My name's Oculus.
Maybe some of you may know me as "Morphy," or "Oc," or maybe some other nickname you've seen me get called by. Point is, I'm pretty much famous now. That very first time I played guitar in that closed karaoke place at the mall really made me think. And so I thought all the way back to that very moment.
"What if I became famous?"
There it was. The money question to end all money questions. And I really thought that one question would just pass me by; never cross my mind ever again. Turns out, I was sorely mistaken. I found myself being completely swept off my feet, and then airdropped into some super-charged crowd surf.
That was the very thought that changed my life.
I cut my hair again and dyed it black, which, kind of made my look a bit more memorable. I finally felt special. I finally felt like I had a purpose in life other than being this himbo-ish doormat. It was... a rush. Completely changed the way I looked at life. Instead of looking at it like "please don't let me make anyone upset," I started looking at it like, "let bygones be bygones. YOLO, bitches"! It felt amazing.
And yet I'm still living in the same apartment.
I looked up from my phone as I gazed upon the empty couches, realizing now that I was home alone again. Something told me I wasn't entirely, however, as I heard footsteps echoing through the corridor. I found myself not having to leave the comfort of the recliner, since I saw Pentagon peer his head around the corner.
"Aw, I keep missin' em!" He groaned, storming over to where I was in the living room and finagling his way onto the recliner right up against me. It was obviously a one person seat, but I didn't mind Pentagon clearly disregarding that fact. He was the type of guy that didn't like to play by the rules.
Even if those rules happened to be common courtesy.
But I digress.
Now, I realize that I have yet to tell all of you why I'm writing this, right now. Well, I feel like every famous person should have some sort of special recipe for whatever they like, right? It shows their sensitive side; it shows that every single celebrity you see is just a regular creature, just like you and me. That behind all that glitter and gold and crap, they actually have some pretty normal passions.
So, what better to showcase that than to show you my own personal recipe?
Cherry Cream Pie.
It's my favorite kind of dessert. One that doesn't need very many things to prepare, but one of the main, key ingredients is time, love, and patience.
So today, I'm gonna show you all how to make the perfect Cherry Cream Pie.
The first step, and possibly the easiest; you have to soften up your cherries. They need to be nice and vulnerable, easy to bake, y'know? If you don't soften up your cherries, it's going to make the last step more complex than it probably needs to be, alright?
Pentagon looks me in the eye, chin in his right palm with his elbow keeping straight, resting on the arm rest on his side. I realize this and stare right back into his inviting, glowing, rose pink, compound eyes, a flirtatious look in my own. "Heyyy," I say, my voice naturally deeper than its usual tone. Pentagon blinks, eyebrows raised.
"Hey...?" He says back, a questioning tone in his voice.
Now, cherries aren't really that easy to soften, if you think about it. Not without crushing some, and we don't want to crush any. That'll mess up the entire process, and it'll take a few hours, or maybe even days for the new cherries to start growing. We don't want that; this is the best opportunity we have. For now, we don't want to apply too much pressure to our cherries- we just want to gently guide them into softening up a little.
So, to do this, I let out a low chuckle, followed by a small, playful smirk. Pressing my body closer to his, I lean forward, gently pressing my forhead against his horn while I softly gripped his ears. I could feel his face heating up a little bit. Now, the cherries were starting the softening process.
"I'm bored," I say one more time, voice as low and sensual as it could get. I put a hand on my partner's hips, gently palming at his sides. Pentagon looked at me, now seeming to catch on.
"That bored?"
His eyes are half lidded to match mine, which kept flickering back and forth; to Pentagon's flirtatious gaze, and then to his hips, which I kept feeling around through his wrinkly, grey shirt. It looks really comfortable on him, I can't lie. And it's especially comforting to feel his curves through his clothing.
Pentagon isn't the thickest snicker in the bakery, but he's no flat-ass. Really, it's true. It's nice, and firm, and I dream about it every single night I'm not deep inside. Really, I do.
I feel him pull my head forward, forcefully pressing his lips onto mine. Now, the cherries were getting softer by the minute- ain't it fascinating how that works?
I stop thinking as he finally locks lips with me, forcing his tongue through my teeth and pushing his own head forward. His low, soft moan echoes in my head as we're making out, and my heart begins racing as he puts his hand on my chest, pressing firmly on my upper body muscles. Suddenly, I'm glad the recliner was such a cramped space; it helped us better press our bodies together even more, falling into each other's embrace.
