swats Alex's thigh just below the cuff of his shorts. "Scoot," she commands. Alex scoots. Cerise settles in beside him and asks, "how are you liking Uzumaki?"
"It's so messed up!" Alex says. "I love it!"
"Attaboy," Cerise says. She's not going to fail at instilling good taste in Alex like she did with Alabaster and Rose. As Alex begins again to read, Cerise thinks for a moment or two, and asks: "so are you staying the night here, or...?"
Alex nods. "I was figuring on it, yeah. You okay with that?"
"Does your grandma..." Cerise begins.
"Alex's grandmother is a cunt," Sable says.
Cerise twists and glances over the couch's headrest, towards the kitchen where Sable works with her back to them. "Sable, that's..."
"Did I say that out loud?" Sable says.
"Yes."
Sable doesn't turn around, and doesn't miss a beat with her cooking. "Sorry. What I meant to say is that Alex's grandmother is a *worthless*, **miserable** cunt who doesn't deserve guardianship over him. And that any night Alex spends here is one night fewer for his grandmother to be a worthless, miserable cunt to him. Do you like Parmesan cheese?"
Alex snrks.
With a confused murmur, Cerise twists herself back into a forward-facing position. If the two of them are agreed on things, it's no use trying to question their arrangement. "Yeah, I like Parmesan cheese," Cerise says.
Alex lays a hand gently on Cerise's leg. Maybe a bit higher than propriety dictates. Cerise's heart thuds harder than normal for one beat. "Don't worry," Alex tells her. "She never cares when I'm away at Ms. Guiteau's for the night. Let's have fun, huh?"
---
Sable fucked up the spaghetti.
What Sable sets before Cerise where she sits at the little square dining table (the one Alex, prior to dinner, so helpfully cleared of hex-head nuts and bits of a deconstructed PC tower from 1997) is a plate of waterlogged noodles, incompletely strained and improperly cooked. Half of it looks so soggy that it's about to disintegrate. The other half looks raw. And bafflingly, bits of it are singed black. But the horror doesn't end there. Sable opens a can of crushed tomatoes, right at the table, using a pair of needle-nosed pliers to stab the top of the can in two locations. The noise of it makes Cerise jump in fright. Sable pours the tomatoes, unheated, unseasoned, over the pasta -- and this, apparently, is her idea of spaghetti sauce. She then upends a bright green container of processed Parmesan cheese onto the slop.
"Th-thank you," Cerise mumbles.
"Of course."
When Sable has doled out a plate for Alex and herself as well, she sits and waits, hands neatly folded, for her guests to take the first bites. Cerise is reminded of medieval parleys in which enemies would break bread, but one side would wait for the other to sample the food first and thus confirm there is no poison.
"This is..." Cerise begins.
"Go on," Sable says.
Sable, who helped convince Cerise to apply for college and who taught her so much about hardware mods and programming -- and whose temper is, on the best of nights, volatile -- is hard to say no to. Cerise picks up her fork and gamely tries a little nibble of Sable's, uh, cuisine. It tastes like shit, as expected, and the texture is even worse. Cerise visibly struggles to swallow.
"You don't like it," Sable says.
"I -- nooo," Cerise lies. "It's... it's fiiine."
But Sable's not a dummy. She stands and goes to the kitchen again. A split second later she returns with a salt shaker and a pepper grinder. Though Cerise holds out a hand to deter her, Sable either doesn't notice or doesn't care. She begins shaking salt in copious amounts over the top of the spaghetti and tomato sauce and cheese. "Say when," she says.
Cerise casts an uncertain glance in Alex's direction. She has no idea how to be a gracious guest here. Alex is obviously concerned himself, and the look he gives Cerise in return inspires zero confidence. The moment lingers -- then, realizing that Sable is still going with the salt, Cerise physically pushes the shaker away from the food. "When."
Sable sets the shaker down and takes the pepper grinder next.
"Say when," she instructs as she starts to twist the grinder's crank.
"When," Cerise immediately says.
Sable sets the grinder down. Nods. "I see. So my mistake was too little salt. There was already enough pepper."
"That's not -- there wasn't any -- I mean --"
"Ms. Guiteau," Alex says. His voice has a firmer tone to it than normal -- with an air to it of, "cut the shit already."
"What?" Sable barks. She sits again, and worries her hands in her lap. She already knows what.
Alex nods at her. "Let's order pizza, huh?"
Rather than explode, Sable is distraught. Her breathing becomes weird, syncopated, and she can't look either Cerise or Alex in the eye.
"We'll make spaghetti together when you come back from New York," Alex tells her.
"I should be able to cook for you," Sable says. "I should be able to do that much. You do so much for me."
"Well, if you want to cook for me... I'll have to teach you how I like to be cooked for!" Alex laughs.
Sable nods. "That makes sense."
Alex turns Cerise's way. "Do you like white pizza?"
---
Cerise cleans the dishes while they wait for the pizza to arrive. Sable becomes downcast and mopey and quieter than usual, retreating to the living room couch to browse her laptop and make some final updates to her CV. It's Alex who tries to cheer her up: he crawls across the couch on all fours, like a slinking cat, and butts into Sable's personal space. The tip of his nose is practically against her cheek.
"Hey cutie," he says.
Sable refuses to respond. She turns her body away from him, just slightly, trying to force him out of her bubble.
"What time do we need to go live?" Alex asks.
Sable again says nothing, so Cerise fills him in. "We're doing a late-night stream," she says as she puts a plate in the drying rack beside the sink. "12 AM start, running until whenever. Sable wants to go straight to the airport after we're finished."
Alex grins at Cerise from over his shoulder. "That means we've got some time to kill."
---
Alex says it's his favorite movie. It's called Birdemic: Shock and Terror, and it's the worst piece of shit Cerise has ever seen in her life. That's why it's Alex's favorite. His genuine enthusiasm for the movie's wooden acting, inept sound editing, PSX tier CG animation, and meandering story is infectious. Sable herself -- Sable, ice queen of all ice queens -- laughs right along with him, her sadness from dinner totally washed away. Cerise can't but marvel at how skilled Alex is at defusing Sable's moods.
Although it's Cerise's first time watching this garbage movie, it obviously isn't Sable's. Cerise actually begins to feel like a third wheel as Alex and Sable, between bites of pizza, take turns reciting lines of awful dialogue:
"That is it! I'm getting myself a car that's environmentally friendly!" Alex says, complete with over-the-top hand motions, eliciting peals of delighted laughter from Sable that Cerise had no idea the woman was even physically capable of producing.
"Waoww, congratulatish. I think you'll look great in those lingerie," Sable says in a pitch-perfect impression of the lead actor's mealy-mouthed roboticism, making Alex almost double over.
