Person-al Penile Protection

Then she stamps her foot, and resumes her pacing.

"See what I mean??? They're all SLUTS. I love them - I do! - but you CAN'T risk actually...having SEX with them! Or especially anyone else who goes to these things. You can't!"

"So I won't? Again, we can just stay here."

Maggy groans, apparently frustrated that her ramblings aren't having her desired effect on you.

"But that's not fair to you! I know it's not! I know you want to go! And so do I! It's just..."

She stops, slumping against a wall, evidently unable to form her thoughts into the proper words. But, for the life of you, you can't seem to figure out why's she's making such a big deal out of this. Her solution seems fairly obvious - assuming, at least, you've managed to translate 'girlfriend' to actual English.

So obvious, in fact, that it's on your dresser right now. Entirely within arm's reach.

Which gives you a rather fun idea. Payback time.

*Tink*

The condom makes a slight, humorous tone as it sails from your hand and bounces against her head. Maggy's shoulders jerk reflexively on its impact, her eyes jerking downwards in turn, tracing its path to the ground. She stares at it for a second - but then turns her surprised, accusatory gaze back onto you. But you only shrug, haplessly pointing back to the plastic-wrapped rectangle. Adding a snarky comment, to emphasize your point. Turnabout's fair play, you figure; you're just returning fire.

"They make those for a reason, you know. Don't you worry; I'll be protected."

But Mags just stares at you, too stunned at your audacity to respond.

"Really", she finally retorts, squatting down to grab the condom. "Protected."

Then she flashes a grin of her own at you - though hers seems a good bit more mean-spirited than yours had been. It's a bit disconcerting, really; she's clearly none too pleased with you making light of her concerns, easily solved though they appear to be. So you again bite your tongue, and simply watch, cautiously amused, as she dramatically raises the plastic before her. And as she suddenly tears at it with both hands, attempting to break open its seal.

Though, even more amusingly, she fails at this, her tugging soon turning more desperate, then giving way entirely to a far less dramatic display of grunting, pulling teeth. Eventually, however, she does succeed at opening the thing, and promptly presents the furled tube within it before herself.

"Your protection", she states, matter-of-factly. She raises it to her face and blows into it before you can reply, quickly unfurling it to its full length. A bit of a waste, in your opinion - but you keep that opinion to yourself. She next jams a few fingers into it, doing her best imitation of...well, of a penis, obviously.

"Your reason", she finishes, moving her other hand to grasp the fingers in question, enshrouding most of the condom inside of her fist. Then her face sharpens, her amber eyes narrowing in concentration. Her arms tremble slightly, and her body starts to quiver with apparent effort. You almost yell out, surprised; you recognize the reaction, and the fact that you can't immediately determine what it is she's doing worries you somewhat. But, shortly, her trembling ends - and your girlfriend's face softens again, a look of smug satisfaction painting it instead. Then she withdraws her hand, tiny reflections of your ceiling lamp glimmering off of the half-dozen small, metallic barbs now adorning its underside.

That'd be what she'd changed, then. Yeesh.

Bits of the condom's rubber body peel away along with her fingers, clinging to the barbs, a number of gaping, worrisome tears now adorning its length. It hangs pathetically from her fingers, having been torn almost entirely in half; your eyes widen slightly, impressed despite yourself. This is an unexpectedly interesting direction, you'll admit. Might as well see where she's going with it.

"Imagine that", Maggy clarifies for you, "except your cock's in there". She flicks her fingers, trying to remove the shredded, useless remnants of the condom from them. "And the hand's not a hand."

Yeah. You'd gotten that much. Ow.

Then she grimaces. "Wanna guess who I learned that from? I'll give you a hint; it wasn't just ONE girl."

...Well. All right then. Women: evidently scarier than you'd figured. Noted.

"But", you finally retort, sitting up, "It's not like women are the only ones that can do that."

You chuckle a bit at your own response, humored by the way she's managing to sucker you into her personal neurosis. It's now gotten a little more convincing now, you'll give her that.