My hand subconsciously breaches the rim of Pentagon's loose basketball shorts, pinching through the folds of his boxers and feeling all over his bare backside. Like I said, those two voluptuous mounds were a sexually charged dream. If I had the given opportunity, I'd just play with his ass-cheeks all day.
Then, I realize we're still on the recliner. I pull back, eyes finally opened as my breathing obscures. "You wanna head to bed early?" I ask, still gripping my hands around those beautiful mounds of red flesh. I feel Pentagon's own hot breath on my lips.
"Yeah," he replies, biting his lip as he caresses my right shoulder. "I can't wait to have you inside me..."
That last remark made something rise up inside me. Not sure if it was sexual desire, or just the raging, no longer flaccid boy in the crotch of my sweatpants. I think both of those would qualify as the same thing, no?
Either way, I stand up. I think Pentagon notices the slightly bigger bulge in my pants, as he puts on a smug grin. "Looks like you can't wait either." I chuckle at his seductive quip, leaning forward and pinning him to the recliner. My waist feels restricted, as he now had wrapped his legs around my hips in a tight embrace. He put his arms around me as well, giving me the signal to pick up my precious cargo and haul it back to the bedroom.
Well, one of them.
Pentagon and I didn't exactly share a bedroom at the moment, and due to the fact, I'd much rather have sexual relations in Pentagon's room. What? His sheets are pretty comfy. I'm not saying I complain about the state of my sheets right now; but I'm not the one who makes my bed every morning.
Plus, Pentagon's room has this really... horny vibe to it. Is it just me?
Probably.
Just so that the cherries don't firm up again too quickly (don't question it; they will if you're not careful), I carry Pentagon to his own bedroom, gripping at his firm behind and making sure I had the proper leverage to keep going. As I book it through the corridor, Pentagon plants soft, sensual kisses on my neck, tugging at the back of my shirt collar.
He wants me to hurry. I can already tell.
By the time we're at the room, I kick the door closed behind me and gently set Pentagon on the bed, pressing my lips on his neck and trailing down to his fabric-covered chest. I hear him coo softly in response to my slow, careful movement, and it makes me kiss harder and increase the pressure.
Now that the cherries are soft, it's time to prepare the foundation of the pie.
Now, this step is going to be a little bit more complex, but don't worry. It gets easier in the end, and it's not so hard to replicate as it may seem.
Trailing both my hands down his sides, I slowly begin to pinch at the lower folds of his shirt. I look from the position of my hands up to Pentagon, whose breathing was pretty rigid, but hot nonetheless. He stared down at me as I started lifting his shirt, slowly exposing his lower abdomen. His stomach may not be as toned as mine is, but suffice to say Pentagon has a pretty flat tummy.
As I press my muzzle on his sensitive spots, Pentagon begins to do the rest of the work with fully taking his shirt off. Now, that's half of his body I wanna see. For right now, we have to unlock the goods if we really wanna fully prepare the crust of this pie.
Standing up straight and then bending over once again, I pin Pentagon to the bed and fiercly lock lips with him once more. Once again, I hear his gentle moans echoing in my head, tainting my thoughts with what would go on sooner or later. He tugs at the bottom of my shirt as well, and I pull back, allowing him the force and momentum to eventually tear my shirt off as well.
Now we're both half naked.
I grab his neck, but not too hard. I don't want to actually end up strangling him, or something. Bucking my hips forward, I feel my erection gently grazing his lucious lumps. And now I want more. I pull back from the energetic kiss, planting even more kisses on his neck once again as I press my right hand on his waist, urging him to turn over.
He seems to get the message, turning over with his back arched and giving me the best view of his perfectly shaped ass-cheeks through those flexible shorts of his. His legs're spread a little as well, and judging by the nearly hanging bulge in his crotch that juices were perfectly pumping through his groin and rushing to his glands.
He slowly sways his hips, and my eyes seem to follow. Deep down, I think he knows what kind of effect his body has on me. The way I think about it all the time. The way my eyes are following his tight ass right now.
But I don't think he fully gets it.
Pushing forwards, I rub my hand hard and lovingly in between his cheeks through the fabric of his shorts. By the way he gyrates in response, I think he's enjoying it. I see him bend over more, gripping one of his soft, white, cotton pillows and resting his head on top of it with his arms folded underneath. I pinch at his shorts, slowly pulling them down along with his underwear.
I can finally see where those two, red-chitined mountains part ways, and under those are a slighty darker red pair of testes. I pull down his shorts even further to reveal a decently sized, fully erect, pulsing red member. He isn't exactly as big as me, but hey, that's why he's a bottom, right?