Whenever polygonal birds fill the screen, Alex and Sable bat at the air with wire coathangers just like the actors do, jostling and bouncing around beside each other on the loveseat. Cerise wasn't expecting prop comedy to enter the equation tonight, and can't begin to join in their private version of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Not that she isn't enjoying herself. How can she not, watching a film where flocks of birds rendered on an Amiga 3000 divebomb into buildings and explode like dynamite? She giggles like an idiot the whole way through, too.
When the credits roll and Sable closes her laptop's lid, killing its projection to the TV screen -- there's that typical post-movie moment of awkward silence as everyone wonders what to do now.
"What time is it?" Alex asks.
Sable checks that Nixie tube clock. "10:30."
There's still time to kill before the stream. Alex seems to have in mind just the way to do it. Sable, who sits in the middle on this loveseat that's cramped with three people, startles when Alex runs a hand along her thigh. He leans in real close, and repeats his cue from earlier: "hey cutie."
Sable averts her gaze: "We should get ready for Cerise's show."
"We have time," he says. He kisses Sable on the cheek and nuzzles her. "You'll be gone for so long... shouldn't we make the most of tonight?"
Cerise is a willing accomplice. She always is when things turn horny. When Sable tries to stand, Cerise helps Alex force her back down by holding Sable's other thigh. Cerise kisses Sable too, nuzzles her cheek too, and drawls "hey cutie" too.
Sable, being groped and nuzzled from both sides, lets out a distressed murmur. But she puts up no resistance when Cerise unbuttons her trousers, nor when Alex runs a hand underneath her top. She squirms only a little when Cerise kisses her full-on on the lips. When Alex takes over, turning Sable's face towards his, Sable even kisses him back. Alex mauls her little A-cup breasts underneath her shirt while he slides his tongue to the back of her throat. This turn towards the lewd has happened so suddenly that Sable has no choice but surrender to it.
"We'll give you something to remember us by while you're away," Alex promises her between kisses.
"Ahhn~" is Sable's only intelligible response, as she lifts her tailbone high enough for Cerise to help her out of her pants. They leave them bunched up on the carpet around her ankles. Sable's blue-and-white striped panties are half saturated with arousal already, and are squishy to Cerise's touch. Cerise prods Sable's puffy labia through the fabric, with enough force to produce a slight but noticeable jiggle. Alex laughs girlishly at the sight. Cerise snakes a hand under Sable's waistband next, and Alex is quick to do the same, joining her inside his teacher's underwear.
This is pretty routine. Cerise is intensely interested in Sable's pretty pussy, its heat and slippery tightness, and never passes up a chance to finger her. But Alex knows what Sable likes best of all, and gets to work dutifully fingering Sable's rear hole. Anal masturbation is the only way Sable got off before meeting Alex. Even now, it's the surest-fire way to get her really juicing. While Cerise takes a turn putting her tongue in the back of Sable's slender throat, Alex hunches over and watches, up-close, how Sable's undies bulge from the presence of two molesting hands. It smells really good down here, with his face right up close to Sable's crotch.
Sable pulls away from Cerise's violating mouth long enough to peer down at where her other two orifices are being violated. "You... animals..." she breathes lovingly. A moment later: "get me naked, spread me open..."
They get her naked and spread her open. Cerise peels away her coat and shirt, Alex peels off her panties. They get her legs akimbo, one in each of their laps, so that Sable sits perched on her coccyx with her holes pointing practically at the ceiling. She holds her fists balled up beneath her chin, trembling and totally at their whim. She's such a slight and frail-looking woman, but her holes are so juicy and succulent. Cerise delights in toying with Sable's unusually fat and dark pink clit, rubbing it in fast rough circles. Alex enjoys corkscrewing his fingers in and out of Sable's spongy asshole. No extra lube is required for Alex to get knuckle-deep up his teacher's ass. The overflow from her needy, spasming pussy is enough.
"Play with us too, Ms. Guiteau," Alex commands. He takes her thin wrist and directs her hand towards his crotch. Sable needs no further instruction. Of course she doesn't -- she jerks Alex's cock off all the time, after all -- here in her apartment, after school at the robotics club, in her van while they drive around town on a date... Sable loves toying with the velvety hardness and hot heavy heft of Alex's surprisingly meaty and masculine dick. She molests him whenever she has the chance, even at times when it risks her getting caught. She can't help it. She's in love with his cock.
"Me, too... me, too..." Cerise puffs through her increasingly uncontrolled excitement. As Alex did, Cerise guides Sable's hand towards her crotch.
These two students of Sable's now are taking full sexual advantage of her. They finger her together, so viciously that the sound carries through the room. They ravish her thin face and neck with kisses so desperate that Sable begins to get wet with their saliva. And they make Sable masturbate their horny genitals, too. It's a good thing Sable can multitask: she unbuttons and unzips both pairs of shorts, and fishes Alex's already leakingly hard cock out at the same time as she plunges her fingers into Cerise's slimy, puffy hole. "You weren't wearing underwear..." Sable notes, and swallows hard. "Nnn... you two were planning to do this to me all along, weren't you..."
"Hmm, maybe," Alex murmurs with a low laugh. The truth is this attack was spontaneous, but Cerise and Alex like to go without underwear precisely for that reason -- precisely because you never know when you're going to be struck with the irresistible urge to get off. The lack of underwear makes things easy for Sable: she jerks on Alex's cock and slides four of her slender fingers in and out of Cerise's hungry hole. Alex and Cerise encourage her by fingering her own holes even faster. They tweak her nipples with rough pinches and little bites, too. Sable's entire body trembles, from her spindly legs resting in her students' laps, to her torso that's so thin you can see the ribcage, to her jaw that chatters like she's freezing. Her holes tremble, too, and spasm and convulse around these invading fingers, sucking them ever deeper into her welcoming body.
It isn't long like this, before the three of them are cumming wetly all over each other. Alex squirts a hot load of semen into Sable's palm; Cerise sprays the inside of her shorts with cream; and Sable's battered orifices squelch as she sprays an arc of female cum so high and so far that it hits the coffee table in front of the couch. Sable shrieks in delight: "Harder! Harder you stupid fucking whores!" as her orgasm takes an aggressive edge. When Alex tries to kiss her during her cum, Sable slaps him across the face, leaving a smear of Alex's own jizz across his cheek, lips, and chin. This doesn't deter him even a little. He digs his fingers even deeper and even more cruelly into Sable's rear hole, and forces the kiss on her anyway. Sable screams obscenities into his throat while he tongues her, her voice a muffled, spittle-y "mfff-fff-fmfmff" of indecipherable ranting. They swap Alex's genetic material back and forth like this, while Sable's body is wracked with rolling orgasms.
Cerise rubs her thumb on Sable's throbbing clit, and mashes her fingers against the roof of Sable's cuntal walls, at the place Cerise is well aware functions as Sable's G-spot. Sable squirts so much, so violently, that Cerise is sure the woman is just pissing herself at this point -- but the juice is transparent and fragrant the way a girl's cum should be as it pools on the couch and the ground and the table in deep, messy puddles.