"And it's not like they're the only ones who can carry diseases, or whatever. And I sure as shit don't think anyone, male or female, is going to TRY and get anyone knocked up at something like-"

"But you can SEE what's going on with a cock, you know?? You can TELL if they've got something," Maggy interrupts, again approaching you. She kneels down on the carpet, and lays her chin on your knee. Then, suddenly, a hand joins it, coming to rest upon on your crotch once more, beginning to rub it obscenely. You almost flinch away, afraid she'd been neglectful - but you don't feel any poky bits penetrating your jeans, so you figure it's ok. She must have already changed them back.

"Cocks are great like that, yeah? But vags are just..."

She grumbles childishly, trailing off, her chin spiking into your thigh with every word.

"And, either way, you do NOT know these women like I do. There's a ton of 'em that totally WOULD just try to...try to steal someone's guy away. For no real reason, even! They're just...SLUTS. They practically BRAG about it, when it's just us together."

And with that, she buries her face even deeper into your leg - and grasps your crotch even tighter. As if she's trying to establish some kind of bizarre ownership over it.

"'N a'm NNT ok wth thht", she mumbles into your jeans.

"Well", you slowly respond, placing a hand on the back of her head, mockingly stroking her hair. This, she's definitely exaggerating. "What are you gonna do about that, then, little miss?"

You think about it yourself, for a moment. There's a couple solutions you can think of for her, if she really does want to insist on you both still heading out, but you're not a huge fan of any of them. Your likelihood of actually scoring in the traditional sense'll obviously be nil, not matter which direction you take; that seems to be her main hangup, after all. And, worst case, you might even catch a bit of male attention - and, while you don't judge others, you yourself are not at ALL a fan of that particular angle. You'd much rather just stay put here, if going means catching a load or two for yourself.

But, biting back your own distaste, you offer up one of those solutions anyway. At the very least, you can make it one of the less...offensive ones.

"I guess you COULD just wear me over there, if this is really bothering you that much. I wouldn't necessarily mind if you wanted to ask me to be your...your top, or something."

"Thnss, mnn."

The burst of your girlfriend's warm breath on your thigh feels rather good, but you're still not happy to hear her response. All you can really do is sigh, though. That, and accept your fate. Honestly, you can't help but feel rather disappointed at this turn of events. You'd been hoping to make some new acquaintances, have a bit of fun. Maybe even hook up with that group of catgirls you'd seen earlier; they'd seemed like likely attendees.

But none of that was very likely if you were gonna spend the night covering your girlfriend's boobs.

"...Well, let's do it, then", you begrudgingly, grumpily mumble, tousling Maggy's soap-smelling hair one last time before gently nudging her to stand up. You certainly aren't looking forwards to this - doing this kinda thing in public isn't really your kink at all - but...well, sometimes sacrifices have to be made.

Though you do allow yourself one last comment. You'd have the final word, at least.

"You'd think they'd be making some kind of thot-proof condoms if it's that big an issue, though."

You make sure to include a bit of her own passionate vernacular in there, to really drive the point home. Your only reward, however, is an annoyed fist getting driven into your thigh, dangerously close to your junk. Clearly there's a bit of hypocrisy going on when it comes to WHO gets to damage the goods.

Maggy finally removes her face from your thigh, pouting again - but this time, she's displaying a much more jovial expression than before. That's nice, at least. Good that someone'd be happy tonight.

"Dummy. You know that's not gonna...gonna..."

But then she pauses, blinking. Her words stopping mid-sentence, her mouth left hanging open as she's suddenly struck dumb. You raise an eyebrow, but you're not exactly in any hurry to rush her through whatever thought's stolen her voice. Now, you're more than happy to let her take her time.

At least until you notice the thin bead of drool forming on the corner of her lip and start bouncing your knee to dislodge her. You aren't interested in being victimized any more than you're already slated for.

"No...n...no, wait," she stammers out, the motion apparently accelerating her thought process. "Hold up." But that doesn't stop you, of course. It just makes you wiggle your leg a little bit harder.

"Stop it, you jerk! I just...you don't...you don't have to...ha...haha..."

You do slow the shaking down to a light jiggle as she starts to laugh, though. A genuine, almost giddy-sounding laugh, too. A real return to form for her. That was more what you were expecting from her tonight. Just a shame she hadn't gotten into that mood a bit earlier.

"No, like, for real, stop! I just thought of something, and I...I think you're gonna like it."

