A Cosplayer's Luck

Kyra tossed the item back my way, fanning herself with one hand. "Funny how such a little detail makes such a big impression, am I right?"

The impromptu cosplay discussion continued for another hour, which then turned into a gabfest about the latest anime streaming out of Japan. Hey, it's an anime con -- what did you expect? I was surprised to notice after a bit that Michael was barely participating, so I tried to pull him in a bit. "So what about you, Michael? Any hot 'waifus' to be found to your tastes this season?"

Before he could respond, Kyra jumped in. "Oh, don't mind him, he's a Fake Geek Boy."

"...A what?"

Darlene elbowed Kyra in the ribs, but Kyra plowed on. "He doesn't really like anime all that much, he's just here to hang out and pick up chicks, score some one-night stands." Darlene elbowed her again, this time a lot harder. "OW! What was that all about?"

Oh.

I suddenly felt really, really tired. "I'm... feeling kind of grimy. Long flight from New York, y'know? I'm gonna take a shower, if that's okay?" When no one said anything, I pulled a towel and my bathroom kit out of my bags, and made myself scarce.

As I stripped off my clothing, I took stock in the bathroom mirror. Five foot eight white girl. Seventy-eight pounds lighter now than this time last year, but still plenty of meat on the bone and some very nice curves. No more teen acne, and a pretty face that had graduated to "lovely" once I'd ditched the double chin. Thick brown hair down past my shoulder blades, that was now "luxurious" instead of "mousy." Green eyes with a nice sparkle to them. Hourglass hips and a flat stomach that I fucking well *earned*. A carefully trimmed bush, perfectly shaved legs, and my one natural talent, a pair of large and lush tits that a literal pornstar once told me she would've given a million dollars for, with little pink nipples that were wonderfully sensitive.

I was gorgeous. I was everything I'd ever dreamed of, all the more precious for having personally fought for it and won. I was... what did Darlene call me? "A smoldering-hot cosplay goddess," I whispered aloud, pinching one of my nipples, and giving myself a flickering touch between my legs.

So now one question remained. Did I want to be a notch on some pickup artist's bed post? Just how badly did I need to end this dry spell of mine? Okay, that's two questions.

Actually, make it three questions — which version of Michael did I believe in? Kyra's hungry fuckboi who could care less about the passion and care that people put into their hobbies here? Or Darlene's shy oblivious wallflower, who legitimately had no idea about the effect he had on women just by breathing?

I'd only known him for a couple of hours by this point, and he'd been pretty quiet for most of that. Was that the tactic of an aloof predator setting a snare, or was he just a quiet guy who felt a little overwhelmed by all the free-floating estrogen in the room?

"Screw it!" I scowled at my reflection. "Shower first, strategize later. Sleep on it. Relax. CHILL." I hefted my breasts, just to see that awesome jiggle in the mirror again, and stepped under the hot spray.

A little bit later, I had finished scrubbing off my bodywash, and had just managed to rinse the last bit of shampoo out of my hair when there was a tentative knock at the bathroom door. I peeked around the curtain, and saw the door crack open half an inch. "Shit. Karen, I'm really sorry - can I hide in here?" It was him.

Hide? What the fuck? "Hide from what?"

"The newlyweds are making out again, and I don't think they're going to stop for a bit. They've forgotten we're here, but the room keys are on the other side of their bed, so I can't leave. I can't stay in there, and sitting out here in the entryway isn't much better. At least the bathroom is kinda soundproofed."

At that moment, Kyra's voice echoed through the opened door. "Darlene, fuck, lick it right there, right there, mmmm...."

Michael's whispered voice was strained. "I'm really sorry, Karen — but I really don't want to listen to my cousin and her wife going at it. If you let me hide in here, I'll close my eyes, wear a blindfold, whatever you want. Please."

"DARLEEEEEEEEENE!!!!" Oh god.

My resolve broke. "Okay. Get in here, and close the door." I ducked back behind the curtain, and I heard Michael dash inside and shut the door firmly behind him, cutting off the start of another Kyra moan. A moment later, I heard the top lid of the toilet get lowered, and the sound of him sitting down. "Not exactly an easy chair," I quipped, "but at least we've both got somewhere to sit while we wait." I turned off the shower, and sat down in the tub.

We both sat in silence for a couple minutes.