Cerise finishes cumming too, and shimmies her way away free from this masturbation ménage à trois. With a start, she notices the time, and hurries to her duffel to dig out her Sakura Dokuhaku getup. The stream is due to start soon.
Too bad Alex and Sable are oblivious to time -- they're raring for round two. When Sable unleashes a barrage of further slaps to Alex's face, Alex, his cock still hard and dripping, overpowers her. He forces her onto her back and climbs on top of her. Doubling her torso over itself, he stands barefoot on the couch and gets her into a mating press: using Sable's thighs as handles while he fucks his cock down into her body. He switches at will between Sable's asshole and pussy, enjoying her lower holes to their fullest extent. Sable caterwauls in ecstastic rage: "I LOVE YOU! STUPID FUCKING FAGGOT CUNT! FUCK ME HARDER! AREN'T YOU A MAN? COME CLOSER SO I CAN HIT YOU!"
Cerise lets them fuck while she changes into her costume and sneaks into Sable's bedroom to examine The Setup.
---
Sable's room is a space so clogged with spare parts that it makes the living room look like an experiment in radical minimalism. But a little section in one corner has been specially carved-out, prepared for public presentation: the area on and around a computer desk. Cerise discovers it already cleared of all detritus, and surrounded with a white tarp to shield the eyes of viewers from the chaotic mess beyond. The essentials for Sakura Dokuhaku's first-ever guest-hosted episode are ready and waiting. There are webcams at several angles, to showcase not only their faces but their cruelly nimble hands; there is a small white workbench waiting to accommodate the circuit-bending; and atop it, there is Sable's contribution, a Sony HB-F1XDJ, one of her prized possessions; as well as a Yamaha CX5M and synth keyboard, replete with the necessary cabling to make tonight's demos work. Sable's got the streaming software all set up and ready to go, too. It's as plug-and-play as can be. Cersie smiles, unzips her duffel, and begins to arrange tonight's victims: a couple of highly-prized Era 1 Furbys, specifically a "Dragon" and "Lady Bug" model.
The rhythmic noise of flesh hitting flesh melded with Sable's howling orgasms come to a sudden halt. But the air is heavy with a sense of tension. Cerise knows that, right at this very instant, Alex is dumping a load inside Sable's pussy. The thought makes her own pussy start to drip again, just a little. That suspended moment of silence also ends all at once, when, a few moments later, a series of satisfied sighs rise from the living room. Alex and Sable are done mating like wild animals. For now.
They cut it pretty close. The show needs to start in just a few minutes. Sable and Alex have just enough time left over from their mating session to get changed. They burst into the bedroom, panicked, tossing clothes this way and that as they race to make the midnight start time. Cerise watches them, bemused.
"That's the outfit you're going with?" Cerise asks Sable.
Sable, one arm inside her labcoat and one arm outside it, is a little put off. "...It isn't good," she says, possibly as a question, although the lack of inflection makes it hard to tell.
"It's fine," Cerise says. "But you said you put a lot of thought into it. That's just what you always wear."
Sable shakes her head, and, as she pulls the labcoat fully on, she taps a little nametag on her chest. It says "Sofia Sant-Elizabeth" in block letters.
"A nametag," Cerise says flatly, eyes narrowing.
"And" Sable adds, without any further elaboration, before pulling out a mask that covers just one half of her face like the Phantom of the Opera.
"Now we're getting somewhere," Cerise laughs. Sable is a fan of Cerise's stream after all, and knows quite well the signature gimmick of Cerise's vaunted Furby Organ.
Alex, for his part, dresses in the Besuto standard, as first conceived by Alabaster. Cerise reckons it's about the only good idea Alabaster has ever or will ever have. Alex looks so good as a slutty succubus that merely looking at him in his costume makes Cerise want to utterly ruin him... get ahold of yourself now, Cerise, she thinks...
Alex adjusts his fishnets and makes sure the straps on his pumps are tight. To do this he bends in half at the waist, poking his ass prominently out into the air. Both women stare at him without any shame. As Alex straightens his spine, he notices the Furbys Cerise set on the workbench, and breathes a sigh of appreciation. "Whoaa, those are cool ones... what're we gonna do to 'em?"
---
Cerise is solo when she first goes live. She salutes, back of her palm to her brow. "Sakura Dokuhaku here. Wow, we've got a full house already! Look at that view count. Now -- you might notice something slightly amiss about this setup, huh? Where am I? ... Well, those of you who saw the streams on Monday and Wednesday should remember that I was setting up to do a special demo on new hardware for tonight's stream. So tonight, we unveil it! Besuto!"
Alex is always shy about his appearances on stream, and tonight he's especially so. Not only are Cerise and 150-odd viewers watching him, but now also his beloved Ms. Guiteau. He may be bold enough to pin her down and inseminate her, but he wilts at the thought that she might not like his showmanship. He shuffles into frame, wringing the ruffled hem of his black-and-white micro-mini skirt.
"Back on Wednesday, Besuto helped me make some MSX-compatible sound recordings on the Furby Organ. He burned those audio files to a disk... Besuto, show them."
Alex holds up a disk.
"You don't see these things much these days," Cerise says, and grabs it from him. Alex's hand stays up and his fingers stay pinched together as if he's still holding it. But Cerise is displaying it to the camera, holding it way up close. "3.5 inch floppy. This is practically an antique!" Cerise tosses the disk onto the desktop and it slides a short distance with a satisfying clack. "Not the only 3.5 inch floppy around here, huh?" Cerise adds with a snicker.
"S-sakura," Alex squeaks.
"I'm just kidding, Besuto. It's a little bigger than 3.5 inches." She reaches back and gropes him -- just for a split second -- which is enough to make him jump in fright, and try to force her back by grabbing her wrist with both hands. When she backs off, Alex is still covering his crotch as if he's been stripped naked, knees nearly touching.
"...Pretty floppy, though," Cerise adds, rubbing her chin. She stares at him in silence, just long enough for it to be awkward. "Sit down already. Yeesh."
Alex sits in the chair beside her.
"Do you recognize these Furbys?" Cerise asks.
"I think so," Alex says. His blush is subsiding. "One is a Ladybug, right? And the other... Ocean?"
"Dragon," Cerise corrects. "Show them off, boy."
Cerise switches to a different camera, and Alex shows the Furbys off by pointing to them, each in turn, his slender hands indicating their splendor. He could be a hand model -- Cerise uses him as such quite often.
"Pick one up," Cerise says.
Alex picks the Ladybug up, and as he does, the hinged plastic plate on the bottom comes loose and swings open. The thing has no batteries.
"Oh no," Alex says, although he's in on the gag, and knows this is all a part of the script. He picks the other Furby up to show that it's in the same state. "Our subjects don't have any juice..."