Grabbing his ass and delivering a hard smack to his right cheek, I quickly force my muzzle in between the two flesh mounds of his femboy posterior.
"Unh! F-Fuck!" I hear him moan loudly at my quick-spirited actions, arching his back further as he pushed back. He made the hottest noises.
This is where the TLC is gonna come in.
Emphasis on the Come in.
I use my long, forked tongue (changeling thing, heh) to dig him out, slurping my tongue in and out of his juicy manhole. He let a throaty moan out into the pillow, and the only reason I can hear it was because it's the most passionate, loud moan I've heard from him yet. Wait, did I mention his adorable O Faces?
Pulling out from in between his buns, I kiss on one of his cheeks, gently smooching and nipping at his skin.
"Ah...."
I hear him once again up front, reveling in how good I'm treating him.
Chuckling in sight of victory, I stand up, palming one of his plump ass cheeks and giving it another hard slap.
"Mmm! Fuck!"
See? I told you. Adorable.
Then, I reach for my own pants, thumb rimming the outer folds of my sweatpants and touching down on the rock hard boy underneath. Pentagon slowly sways his hips again for a reason I can assume is getting ready for the hard pounding he's about to endure.
I really don't blame him.
Licking my lips as I kneel onto the bed with both knees and pull my sweatpants down, I start massaging my own bulge with one hand as I palm Pentagon's posterior with the other. He sways his hips once more, groin wanting and expecting for me to rail him right then and there. Now's probably the time I should demonstrate;
How to properly batter your cherries.
Of course, I said we needed them soft, am I right? Of course we couldn't crush the cherries on the first go; that would completely ruin the whole TLC process. Okay, okay, I get it. I added one whole extra step- why would I do that?
Trust me, it'll all be worth the while.
Following the quick tugging off of my boxers, my ten inch, dark grey meat stick began to surface. Heheh, impressive, huh?
I gotta admit, I was already leaking a little bit. But that wasn't about to stop me from perfecting this Cherry Cream Pie. So using both my left and right hands, I gripped both Pentagon's ass cheeks and spread them lightly, revealing his plump, juicy manhole once again. My pulsing prick quivered at the sight of it, welcoming, tight, and more importantly, so, so right.
For the first time, I felt like I had finally returned to my destined home as I lifted my legnth, pressing and rubbing it onto the warm, pink flesh hole. Pentagon grips harder onto the pillow, and I can hear his soft, strained moans from back here.
Then, I finally give him what he was waiting for.
I push my hips forward slowly, along with my hand to guide my stiff, grey member into the waiting folds of Pentagon's backside. As I finally breached the surface, he pushed back into me, getting my sex to breach all his tightest spaces.
I gripped his ass tighter, loving the feeling of his bare back filling my palms as I bucked my hips forward some more. "Ah... ah.... yes..." I heard him breathe, pounding my groin into his backside. As seconds began passing, I sped up, the wet slapping of my sack against his lower half filling the room almost as much as Pentagon's hearty cries.
My own breath became heavy as sweat started beading on my forehead, trickling down my neck, chest, and stomach and down to my pulsing meat stick, and it made everything all the more slipperier. Was that a word?
I gave his rear end another hard slap as I continued to rail him deeply, and he let out another raunchy cry in response.
My body cried out for me to get some more of him, and fast, aching but wanting at the same time. Pentagon continued pushing up against me, which created more of a double-whammy effect on his begging ass.
The slapping grew louder and way more frequent, becoming wetter and wetter as the both of us continued to perspire heavily in the heat of the moment. I see Pentagon look back at me, tongue lolling from his maw and producing stringy, hot saliva that dripped onto the sheets along with his fresh pre.
Didn't I say he made the most adorable O Faces?
Feeling something building up more and more rapidly inside me, I quickly use my left hand to grab Pentagon by the gossammer on the back of his head, pushing harder into his backside to my member's fully extent. As I pulled on his frill, I felt a great pressure suddenly burst free.
And gush inside of him.
"O-Oculus!! Ah!!!"
He came onto the sheets as well, spraying his spunk all over the covers.
Breathing heavily, I pulled out, the cold air surrounding my juice-covered member not nearly as welcoming as Pentagon's sweet sanctuary. Leaning foward, I placed my hands on both Pentagon's cheeks again, slowly parting them with my thumbs and revealing the white, creamy liquid dripping from his cavernous manhole.
Now that is how you make a Cherry Cream Pie.