I spoke up first. "Just for the record, if you touch this shower curtain without an express invitation, you're pulling back a bloody stump." Yeah. So fierce.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Karen. I'd like to think I'm not that much of an asshole."

Another long silence.

"So... why *are* you here, then? I mean, at the con, not in here with me right now. If you don't like anime." Translation: are you just trying to get into my pants, or not?

"Kyra's full of shit. I love her like a sister, but she's so full of shit." I heard a warm chuckle. "I do like anime. I like anime a great deal. I just don't like the same anime she likes, so I'm not a 'real fan' in her eyes."

"Hence the 'fake geek boy' thing."

"Yyyyyup. Darlene calls her on it, but it's an old ingrained habit for her at this point."

I swirled my toes in the puddles at the bottom of the tub. "So, what kind of anime DO you like?"

"Old school mecha shows. If it's newer than the early 90's, it doesn't do anything for me."

There was an interesting note in his voice there. Let's keep this going... "Something about the old art styles? All hand-drawn, no computers?"

"A little... but the main thing is the STORY." I pulled back the curtain just enough to see him leaning forward as he sat, a real light in his eyes as he talked about something that was important to him. His voice rumbled with passion, and I found myself getting damp just listening to him talk. "Back then, there was no pretense, no desperate claim at higher art. They wanted to sell toys to kids, and they wanted to tell fun stories while doing so. And that's the thing — they were FUN. They didn't worry about trope deconstruction, or reconstruction, or capturing some fleeting zeitgeist. They told their stories, and told them well."

I sat back again. "You've really thought that through."

"It's important to be able to speak what's on your mind. Learned that the hard way."

Let's digest that one for a moment, shall we? "...that's a good way to live." I took a deep breath. "So. If I speak my mind right now, is that okay?"

"It's always okay."

"I wonder." I flicked a drop of water off my breasts. "Kyra made you sound like some kind of bedpost notch collector."

A quiet sigh of exasperation. "See above, the 'I love Kyra, but she's full of shit' proclamation."

"So you're here at Anime Horde to...?" I bit my lip.

"To hang out with Darlene and Kyra a bit, and when they're off doing their thing, I search the halls in vain hope of finding some old mecha stuff in the dealer's room, or panels on old giant robots, or even just a few other fellow fans of the old stuff." He sounded a little sad now.

"Any luck?"

"Not even a little." He shifted his weight on the seat again. "Well, that's not true. I made a new friend tonight, that's worth something, a nice bit of luck there." He laughed. "I don't suppose you also happen to like Giant Robot shows that ended before you were born? That would be a nice bit of double-luck."

"I don't know, I've never seen one." I pitched my voice a little lower, remembering how Darlene had gone from "sweet cherub" to "sultry makeout lady" back in the lobby by doing that little vocal trick. "Maybe you could show me some. I'd really like that." Did I mean that? Or was I just trying to sound sexy and inviting?

...I think I meant it. I actually wanted to see some of this old stuff. And I especially wanted to see his face light up when he watched it. I wanted to see him get passionate about something he adored. I knew the look on his face would be unforgettable.

"I can do that, Karen. I'd love to. My tablet's loaded with old episodes. Maybe when we're resting our feet after walking around tomorrow, I'll show you some."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Oh my god, did I just say that?

"...What?"

I gave him a low, throaty giggle. "I'll show you some of my favorite anime, in return for you showing me your favorite anime. What did you think I meant?" Holy shit. I actually said all that with a straight face. I may as well have held up a sign outside the curtain that read 'READY TO BE FUCKED DEEP AND HARD NOW', for all the subtlety I just exhibited. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I heard him stand up. "Maybe... maybe we'll find that out together sometime." He took two steps, putting him right in front of the tub. He paused there for a long moment, not making another sound.

I drew up my thighs and let one hand drift down between them. If he opened the curtain right now, he'd see me in all my glistening wet and naked glory, fingering myself right in front of him. And maybe he'd reach down to touch me, or unzip his pants, or...

A moment later, he took a deep breath, and took two more steps, away from the tub and towards the bathroom door. I want to believe that I heard him mutter "bloody stump" under his breath, but maybe that was just my imagination.

"Let's... see if they're done." The door creaked open, but not a sound was heard after that. No rampaging oblivious lust-screams out there, not anymore. "Be right back," he whispered.