"Too bad," Cerise says, shrugging theatrically. "Guess there's no show tonight, after all--"
Surreptitiously, she triggers a prerecorded sound cue. Thunder claps resound. Sable, from off-screen, flips the bedroom's lightswitch on and off for effect. Following this comes the opening licks from the main theme of The Phantom of the Opera, as rendered by zombified Furbys: "Aaaaaa-chooooooo~! -- CHOO-CHOO-CHOO-CHOO-CHOO!"
Sable enters from stage left. The half of her face not concealed by the mask, she conceals with her splayed-out palm. She definitely practiced her evil cackle beforehand: "Gua-ha-ha-ha-ha!!" She rips her palm away from her face pose with her arm at a 45 degree angle from her body, elbow locked; the swiftness of the motion makes her labcoat audibly rustle. "You've entered the realm of... Sofia Sant-Elizabeth!"
As difficult as it was to get Sable onto the Sakura Dokuhaku livestream -- now that she's here, she's jumped in with both feet. Cerise struggles to remain in character and not start giggling and clapping in childlike delight. Beyond the joy of seeing Sable's debut up-close and personal, Cerise is delighted because she knows that just as soon as Renee gets wind of this little guest episode, she'll finally want to do a guest ep of her own -- those two women can never let the other have a glory to themselves.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Cerise says. "Sofia Sant-Elizabeth has entered the building!"
Alex is less contained than Cerise is. He does giggle and clap.
But though Sable may have had her entire entrance planned to the minutest detail, she obviously didn't think beyond it. She stands there as if turned to stone, clearly unsure what to do next.
"Come on and sit," Cerise gently suggests.
Sable sits.
---
While all three of them have their own dramatic flamboyance, they tone things down a bit when it comes to the nitty-gritty of technical discussion.
"Well -- this is your setup," Cerise says. "Tell us a little bit about it. Why MSX?"
"The MSX architecture is extremely versatile," Sable says. "It can be used for... so many different applications... here, for example." She motions at her two different computers on the workbench. "The HB-F1XDJ is just perfect as your daily driver for gaming, programming... it has sequencing capabilities too. But the Yamaha CX5M, which runs on the same architecture, is a purpose-built synthesizer and music editor. Tonight we'll be using b--"
A short jingle plays from the stream software, followed by a sound cue of a Furby saying, "dah may-may..." Sable, who didn't expect the interruption, startles.
Alex loves to shoutout viewers when he's on the stream, so Cerise lets him take it from there. "Thanks so much, Tom underscore Servo, for the 8 month resub!--"
Another jingle, and a Furby voice saying: "dah dah may-tah..."
"--And the $20 donation!" Alex adds. His eyes go from squinched nearly shut to almost popping out of his skull. "Wowww! That's awesome!" He leans in and reads the screen. "Servo says, 'your new guest host is so cute! I wish I had a wife like her!'..."
Sable makes a tiny squeak and turns red.
Alex's Besuto character usually reserves his dark and glowery side for the Furbys. But tonight his face goes frighteningly blank as he stares into the main webcam to address the stream's 200 viewers directly. "Back off, Servo. She's mine."
Sable makes a slightly louder squeak and turns even redder.
Then the bright cheery smile comes back to Alex's lips as if it never left, and he lays his cheek against his clasped-together hands as if pantomiming going to bed: "Terribly sorry that you didn't get to her first! But we really appreciate the dono anyway!"
"For sure," Cerise adds, and does Sakura Dokuhaku's signature salute-and-wink. "How's the sound quality on the MSX?" Cerise asks, turning towards Sable.
Sable clears her throat and takes a moment to compose herself. She takes the floppy disk of Furby noises and puts it in her daily driver, navigates to the first file, then hits the play button. Rather than the devilish crescendo of tortured Furby music, a staticky, garbled mess of noise issues. "Not great," she says.
"What can we do about it?"
"You would need to add a sound card... luckily, I have several to choose from." Sable produces a box and sets it on the bench. "Moonsound is generally a go-to," she says, indicating the deck. But she sets it aside: "today I'd like to try something new." She fishes through and finds what she wants, handing it to Cerise. "This one."
"Hah," Cerise says, reading the deck's name. "That's my little sister's friend." She glances up. "My sister's on study-abroad in Japan right now -- she has a friend with this same name."
"Mm," Sable says. She motions for Cerise to hand the deck back, and takes it. "I bought this from a hobbyist down in Florida. This will be its inaugural test."
Sable wheels her chair up to the workbench and clacks the deck into the expansion slot. But she pauses for a moment, thinking. She glances over her shoulder, back at Cerise. "The person I bought this from mentioned that he's a fan of the stream. Maybe he's watching tonight."
"Oh man," Alex laughs. "Testing his gear live on stream while he's watching? I'd be sweating bullets!"
"Give it a go," Cerise says.
Sable navigates to the correct file and hits play. This time, rather than sounding like rejected samples from Sinistar, the manifold voices of the zombie slaves Cerise recorded on her Furby Organ back at home are crystal-clear, albeit noticeably MIDI-fied. Having been recorded directly from the Furbys' sound chips to the MSX sound format, they also lack the sometimes-obnoxious mechanical whirr of plastic gears grinding against one another. All that's left is pure, distilled, Furbic agony.
"Oh my god," Cerise breathes. The stream is lighting up with cheers and donations. Alex is clapping. "Folks," Cerise says, "this is coming out of a computer made in the 1980s. This is..." Her eyes light up as she notices that the expansion deck has an onboard volume dial. She extends a white-gloved hand and cranks it up as far as it goes. Worries, achoos and boh-bays wash across the room with the swoopingly thunderous resonance of thrash metal. "Freaking amazing. Hey Florida guy, if you're out there, this one's for you." Another salute and wink, this time with a slightly poked out tongue, and a little adjustment to her black-rimmed glasses.
"But we want to do a live recording," Sable says. "We can, if you hook up your test subjects to my Yamaha, actually capture their cries in realtime... and preserve them for eternity on the MSX."
"Let's fucking go," Cerise says, pumped like nothing else. She and her trusty sidekick Besuto are already wiring the battery-less Furby toys to the CX5M, using the same methods Cerise employed on her full-scale Furby organ.
A little ad-hoc circuit-bending lets her assign a different noise to every key of the Yamaha's keyboard: the Dragon model to the low octaves, the Ladybug model to the high octaves. From there she can sample their pained noises at will and sequence them into music tracks -- if it can even be called music. She, Alex, and Sable all take turns messing around with improvised creations, sequencing little files of their own.
Cerise's musical creation is especially elaborate. She plays the Ave Maria in Furbish, her delicate fingers sliding across the Yamaha's keys with a methodical grace and elan, to produce the most fucked-up rendition of Schubert's masterpiece ever recorded by humans.
Alex reads another donor chat. "Benderman1840 wants to know: 'have you always had an interest in music, Sakura?'"
Cerise shrugs. "I took a couple classes when I was little. My little brother's girlfriend -- recently she wants to start a band, you know... so I've been dabbling a little bit again, since she wants me on the keyboard."