Oh. Oh shit.

That does actually make you stop bouncing her around. Not her words, obviously; you're not that gullible. It's more...the way she says them. There's a mischievous assertiveness she'd added to her voice near the end of that that makes you take instant note. It's a very particular voice of hers - and it's not one you get to hear often. But you've quickly found yourself developing a sort of Pavlovian response to it; you're rather a fan of that specific tone. It tended to mean inventiveness.

But cautious optimism's all you allow yourself. "If you're gonna ask me to try some weirdo merging thing, the answer's still no", you make sure to specify. Mags has been banging on that door a bit too frequently for your tastes - and you still wouldn't put it past her for this whole issue of hers to have been a well-acted setup. This seems a little too convenient. "Don't push your luck. Clothes are my limit."

She soon shoots that suspicion down, though. "No, no" she assures. "I heard you the first few times." Then, with a small "hup!" she rolls herself back off of you, taking care not to drop her towel. Then she winks, standing up. "Though I'm pretty sure you'd like that, too, if you weren't so straight-laced."

"Still not happening."

"Shame. Plan b it is, then."

And, with that, your girlfriend dramatically releases her grip on her towel, allowing it to fall heavily to the floor. And, in so doing, brazenly exposing her ladyhood to you.

...

Allllllright, then.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" you finally comment. Though you only do so after a suspiciously pregnant pause. It's a rather daunting task to maintain eye contact without any accidental driftage, but you think you manage it honorably enough. Two could play the powermove game.

But "Uh huh" is Maggy's only response, clearly seeing through your feigned disinterest as she places a hand on her ample hip. She smirks a bit as she does, seemingly challenging you not to look at her nakedness. To which, of course, you reply by rapidly running your eyes up and down her body, making sure to give an intense bit of eyeball action to every relevant part. She doesn't seem to mind, though.

"So, uh", you mutter, not even bothering to make eye contact with her anymore. Her puffy pink nipples made much better conversationalists. "What, exactly, is it you have in mind for me?"

"Well, you can lose the pants, for starters."

That DOES force your eyes to temporarily bid farewell to Maggy's adorably indented navel. You shoot her a probing look; you're not entirely certain you should trust that particular request. That wasn't exactly standard operation; most people kept their clothes on for this kind of thing. Makes it easier to revert if the need arises - It's no fun to be stuck out in public without your pants on, after all. Unless you happen to be into that, anyway.

"Just listen to me, okay? I don't even know if this is gonna work. Don't make me change my mind."

But she doesn't really wait for a response, instead leaning down in front of you, doing the job of unbuckling your jeans herself. It only takes a moment for her to finish, too, at which point she removes them entirely, whisking them off of your hanging legs and dropping them unceremoniously onto the floor. The sound of your phone inside of them thumping to the floor makes you cringe a tad.

"Mind filling me in on this idea of yours?"

"Wasn't planning on it, no."

She quickly follows up the removal of your pants with a move on your shorts. Or, at least, with an attempted one. She lunges at your boxers, but you swiftly lock your knees together in response, protectively shielding your manhood. You get your hands involved in the defense, too.

"Uh-uh. You think I was born yesterday?"

Maggy glares at you for a moment, then tries to juke you, grabbing at the elastic waistband of your undies after a couple seconds of waiting. You're not about to just roll with this, though; you like to know what you're getting into before you get into it. You're adventurous, but not THAT adventurous.

"What are you looking for me to change into?" you reiterate. She ignores you for a little bit more, kneeling down to stubbornly tug on your underwear with both of her hands; after a few more failed pulls, however, she finally gives up, exasperated.

"I'm not looking for you to change at ALL," she clarifies, annoyed. "Just trust me, ok? I don't wanna force you to do something you don't want to do. And I know it's not fair of me to just make you stay here, either." Then a hint of that embarrassed hesitation returns to her. "But I'm still not about to let any...any of THEM give you anything. Or, god forbid, take anything from you. So, well, with what you said, I just thought...maybe there's something I could do about it. Like, maybe keeping you safe...myself."

Then her voice again lowers to a whisper, her cheeks reddening once more. "...se you're mine."

"What was that?" You ask. And it's kinda two different questions at once; one, you'd again missed that last bit, and two, you're still not at all grasping what she's saying. She's certainly being cryptic about it.

