The New Girl Ch. 05

Freya continues to hold my chin, to run her thumb across my lips, as I take hold of her flaccid cock and barely manage to scoop up her fat balls. Lifting them, her nuts sag over my hand -- with their sheer size, her scrotum is easier to grip -- but I do manage to get a good look at my reward for winning. In fact, I'm stunned, stopped dead in my tracks.

'Well?' Freya says. 'Are you going to just stare?'

Surprise, surprise. Freya's pussy is beautiful. I suppose given her odd physiology it makes sense that there's no hair here, but the bronze skin is a constant, changing to the prettiest of pinks where it meets her faintly puffy lips. It's practically something out of porn, neat and photogenic, suiting the rest of her.

'God...you're mad hot.'

She chuckles and gives me this playful pseudo-slap which becomes a stroking of my cheek. 'You're the first boy to actually be looking at it. I hope you realise how big of a deal that is.'

I nod awkwardly, stupidly. 'Y-eah. Thank you.'

Freya inches her hips forwards, angling her crotch a bit more upwards. The cleft of her plump buttocks is obvious now, the tiny distance between her pretty cooch and the neat dark pink of her arsehole impossible to ignore.

'Go on,' she says, a note breathily. 'Make me feel good. Do your job.'

It's all she has to say. All I care about doing, in the heat of the moment.

I drop my head and push up on her junk, keeping them out of the way. Freya's smells are strong, vaguely tangy, this thick muskiness that makes sense given her sheer potency. The heat grows smothering as I inch closer and closer to the prize, a welcome and pleasant feeling of engulfment. Her neat folds make a pretty shape around the top of her vulva, a faint bulge outlining her womanly pearl.

The smell makes me salivate. It's a good smell, a clean smell, if faintly tinged by the sweat of the day. So long as it's Freya's sweat, I don't care. So long as it's her I'm dirtying myself for.

She makes a weird sound, a distinct type of moan, when I kiss the puffiness of her outer lips. It's almost cute, weaker, not her usual -- still-feminine -- grunting or groaning. Her shyness around this is actually really, really sweet. I'm struck by a powerful urge to really make this mind-blowing, to ensure she doesn't regret it.

I am a lucky bastard.

'Mhm. Keep kissing,' Freya says. 'And I'll handle the dangling bits.'

One of her hands takes away her fat balls and the other takes away her cock, leaving me to focus on her lady parts. I eagerly put my hands on each of her full thighs, the smooth skin such a pleasant resistance, soft and giving against my palms and fingers. Happily, I kiss the puffy lips, the bronze skin, teasing at the demarcation between tan flesh and pristine pinkness.

That musky girly scent fills my nose, and I want nothing more than to taste her, but I do as she says. It feels ever so good to press my lips to her lower ones, to lick mine and taste residual hints of this salty tanginess, this newfound flavour of the woman I am falling madly for despite the asymmetry of whatever this relationship happens to be.

'Like that, bitch. Kiss away. Kiss the thing you'll never get to fuck.'

Dirty words that create dirty thoughts. Her meanness is a sweetness of its own, and such insults from her lips are music to me. My tongue inevitably slips out, the kiss becoming passionate, like snogging a lover.

'Oh, shit. Fuck.'

The incredibly velvety wet softness of her inner lips meets my tongue, and I'm smitten. Her taste is strong but clean, salty and tangy, not at all unpleasant. There's movement above my head but I don't pay it any notice, too lost in the gentle exploration of her beautiful vulva with my eager tongue.

It's such an interesting place, so new to me. The smells and the warmth and the taste of it. These textures, such silken skin contrasting with the firmness of the outer skin, and the way that every single shift of my tongue or my breathing provokes gentle sounds from the gorgeous Amazonian who dominates my thoughts with or without words.

'Schlup. Mhm-hm.'

I take a slight looseness of inner lip between my lips and tease it with my tongue, then kiss and smooch her opening, producing slick noises in the process. Freya's hand finds my head, her fingers tracing circles and patterns of indistinct purpose on my scalp through my hair. I'm instantly aware of the weight and heat of her heavy balls, which begin to gently bounce up and down just above my forehead.