A moment later, he returned. "They are *out cold*. I'm going to set up some cushions on the floor for me to sleep on, and then get my pajamas. I'll let you know when I'm decent."

"Wait a second! Michael, hold on! What you mean, sleeping on the floor?"

"There's no cots left in the hotel, I checked earlier. And there's only two beds. Kyra and Darlene have one, you'll take the other."

I poked my head out from behind the curtain. "Not happening. I'm the one intruding, I should take the floor."

He frowned. "Karen, you're our guest. It's okay."

"Look, Michael. I trust you, okay? We're both grown adults..."

"We're college students."

"Close enough!" I felt my cheeks flush. "I trust you not to do anything... uninvited... if we both slept in the bed."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. We can be adults about this, I agree. Go ahead and get dressed, I'll be in my own PJ's by the time you're out."

Remember how waaaaay back in this story I was trying to remind myself of something important, and failing? Well, this is when I finally remembered that urgent detail. "Wait!" He paused at my voice and turned back to me. "I just realized. I don't... I don't have pajamas." My face was beet red. "I usually just sleep naked... and I thought I was going to have a room to myself. I didn't pack anything like that. Sorry."

Michael looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Work the problem, work the problem... aha!" He reached for the door again. "Stay right there, I have a fix for this."

A minute later, he returned, holding a huge t-shirt, with an off-center THE VENTURE BROS. logo on it. "I got this a couple months ago, at a t-shirt shop's reject bin. It's an Extra Tall, so it should reach down past your thighs. You can use it as a nightgown."

A few minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom, finally dry and wearing the borrowed shirt. It really only went a little ways past my butt, so bending down in it was not my best option — especially since I wasn't wearing a damn thing underneath.

Look, I'll cop to it — I went nude under that shirt for a cheap thrill. I wanted to feel just a little naughty, a little naked in close proximity to him. I wasn't planning on taking the shirt off in front of him, so as long as I was careful, he wouldn't know about my little bare-ass secret.

And then he had to go and get me revved up again, just by existing. While I was dithering in the bathroom, he had changed into a light pair of sleep pants, about as thin as a cheap pillowcase. And he wasn't wearing a shirt. I had to look away, because otherwise I really would've dropped to my knees in front of him. "Michael? Thanks for everything tonight. You all really did save me." I climbed into bed, tugging down on the shirt hem to keep it from riding up.

"My pleasure, Karen. Really." As he moved in under the covers, I took in a deep breath — and he smelled amazing. He was sweet and spicy at the same time, with notes of vanilla in there, and I barely managed to win yet another struggle with my overactive libido, who wanted more than anything in that moment to lick her way across his subtly defined abs. He reached out to squeeze my hand. "My pleasure," he said once more with a yawn, and that was when sleep finally caught up to me.

***

I dreamed.

Mindy was hovering ten feet over me as I lay in a giant round bed. She had a harp in one hand, and a pitchfork in the other, her head bearing both horns and halo, and a chaotic mix of batwings and feathered wings on her back. Her voice was distorted. "So, what'cha gonna do with your present?" As I looked up into Mindy's burning eyes, I got on my hands and knees, and lifted my ass into the air. Moments later, the lips of my wetness were shoved open by something firm, something perfectly warm, and I felt Michael's hands grab hold of my hips as he shoved forward. Hard. I screamed in joy.

***

My eyes drifted open. I was lying on my side, looking out over Michael's bare chest. The opposite bed was empty, and past that, a faint hint of dawn sunlight peeked between the curtains. The room was silent, save for the sound of Michael's breathing. No shower running. I snuggled in closer, enjoying the warmth of his chest against my cheek.

Wait a second.

Now my eyes snapped open. Michael was on his back, and I was nestled in the crook of his right arm, one arm and leg thrown over him. And... I was naked.

No, not entirely naked. I could feel the shirt bunched up high under my armpits, leaving my absolute everything hanging out. My bare breasts were rubbing into Michael's side. My crotch, already damp from that crazy dream, was rubbing against his pajama-clad thigh. And I couldn't decide if I should cheer or run screaming. So I did neither. I froze.

For another minute, I listened to the sound of Michael breathing. He was still asleep, one arm stretched out around me, but not squeezing. I must've burrowed into his arms in my dreams.