"How exciting," Sable says. "I wonder if--" she stops, thinks, and tries again in her more theatrical Sofia Sant-Elizabeth voice: "any band worth anything needs an audio engineer! What do you say?"
Cerise strikes a chord on the Yamaha: "Worry."
"GraphCrafter wants to know whether Sofia Sant-Elizabeth has any other tricks up her sleeve." Alex glances at his lover/teacher. "Well?"
Sable laughs: "guahahah! Tune in again and find out, why don't you?" She suggestively holds up some spare bits of wire as if to say, guess where these will go next.
---
Sable and Alex shower together after the stream ends. Strange as it is to think, Sable conducted the entire livestream while dripping with Alex's sperm -- and Alex's panties were pretty messy too for that matter.
Cerise would join the couple in the shower, but thinks better of it. She lets them have a little bit of alone time in there. It's the last bit of togetherness that they'll have for a little while, after all. Sable's imminently upcoming weeklong trip is the longest period of separation the two will have had since they met. Cerise is sure they want to enjoy the moment while they can.
The sounds that emanate leave very little doubt that they're enjoying the moment quite well. There is definitely more than showering going on behind the bathroom door.
---
Sable is uncertain as she packs the last of her things.
"What did you think? Was it good?"
"You *have* to come back on the show sometime," Cerise insists. "It was such a great change of pace! You could do all sorts of guest spots."
Sable smiles to herself, and zips up her suitcase. "I guess I make a good mad scientist, huh."
"The best!" Alex agrees.
Cerise follows Sable towards the front of the apartment, to see her off.
"I stocked the fridge for you," Sable tells her. "Only the finest beer that money can buy."
Cerise is pleased. That is until she swings the fridge door open and finds a 24-pack of Heineken waiting inside. "...Thanks," she says flatly, but tries not to betray the disappointment. Like Jesus on the cross, she forgives Sable for her transgressions on this front. The poor sinner knows not what she does.
"Please make sure to check the mail every day--"
"Of course."
"--and feed the turtle." Sable points at a terrarium in the corner. Cerise hadn't even noticed the little guy. He must be new.
"What's his name?" Cerise asks.
"Name?"
"Yeah."
"There's no reason to name something that cannot answer to it."
"Aw, Ms. Guiteau," Alex grumps. "This again?"
"Yes!" Sable says. Cerise realizes she's salting a fresh wound. She walks to the terrarium; Sable and Alex follow. When Cerise leans over to peer in from the top, the anonymous turtle makes a disgruntled "ehhhh" and snaps its jaw at her.
"It's good to name your pets," Alex says. "It shows you care."
"How about Grumpy?" Cerise suggests.
"Grumpy!" Sable barks. "Hey, Grumpy. Sit."
Grumpy does nothing.
"See? For what purpose would I ever name a creature that cannot be made to respond to commands? I may as well name my ficus, too."
"I already did!" Alex half-shouts, but regret shadows his face as soon as he does.
"You named my ficus."
"Frank," Alex says, unable to back down now.
"Frank the ficus."
"I'm the only one who waters it anyway," Alex says. "AND I picked it out for you. So really, it's more like it's mine. And I named it Frank. So there."
"Frank, come here," Sable says. Frank does nothing. "Uh huh," Sable murmurs flatly. "Some good a name does."
Alex sighs. He knows as well as anyone that sometimes you cannot win with Sable.
"Cerise," Sable says, "please also make sure you water Fr-- the ficus. Every day."
"Of course," Cerise says.
"I need to be going," Sable says, picking up her luggage again. "Security always takes me aside at random when I fly."
"That doesn't sound very random," Alex muses.
"It's what you get for living in a fucking van for the past five years," Cerise says. "You're on a lot of lists, I bet."
The two women hug. "I return in a week," Sable says. "See you then."
"Be safe!" Alex says. Despite their little spat over naming pets and plants, he's a bit crushed to see her leaving. "I'll call lots!" He hugs her tight. Is he saying goodbye to his girlfriend or his mom?
---
Sable wanted Cerise to spend the entire week in her apartment -- so paranoid. As if thieves will barge in the second the place is vacant. She frequently phones Cerise to check up on her:
"Is everything all right over there?"
"Yes, Sable. Just like it was five hours ago."
"Good."
"...Anything else?"
"Did you check the mail?"
"I checked the mail earlier. Remember? Mail only comes once a day."
"Did you water Fr-- the ficus?"
"Frank's been fed."
"Mm."
"So has Grumpy."
"Will you call me if anything happens?"
"I could. Or I could just wait a few minutes for you to call me."
"Don't mock me."
"I will. Uh. Call you, that is. Not mock you."
"Mm."
"But I'll mock you, too."
"Cerise!"
"See you soon, Sable."
"...Take care, Cerise."
(And so forth.)
But Cerise is happy to have the time away from home. Living in a 24/7 cathouse can grow a bit wearisome, even if it's fun. She and Alex take the opportunity to do a little spring cleaning and all. Mostly Alex. But Cerise does help a bit.
---
It's a dog-day Wednesday afternoon. Cerise is lounging in the now much-tidier living room. Alex has just gotten back from school, and today he volunteered to rearrange the cougar's lair that is Sable's closet. Since Cerise is catching up on her backlog this week, for once in her life, she lets Alex have at it. As Alex works and Cerise watches anime on the living room TV, she idly masturbates on Sable's couch. (She's certain Sable wouldn't mind. Sable is pretty lez for Cerise's pussy.)
Masturbating like this takes no special prep. For most of her time apartment-sitting, Cerise has gone more or less stark naked. Sometimes she throws on a tee -- like the one she wears right now. But tee or no, her pussy is always out and catching some fresh air. It's a way of life becoming increasingly normalized back at home, and she can't help hewing to her semi-nudist ways even while away. It makes her already outsized tendency towards onanism even more pronounced. She plays with herself whenever she gets the chance. And this week she's even hornier than usual, because she's been getting much less sex. Anna's been over a few times to play, sure. And Cerise usually makes Alex eat her out and toss her salad whenever he's over. But Cerise is sorely lacking some dick in her life. Alabaster was over only once, on Sunday, to drop off a plate of Mom's dessert. He bent Cerise over the couch and nailed her raw, then made her drizzle the cum out of her pussy and over her slice chocolate cake before eating it. That was a lot of fun. But it wasn't enough to keep Cerise's hot cunt satiated, not by a long shot.
To put it simply... Cerise is horny.
Horny as she is, though, Cerise has presence of mind to become concerned when she hears muffled groans from Sable's bedroom. It's definitely Alex's voice, and it sounds like he's in pain. Cerise stops diddling herself to go and investigate.
Poking her head in, she finds something unexpected but entirely unsurprising. Alex isn't hurt. No. He's being a complete creepo perv, that's all. He's on his knees in the middle of Sable's bedroom, naked, and he's huffing a balled-up pair of Sable's panties. His eyes are tightly shut -- he's lost to the world right now as he breathes deeply of his idolized teacher's musk.