'Don't stop,' Freya says. 'All that matters is--ugh--making me happy. That's all you're good for. All you need to do. Just serve me, like the object you are. Like the property you are.'

The sloppy sounds of my lips are joined by the slick fapping noise of her masturbating, stroking her monster cock above my head. I realise that I've no idea how this all works. If I make her cum with her pussy, does her dick cum too? Or is she just ensuring that the two line up?

I'm all-too-aware of how messy Freya's ejaculations are. The load that -- had this been any other day -- would've ended up in my backside is still churning around in those bloated bronze lumps that are bouncing about on my head. And if she cums...

...but I push down the worry. What happens, happens.

I just...I just need to make her happy. That's my job. That's what I love doing.

So I ignore the fapping sound and the weight of her nuts, and instead run my tongue up along the inside of her cooch. The pretty lips part and shiver around my tongue, glazing my tastebuds with her womanly nectar, a little sweet to go with the salty tang. Freya continues to moan, to tussle my hair with her playful fingers.

'Mhm. Go on. You're--ughn--doing so well.'

Her pleasure urges me forwards. I press my lips to the opening of her pussy and extend my tongue, digging it into that hole that I would so love to penetrate but perhaps -- if I take Freya at her word -- will never feel around my cock. My tongue instead is clenched around, velvet wet skin engulfing it and bathing it in that sweet nectar, the salt and tanginess growing stronger as well.

'That's it, bitch. You slut. Oh, fuck.'

'Schlup. Slurp.'

I thrust my tongue as best I can, punching it in and out, rolling it around, making patterns of irregular nature. Freya trembles against my hands, squeezes herself down on my tongue. Her breathing quickens and she digs her fingers into my hair.

'I...I got an idea,' she says. 'Up. Get your head up. Come up for air.'

Freya seizes me by the back of my head, tugging on my hair. Her easy strength and my own obedient retreat make the process smooth and before I know it I'm sitting back on my haunches, one of her hands atop my skull, the other madly stroking her thick bronze serpent. For the first time I'm face-to-face with it, another penis, something hugely thick and long and veiny.

Her glans is out, a shiny pink helmet with a singular eye staring at my face, angled to be a little above my nose. God, it's fucking big. Almost...almost sexy, how powerful it looks. Something about it is weirdly appetising. Suckable.

Where...where is my head going?

'Head back,' Freya says, commanding in tone. 'Eyes shut. Stick out your tongue.'

I know instantly what she's doing. I'm a man, I know how this works. 'Freya...'

'Do it. Do it for me. Let me mark you.' Her stare is beautiful, terrible. 'You belong to me. I can do with you what I want, so do what I say. Head back. Eyes shut. Tongue out as far as you can stick it.'

Maybe before all of this, I would've frantically resisted. Before she took me from behind in that changing room. I'd have screamed and ran, terrified. But I'm not who I was. For the better? I think so, but still.

I'm...I'm actually weirdly excited, even though I know what's going to happen.

I go with the push of her hand, shutting my eyes. Freya angles me how she wants me and pushes herself up from the seat, rising before my face. My hands are still on her thighs as I stick out my tongue, mouth slightly ajar. In some dirty primal instinct, I widen it, make an easy target for what's about to blow out of her cock.

'You're such a filthy fucking slut,' she says, chuckling, then groaning. 'But--ugh--you're my fucking--mhm--slut!

She brings a hot, slick, throbbing shape down upon the tip of my tongue. I have no time to feel it out, to make sense of it beyond its weight and bulk and heat before my dutiful tongue is covered by a spurt of something hot and gooey. Freya grunts, almost primal, turning even my momentary victory into an assertion of her superiority.

'Ugh. Fuck!'

She deposits another heavy shot upon my tastebuds and then slaps my cheek with her weapon, spraying a rope of dick-milk across my left eye. Holy shit, I've never been so turned on without her cock being inside of me. The heat which she covers my face with splatters across my eye socket, and then upon my forehead. It's insanely erotic.