I honestly don't know how to explain why I did this next part.

I shifted my face as it rested against Michael's chest, and I realized my mouth was now at level with one of his nipples. I kissed it.

No reaction. Was that a good thing, or not?

He'd tasted... nice. Even his sweat had a clean and fresh feel to it. I kissed the nipple again, my tongue tickling it for a brief moment. This time he stirred, just a little.

I opened wide, and latched my mouth over his chest, licking all over and around that little brown nub. I felt his nipple harden in my mouth, and he mumbled a vague "good morning" before his awareness fully kicked in moments later.

I looked up. He looked down. Our gazes met, and for what was probably only two seconds, but felt like two hours, the world was completely quiet and still.

Maybe you've read romance stories here and there, where they talk about how you'll just be looking into someone's eyes, and then all of a sudden, the two of you move right into each other at the same time for a kiss, as if you both felt some magnetic pull.

That is real. It can really happen just like that. And it happened right then. The next thing I knew, I had lifted up onto my elbow, leaning into him as we tried to inhale each other's tongues, and I'm deliberately grinding my naked breasts into his body.

The covers were thrown aside, his hand latched onto the naked cheek of my ass, and there was no going back. I had to have him, and the feeling was clearly mutual. As if we'd rehearsed this, we each frantically stripped off what little clothing we had left, and we both rolled over, so that I'm on my back and he was kneeling between my legs. He reached for one of my breasts, palming it in a warm and gentle grip, while my hand was immediately headed south, grabbing hold of whatever I might find there.

And I found a very interesting surprise.

Michael's equipment wasn't especially long; in that regard, it seemed about average to me. But oh my freaking lord, he was THICK. It felt as wide as a coffee mug, but I didn't want to bother with inspecting it for details and exact measurements -- I just needed that cock inside me. He was already rock-hard, my inner thighs were glistening with my gushing wetness, and neither of us were in the mood for foreplay.

Dear god, that first penetration. I'd never had anything that wide before, toy or flesh, and there was that brief moment of fear before he slid right in like a sword into its scabbard. "I LOVE IT!" My voice was almost a scream, my body feeding me a rush of pleasure to cover what should have been pain. I shuddered to think what would've happened if I hadn't been so ridiculously wet, and then simply shuddered in raw sensation as Michael churned his hips back and forth, feeding me every thick inch, over and over again.

There was a brief flash of worry on his face as well in those first seconds, a fear that he might have hurt me in his rush to get deep into me. But once he slipped inside, that changed - a gasp escaped his lips, and his eyes took on a bright, hungry light. Still holding my breast, his other hand reached up to cradle behind my neck, and he leaned into each hard thrust.

Desperate to have as much of that amazing cock inside me as possible, I pulled my thighs up as high as I could, and then grabbed the undersides of my knees to pull my legs back even further. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel him buried to the hilt inside my convulsing pussy, and he fulfilled that hope instantly. I couldn't stop mewling and moaning, gasping and begging, staring into his eyes the entire time. "More, please God, harder, harder!"

He answered my cries by shifting his angle just a tiny bit, and I felt my eyes cross in shock and ecstasy as top side that wide load made a delicious grind against the tip of my clit. Time slowed down, and tears fell from my eyes.

It's rare for a woman to orgasm just from having a cock inside her. Having a thick rod fucking you is so damn great, but it's usually not going to bring you to the finish line by itself. That's why you hear people say, "it's not about size, it's how you use it." Or "it's the motion of the ocean". And that's true, because that magical wonder button just above, Our Lady of Perpetual Ecstasy, the Clitoris itself, is where the fun really is. Guys, please remember that. We are not jackhammer testing ranges, we are delicate flowers that are hungry for a skilled and loving fuck, and making sure The Lady Above has fun is guaranteed to pay out great dividends for everyone.

Michael knew what the hell he was doing. He was watching my face expectantly as he ground in again, and I got to see that expression change when my tightness turned up the power around him through sheer orgasmic force. My mouth was open in a silent scream, my nipples were so rigid that they felt like they were ready to fire off into the ceiling, and everything below my waist clenched down hard. I saw fear in his eyes again, as if the thought "what if she rips it off" flashed through his imagination, followed by a joyous smile of pure bliss as my soft walls pulsed and throbbed around him all throughout my climax.