"Nothing. Shut up. And lose the boxers."

She tugs again - and, after momentary consideration, you allow her success, your manhood flopping out of your shorts as your girlfriend removes them as well. It's mostly erect, given the generous display of skin she's been treating you to, but you figure that's unlikely to be a problem. "Wanna steal my shirt, too?" you jokingly ask. Reckon if you're doing this, you might as well go all in. But Mags shakes her head.

"Nope. All I REALLY need from you is your cock."

Then, without even asking for permission, she leans in, opens her mouth, and engulfs your member.

You're rather taken aback by her forwardness, but you're not about to argue the point. You can already feel your dick shedding whatever bits of softness it still has as it's rapidly awoken by Maggy's unexpectedly eager lips. It's a little awkward - she's not really the most graceful of blowjob givers, even if you'd never tell her that - but she does tend to get nicely into the act, which is a definite plus. You always get a kick out of how the sidemost bits of her hair start to swing back and forth as she settles into a rhythm, too. And, of course, the deep, vibrant amber of her eyes always stands out to you whenever she starts looking up to gauge your reaction. They're damn beautiful.

That, you have told her before. When, you know, you're not getting your cock sucked.

Which, unfortunately, probably isn't the best course of action for you to be taking right now. As good as it feels, it only takes a few strokes of her lips for your erection to blossom in full - and only a few more more after that for you to feel your balls starting to tingle. You've been restraining yourself since Wednesday, after all; this wasn't exactly the type of get-together you went to on an empty tank.

"Uh, Mags", you begrudgingly interrupt, "as much as I hate to stop you, I do actually need that for later. Assuming you're planning on letting me use it."

"Mmmya", she responds, slowly allowing your cock to slide out from inside of her jaw. "Sorry." Then, after wiping an arm across her mouth, and briefly inspecting the resultant glistening spot her own drool's left upon it, she gives you your next command.

"Now lie down."

That seems reasonable enough, even if you're still not entirely sure what she's going for. You do what she asks, and prop a pillow underneath your head for a bit of support, just in case. The feel of your moistened erection bobbing stiffly as you allow yourself to settle back onto the bedding is kinda uncomfortable; you hope she has some final goal in mind for it.

"Close your eyes, too."

Still not particularly abnormal for her. She likes to hide her secrets as much as she does her problems. As requested, you lower your eyelids. There's not much danger to it; it's not like she can really pull a fast one and start dicking with your body instead. Not without you being able to at least feel it in some fashion. And you both have a pretty good sense of boundaries, either way. You can...generally trust her.

*Creeeak*

Then you feel a rather deep depression forming in the mattress underneath you. That, and the clear groan of springs under weight, gives you a decent idea of what your girlfriend's up to. The temptation to open your eyes is pretty strong, still - especially when you hear the second creak, and feel the shuffling of sheets beneath you - but you succeed in restraining yourself anyway.

"So, is this the part where I actually get told what the hell you're up to?" you again ask, nudging her for more information. Even as you feel one of her squishy thighs nudging up against your own. "'Cause I'm starting to think you're just aiming to keep me here and fuck me yourse-"

But then you gasp, your clever remark apparently not all that clever after all. As, without any semblance of warning, you feel a flush of radiant body heat warming your groin, sending electricity shooting up your spine and wrenching your eyes wide open.

As the flesh of your girlfriend's groin is suddenly lowered onto your member, the warm, mildly slickened folds of her vagina meeting the bulbous head of your cock - and swiftly parting to allow it entrance.

"Woah, hold on, girl!" you gasp out. It's all you can really achieve. This is a bit much, even for her. You two are no strangers to sex, true, but usually it's, you know, less...abrupt. You'd have appreciated a heads-up, at least. "What...whatever happened to going to...?"

But Maggy doesn't immediately respond. She's too busy gingerly lowering herself downwards, carefully sliding your shaft completely inside of herself. Raising your head disbelievingly, you can even see the folds of her labia bending obscenely outwards, accommodating your penis as her vagina engulfs you. After a moment, however, her descent ends, her ample rear comes to a bouncing stop upon your thighs, and her sexy bits mostly disappear from view as they're pressed against your skin.