Cerise uses Alex's panty-sniffing-induced distraction to sneak up on him. She's right behind him before he notices her presence.
"Ce-Cerise!" He squeaks, spinning around and falling backwards. He's partially propped up on one hand as Cerise stares reproachfully down at him, arms folded under her breasts.
"You fucking freak," Cerise spits. She knows just the words to turn him on.
"I... I wasn't--"
"Shut the fuck up." Cerise says. Alex shuts the fuck up. Cerise's eyes drift down and, to her delight, she sees something even she was never debauched enough to try on Alex: a chastity device latched around his cock. The little pink cage keeps him from getting hard, but it definitely doesn't stop him from leaking precum. A steady laminar stream of it runs down the length of the cage's hard plastic, across Alex's smooth nuts, and to the carpet below. He really worked himself up sniffing Sable's panties.
"You said you were cleaning up in here," Cerise says.
"I was..."
"Looks like you're making a real fucking mess."
Alex hangs his head.
"Give me those," Cerise says. She snatches the panties from Alex before he can hand them over. These are used, all right -- Cerise can see the outline of a wet spot on the crotch from where Sable wore them. She considers the garment for a moment. Sable is a pretty thin woman. Cerise is... not a size zero, let's say. She can clearly tell these panties wouldn't fit, or at least not comfortably.
She slips them on anyway.
Well, it takes some effort. The little blue-and-white striped piece of cotton tenaciously refuses to pull across Cerise's big thighs and even bigger ass. It takes some grunting and squeezing and tugging and pulling. It's a bit mortifying. Cerise sort of regrets even attempting it. But she can't give up, because she's trying to project an intimidating image to Alex, who's still cowering in her shadow. The effort pays off: when at last she manages to don the itty-bitty shimapan, it looks like the bottom of a micobikini on her. It barely covers the cleft of her pussy, and the seat is almost wholly swallowed up by her ass cheeks. She feels fat... but she's certain Alex is in sheer awe.
"Cerise..." Alex breathes. "What are you d--"
This is all Alex can get out before Cerise steps to him, grabs the back of his head, and forces his face into her crotch. Her hand plays through his fair hair, gripping it cruelly. She grunts: "Smell me. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Come on, freak. Smell me." She mashes Alex's cute little button nose into the crack of her pussy. She can feel his breaths through the thin cotton.
Cerise enjoys riding his face like this, for a little while. She humps him like a bitch on heat, and has a miniature orgasm in Sable's underwear. The more Cerise rides him, the fewer and farther between Alex's whines become, and the deeper he breathes her womanly scent. This really is what he wanted, exactly what he wanted. He balls up his fists and holds them at his chest while Cerise uses his face for a cumrag. But Cerise's pussy is fucking aching after four days of no dick. Even Alex's pitiful little thing, twitching and leaking while she uses him, is tantalizing. She licks her lips and stares at it.
"Here," she pants. She steps off Alex's face like a person dismounting a bicycle's saddle. She peels the underwear off and forces them into Alex's hands. "Put these on. Fucking do it."
Alex's face is ruddy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are vacant. He's coated in sweat, cunt juice and grime. He hardly seems to comprehend the order -- but he complies with it. He slips the juicy garment on, and it's a much better fit on his ass than it was on Cerise's. His caged cock makes such a cute bulge in the material.
Cerise lays both palms flat on Sable's bed and spreads her legs wide, so that both her holes open up. "Lick my fucking ass."
Like a dog, Alex slobbers all over Cerise's cutely puckered anus. He licks her inside and out without reserve. He licks her pussy, too -- can't help himself -- but he mostly focuses on rimming Cerise, as instructed.
For Cerise, it's ecstasy. Beyond ecstasy. Using Alex hard like this is always a quick ticket to a nice big cum. Feeling his little pink tongue swab around her insides is just the relief her needy holes have been crying out for. But goddamn it, it isn't quite enough. She's so frustrated by her mounting need that she lets out a low growl. She's too addicted to her brother's dick... too addicted to getting squirted full of cum... it's made her into such a slut. Turning, bracing herself against the bed the other way now, she begins to fuck her ass up and down on Alex's tongue like riding a dildo. She masturbates, with three or four fingers at a time ramming in and out of her pussy. She's squirting all over the place and practically screaming: "Fuck! FUCK! Deeper, you little bitch! Deeper!"
Alex is flopping around like a fish out of water, desperately in need of oxygen. But Cerise is selfish and merciless. She keeps bouncing on top of him. With a pained whine, Alex loses control of himself -- he begins to pee. At first a little squirt, then two. Soon he's completely unable to stop the steady flow: Alex wets himself inside Sable's panties. The volume of it can't stay contained, and seeps darkly from the cotton, down his thighs, onto the carpet.
"You disgusting little fucking pervert," Cerise snarls. "Wet little bitch..." She devolves into a series of almost incoherent insults and demeaning phrases as she cums herself stupid and gets off on her own wanton cruelty.
But when she steps off him again, breathing ragged, she still isn't satisfied. It's useless... utterly useless. She needs to climb on top of that pathetic cock of his.
Alex's head lolls from side to side against the bed. He seems to be seeing stars as he gulps down some much needed air. "Wow... Cerise... I... think I passed out for a second there..." He's got a big goofy grin on.
"I didn't cum."
"...What?" Alex weakly lifts his head and blinks. Little droplets of Cerise's pussy juice fling off his girlish eyelashes. "Do you... want me to lick you some more?"
Cerise uses her toe to nudge his dick through Sable's panties. "Where's the key to that thing?"
"I..." Alex stammers. "Ms. Guiteau has it."
Cerise frowns.
"She made me wear it," Alex says, voice timid.
"Sable is crazy, but she isn't insane," Cerise says. "She wouldn't have flown across the country with the only key to that thing. What if she got sick and couldn't come back on time? What if she lost it?"
Alex says nothing.
"Where is the fucking key, Alex?" Cerise says. "Don't make me beat you."
"It's... under Frank," he says.
"Frank the ficus?"
Alex nods. Cerise turns, and heads for the living room again. Alex, crawling on all fours like the dog Cerise has been treating him as, follows her. His caged dick waggles underneath him, useless -- for now. "Cerise! Wait! Ms. Guit-- Ms. Guiteau said I couldn't take it off unless it was an absolutely critical emergency!"
"Shut up." Cerise lifts the wicker holder in which Frank sits. Just as promised, inside the circular indent Frank's container has made in the carpet, lies a shiny brass key.
"Sit up," Cerise commands.