And...and the stuff on my tongue -- Freya's semen -- tastes like...like not what I expected. I don't even realise I'm doing it, but I slide my tongue back inside my mouth and start to chew on the thick nut-cream, rolling it around, doing my utmost to taste her faintly sweet, quite salty spooge. God, it's thick like cream. God, it tastes so dirtily wonderful.

'Ughn. Take it. Stink of my fucking load, you dirty slut.'

Freya paints my face, dropping ropes and shots all across my cheeks and forehead, over my closed lips, not remarking on the fact that I've hidden my tongue. Her jizz is all sticky and chewy in my mouth, clinging and tangling, but I manage to gulp down her weirdly delicious flavour and then lick the stuff from my lips.

'God, you're fucking great, she says, and my heart flutters. 'You're such a good bitch-boy.'

'Mhm-hm.'

She laughs as she slaps her dick against my face, against my mouth when I clean my lips. Freya shoots a little more across me and then lets out this magnanimous sigh, slapping her cock against my lips again. 'I bet you want to eat all that cream, huh?'

In my stupor, shameless, I nod.

Freya clicks her teeth. 'Not today. Today, you're going to wipe it off, and you're not going to wash your face for the whole weekend. I want to sniff you on Monday and if you don't stink of my jizz, then I won't fuck your arse for a whole month. Got it?'

I nod again, more frantic.

'Let's go clean you up. And don't you dare try eat even a little more, you filthy fucking bitch. Today's just been a taster. I'll...I'll train you how to get it the proper way.'

I'm smiling as she grabs me by the back of the throat, helping me on my feet with her other hand. My brain is a mess. My cock is sore with need. I stink of thick, musky, potent seed.

But...Freya's marked me.

I am her property, aren't I?

God, it feels like it. Feels fucking good.

*

She's gentle in the way she wipes my face, only with tissues.

Periodically Freya will lean in and sniff me, and once my eyes are free I get a good look at her face during those moments. The sheerest of glee crosses her gorgeousness, something that makes me feel hot and bothered, desired as I've never been. By the end of the process she's simply stroking my hair, playing with it.

'Tom,' Freya says, cupping my chin. 'Here.'

She pulls me in close, until our lips are tangled. Her kiss is forceful, passionate, a series of efforts to dominate my mouth with hers. Freya's tongue fights with mine and flattens it, and she tastes my teeth, my cheeks, and explores my mouth with every motion of her sweet-tasting pinkness. I swallow her spit, eager to taste her.

For the first time, in some mad bid of courage, I bring my hands up to her breasts. I need to touch them, need to hold them, even if only through her shirt. Freya's response is to break the kiss, but she's smiling.

'Next time,' she says. 'But you can squeeze them a bit through my shirt.'

'You're so perfect,' I say, smitten, love-mad. Her breasts are so full, so heavy even with her bra and clothing upon them. Big warm squishy things, fingers finding faint firmness beneath the exterior as I gently dig in my hands.

'Don't get all loser on me, slut.' But she kisses my mouth again, all the same. 'I better get you home. Remember: no washing that face. I mean it.'

I nod, and smile. 'I won't. I promise.'

One last kiss, a fierce and possessive thing, one of her hands on my chest and the other behind my head. 'Good,' Freya says. 'You know your place.'

We don't talk much on the way back. I've got this dumb smile on, no doubt, and Freya is comfortable with the silence. We're both riding on a high, I suppose. Weird as she goes about it, there's something good here between us.

I lean in to kiss her when she stops outside my house and Freya doesn't hold back. God, it's so good to kiss her. To taste her sweet mouth and smell her bubble-gum aura and touch her face while she touches mine.

I lay up that night, smelling her dangerously pleasant load whenever I make an effort to sniff it out. There's the faint worry that someone else will smell it on me, but the more important thing is what it represents. The more important thing is that, strange as this relationship with Freya is, I wouldn't have it otherwise. She's blown my world wide-open.

Is this my life, now? Freya's bitch-boy, her fuck-slut pet? Her...her boyfriend?

Having it be this way would've worried me before. Now it makes me smile, and stroke myself off into merciful release, to imagine all the pleasure we've shared up until now, and all the pleasure we're yet to share.

Roll-on Monday.