Alex meekly gets into an upright sitting position. He rests on the balls of his palms, his legs crossed Indian style. His lithe, sweaty chest is heaving. His entire body trembles. He makes little "ah-- ahh--" whines as Cerise gets on her knees in front of him and pulls the panties he's wearing to one side. His puny cock twitches, covered in wetness and obviously begging for release equally as much as Cerise's twat is. Cerise takes a moment to appreciate the beauty of this trap's penis -- locked-up, unusable and inert. This device is the perfect weapon to keep in her back pocket, figuratively and literally, whenever she wants to torment Alex's boypussy extra hard. She wants to see if he can cum while wearing it. She makes a mental note to thank Sable for this evil innovation in methods of sexually bullying the boy.
But for now... for now, Cerise really needs a cock inside her.
She unlocks the device, and pulls it off. Alex's flaccid dick isn't going to stay that way for long no matter what happens next -- but Cerise helps him along, anyway. She gently tugs on it, manipulating it between her fingers as she forces Alex back and begins to kiss him. Alex, utterly overwhelmed, still kisses her back. Cerise delights at the way Alex's prick gets so meaty as he grows increasingly aroused. When it's half-erect, it becomes heavy and spongy and almost dazzlingly hot to the touch. And as it rises to full mast, it becomes impressively thick, engorged and red and angry-looking. Alex's dick might be the most unfeminine thing about him, when he's hard. After so long caged up, he's extra hard now. Cerise can even feel the throbbing network of veins criss-crossing it. Her cunt muscles flutter in anticipation.
"Please..." Alex moans. "Ms. Guiteau said... she said I wasn't allowed to cum until she gets back..."
"Then don't cum," Cerise says as she she jerks him off.
"Cerissssse..." Alex groans, neck muscles going taut.
Cerise nips his earlobe. "Let's get back in bed," she whispers, right into Alex's eardrum, making him shudder.
Alex lies down in bed. His rock-hard cock bobs and bounces the whole way, poking proudly out of Sable's shimpan. He's not going to be able to make it go down without dropping a load. Cerise intends to make him do just that.
Just before joining him, Cerise is struck with another idea. She grabs one of Sable's labcoats from a hanger. Unlike Sable's underwear, these are one-size-fits-all. Although the coat describes Cerise's curves a little more explicitly than it does on Sable, the thing slides easily on. She likes the way it feels. It makes her feel... authoritative. And it goes so well with her baggy black tee, her choker, and her naked pussy.
Alex is agog. His eyes intently follow Cerise's sauntering approach, and although his tiny jaw moves like a rabbit's chewing a leaf, no sound comes out.
Cerise climbs onto the bed, and over Alex's supine form. Her heavy tits are visible through the sagging collar of her shirt. Alex can't help staring.
"Are you looking at my tits?" Cerise demands.
"I..."
Cerise tugs the bottom of her shirt up, to reveal them in all their glory. They're slick with sweat, bulbous, and her dark pink nipples are hard.
"Do you like these?" Cerise says.
Alex nods.
"Of course you do. You'll keep this secret from Sable, right? You'll be my good little boy today?"
"But... I'm not supposed to--"
"I told you already," Cerise says. "If she ordered you not to cum... just don't cum. There's no problem."
Cerise reaches down between their bodies and takes that wonderfully hard dick in hand.
"W-wait," Alex stammers. Only now does he actually comprehend what's about to happen. "Y-you can't--!"
Too late. Cerise lines Alex's dribbling prickhead up with the dribbling entrance of her pussy. And then she slides right down onto it. It's a single, swift motion, that swallows Alex's entire cock into her, all the way to the balls. She does it so quickly and with such force that it makes an audible plap -- the noise of Cerise's thighs colliding with Alex's.
Cerise, cunt full, momentarily loses her sense of time and space. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull so that Alex sees only the whites, and her jaw hangs open like she's a total idiot. She inhales a giant, gasping, fluttering breath, as the heat of Alex's cock spreads from her crotch throughout her entire body. Alex is no better off: he's never been inside Cerise before, and the velvety interior of Cerise's hole is almost mind-numbingly pleasurable. He nearly loses his nut, right there, before the panic grips him and he holds himself back by sheer force of will.
"Ffffuck," Cerise sighs. She kneads her tits. "Ffffuck. Ffffuckkhh..." A little droplet of spittle flies off her bottom lip.
Alex shakes his head. "Cerise... we shouldn-- we-- Ms. Guit-- Ally--"
Cerise ignores him. She sits fully upright on top of him. She takes his hands, first one and then the other, directing them up and under her shirt. Despite himself, he feels her up -- starts to squeeze and toy with her breasts. He knows it's what she wants. Cerise rewards his obedience by clamping down on his cock, hugging it with the walls of her leaky pussy. And from the outside, she also hugs his slight waist with her soft plump thighs -- as if trying to draw him even deeper.
"P-please..." Alex whines.
"Oh, be quiet," Cerise says. "You're gonna get fucked. Get over it."
She hunches forward, and begins to bounce up and down.
She takes it slow at first, really savoring the full length of Alex's cock plunging in and out of her body. She was always curious what it would feel like. It has more give than Alabaster's, it's easier to squeeze down on and wring the precum out of. And of course, this cock's owner is more compliant... which is great when she's in an aggressive mood like she is today. Alex is such a small boy, and Cerise feels like she's conquering his body completely while she rides him. Because she is. She's conquering him and making him into a living sex toy for her personal amusement.
Not that Alex doesn't take liberties. Having given up on stopping her, he molests her tits with abandon -- and begins to run his hands all over her curvy body at will.
"Pervert," Cerise says. "Touch me more..."
The pace of Cerise's fuck begins to pick up steam. The steady plap-thwack, plap-thwack of her in-and-out gyrations, has a quality to it that completely hypnotizes the overstimulated Alex. Cerise braces herself against his chest, bearing down with all her weight, fucking him harder and faster with every passing moment. His cock is stirring her pussy into a froth, and she's having a series of rolling orgasms on him. She's squirting. On his dick, on the bedsheets, even on Sable's labcoat. The fluttering of the coat's thick fabric while she humps is just another noise in the chorus of slapping flesh and feminine moaning.
Cerise's voice is husky and silken: "you're such a messy boy, Alex... you're so fucking messy today... you're making a mess in me, you know?" And he is. He's leaking a steady, continuous stream of slimy pre-fuck right into Cerise's deepest parts.
Alex is beet red with embarrassment. He feels awful about his mess. His jaw is hanging open. He's desperately trying not to cum. For so many reasons, he knows it would be such an awful thing to do. But he can't help himself, and Cerise's cruel goading is only bringing him closer to that point of no return.
"You're really throbbing now..." Cerise breathes. "Are you gonna cum, Alex?"
"N-no..."
"You're gonna fucking cum. I can feel it... your cute little cock's gonna blow its load, isn't it?"
"No!"
"You wanna cum inside me? You wanna cum raw inside me?"
Alex, unable to meet Cerise's evil gaze, covers his trembling face with both hands. Plap-thwack, plap-thwack...
"Fuck, Alex... I'm gonna cum, too..." Plap-thwack, plap-thwack...
Cerise forces Alex's hands away from his face so that she can mash her tits against it. She makes him suck on her nipples, first one and then the other -- makes him nurse on her.
This is what finally sets him off. Alex, his mouth full of Cerise's tit, moans out: "W-wait-- mmmff--!!"
But the delirious joy of orgasm demolishes all of his higher reasoning. His "mmmf" becomes a rapid huffing, puffing, open-mouth panting, as he loses his load. Cerise settles fully atop him, his cockhead kissing her womb, to take it as deep as possible. She even wiggles around a bit to make sure his cum spreads all around as he blasts rope after rope into her.
Halfway through his orgasm, his eyes go wide and he shouts: "I-- I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He apologizes over and over in between deep, shuddering breaths. But he cannot possibly stop himself from emptying the entire contents of his balls straight into Cerise's baby room. Cerise, screaming like a banshee, climaxes so hard that her twat becomes a vice, cruelly rippling and wringing Alex utterly dry.
She starts to bounce on him again, enjoying his prick to the fullest possible extent, mixing his cum all up inside her. As she rises to a cowgirl position again, Alex is still repeating: "Sorry! Sorry!" as he covers his face back up with his hands.
It's one of the best orgasms either of them has ever had. As the sloppy throbbing of their genitals subsides and Cerise's plapping slows to a halt, the only noise left in the room is Alex's repeated "sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..."
Cerise tugs the panties off Alex again. This poor pair of underwear has been through a lot already... it's about to go through more. Once again, Cerise forces the too-small garment onto her, trapping Alex's load inside her and making a gooey mess of crotch. Alex, peeking through the cracks of his fingers, glimpses Cerise waddling towards him on her knees. She squats, and sits on his face.
"Well?" Cerise says, staring down at him. "You made a mess. Clean it up."
---
Cerise is the big spoon as they drift in and out of sleep.
Late into the night, Cerise wakes up to find Alex crying. He's trying to conceal it, making no noise -- but his body is wracked by the sobs nonetheless. Cerise strokes his hair from out of his face and hugs him tighter. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry..." he mutters.
"Alex... you do know I'm okay with what happened, right? I wasn--"
"No -- I know that. I mean I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's fine. What's the matter?"
She forces him to turn around and face her. He sniffles. "I love you," he finally says.
"I love you too," Cerise says, and kisses him.
"But... I love Ms. Guiteau."
"So?" Cerise says. "We can all love each other."
"That's not it, either. Of course we can. But what I'm saying is -- Ms. Guiteau got the job. She texted me earlier. She's gonna move to New York. And if I go there with her... I can't be with you and Ally and everyone else... but if I stay..."
"Shh," Cerise coos. She holds his face to her bosom. "It'll work out."
---
Unfortunately, Vivian isn't the person who answers Vivian's cell phone:
"Whozzat?"
Cerise sighs. She's standing at the sliding-glass door to Sable's little second-story patio, gazing out at the parking lot as she holds the phone to her ear, the bright street lights casting her pale skin in weird relief. "Is Vivian around?"
"This is her secretary," Whitney says. "How may I direct your call?"
"I wanna talk to Vivian. Where is she?"
"Right now?"
"No, I want to know where she'll be in 2240."
"In the ground, I guess."
Cerise massages the bridge of her nose, praying for strength. "And where is she right now?"
"Heeh. Well, right now, at the current most present moment, my little sister is sucking my boyfriend's cock. So she can't talk."
"Fucking stupendous," Cerise says. "Well, put Alabaster on, then."
Whitney giggles. "Sure thing, toots. Please hold."
There's a slight rustle, and then Alabaster's voice: "What's up?"
"Sable got that job. Or so I hear."
"Good for her," Alabaster says. Distantly, Cerise hears gagging from the other end of the line. "Yeah," Alabaster grunts. "Like that... oooh."
"Well, if she takes the job," Cerise says, "that means she's gonna move to New York. Alex, too."
"You know my motto," Alabaster says. "It'll all work out. ... Oh fuck, Viv... fucking swallow it, yeah... little cunt..."
"Yeah, yeah," Cerise says. "Everything's fucking magic in--" Cerise glances over her shoulder, to make sure Alex isn't eavesdropping. She turns back towards the patio window. "Everything is fucking hunky-dory in four-two-two. I get it. But how about you take some action on this one?"
"What are you thinking?" Alabaster asks.
"You're buddy-buddy with Darkbloom, right?" Cerise says. "And you said yourself that he wants her at his company."
"That is NOT a good id--" Alabaster begins.
"What happened to 'it all works out'?" Cerise says. "Huh?"
Alabaster sighs. "Could we have this conversation after I cum? Please?"
"Do this for me, Alabaster. You're already planning to join the company too -- to keep the guy out of trouble yourself... and I don't wanna lose Alex and Sable."
"Fuck," Alabaster sighs. There's more rustling from the other end. Vivian's voice rings out, in the background, clearly upset: "What is the meaning of this? Unhand me... let me finish sucking you off, Alabaster-- you demented pervert--"
"Sable got that job in New York," Alabaster says.
"Good for her," Vivian replies.
"That's what I said. But Cerise isn't too happy."
"What do you expect me to do about this?" Vivian demands.
"Simple," Alabaster says. "If you promise that you'll tell your dad to call Sable up tonight, and hire her for whatever salary she wants... I'll cum down your throat."
There's a long pause.
"This is ridiculous," Vivian says. "I demand that you ejaculate inside m--"
Alabaster's voice is booming and no-nonsense. "I will cum in Whitney and let her swallow it all, Viv, I swear to god. Tell your dad to hire Sable. Tonight."
Whitney's laughter is riotous as Vivian considers this. "Don't take too long to think!" Whitney shouts. "You know I'm always hungry for Ally's sperm!"
Cerise doesn't hear whatever Vivian says, but she does hear the wet squelching of Alabaster fucking her throat. "Ungh, fuck... there we go..." Cerise marvels at how Alabaster can so shamelessly treat such a little hole like it's a plastic pocket pussy.
"Did she say yes?" Cerise asks after a moment.
"What do you fucking think?" Alabaster snarls.
Cerise touches her cummy pussy as she listens to Alabaster's loud, masculine orgasm. She can vividly picture him seeding young Vivian Darkbloom's gullet. She smiles to herself, and hangs up.
But almost as soon as she disconnects, her phone lights up with a series of angry texts.
>From: Renee C.
>WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS VOD ON YOUR TWITCH, CERISE?
>WHY IS THAT HOOKER ON YOUR SHOW?
>WHY DID YOU LET HER GUEST HOST YOUR SHOW BEFORE ME?
>ARE YOU AT HER HOUSE RIGHT NOW?
>I'M ON MY WAY. GET YOUR STUPID FUCKING STREAM READY FOR ME.
Cerise giggles. It's gonna be another fun night. She heads for Sable's room, to wake Alex up again.