10. Piper
10
PIPER
Eventually, between fucking and napping in each other’s arms, it becomes morning. I know I shouldn’t let myself fall asleep in his apartment.
I do it anyway.
Curled up against his warm chest, his semen still leaking between my legs. He purrs while we cuddle, it’s the nicest I’ve felt in a long time.
I text my friends that I am alive. They congratulate me on an evening well spent.
Ant offers me coffee, and we finally end up playing naked Duck Hunt on his vintage Nintendo. I make a joke about doggy-style, and we put that position into practice.
We play Smash Bros for a couple hours, before we smash again. I come with his dick deep inside me and his fingers working my clit.
How is this all so deeply satisfying? I don’t think this is what one-night stands are usually like, or people would do them all the time.
Ant lets me use his shower. When I get out, I snoop a bit more. Searching through his cabinets for a blow dryer. Maybe it's silly to expect a single male to have one, but he is covered in fur. I find the mother load—a fancy Dyson, with all the attachments, in a basket under his sink. I can’t just turn it on, that’d be tantamount to admitting I was snooping.
"You don't happen to have a blow dryer, do you?" I poke my head into the living room.
"Look under the sink,” he says. "I'm going to order lunch. If you want to stay for it?"
"Alright." I can't keep from grinning. I’m still drying my hair when it’s delivered, and he spreads half of the menu of a Thai restaurant across his coffee table.
“Oh shit! Is this from Thai Me Down?” I pull a floor pillow up to the coffee table. I know I should leave, but it’s a free lunch, and he’s clearly ordered more food than one Mothman could eat.
“It is.” He grins.
“How did you know?” I ask with a laugh.
“Know?”
“That their green curry is my absolute favorite food in the world?”
“Is it?” he asks quietly.
“Ugh, it’s been ages since I had Thai food!” I exclaim.
“Why’s that?”
“I’m not sure,” I lie, not willing to admit that Colin didn’t really like eating out many places. He was a steak guy. We didn't go anywhere that didn't serve a decent fillet. It was easier not to argue every time we ate out.
I pile rice and chicken high on my plate and change the subject to which Star Trek captain was the best. Then we make out while we watch Picard be hot in First Contact .
It’s all frankly wonderful, and even though I know I should be headed home, I find myself idly perusing a shelf full of his vintage games while wearing one of his old t-shirts with a college logo on it. It hangs open in the back, with a large slit cut for his wings.
“ Super Mario Bros is the first game I remember playing.” I’m talking mostly to myself as I flip over a cartridge of the game that is older than I am.
“Where did you get a copy of that?” he asks.
“My parents loved video games. They had a big collection of consoles.” When I turn to Ant he’s smiling, but his antennae droop.
“You played together? With your whole family?” Ant asks.
“Of course! Me and my siblings used to fight over who got to be Player 1. I was the oldest daughter so I only got the Player 1 controller if Paul wasn’t around. I’m still sore about it.” I grin at Ant, who’s lounging on the floor nearby while he watches me almost wistfully. Cute. He looks so fucking cute all of the time. “You played a lot growing up?”
He shakes his head.
“When my little sister started to lose her eyesight, she couldn’t play video games quite the same, but I’d read all the instructions and storylines out loud to her so she could still enjoy them with us.” I pull out a copy of Legend of Zelda, one of my favorites.
“How many siblings do you have?” he asks.
“Well, Paul’s the oldest, he’s married, with two kids. Rachel, his oldest, has a birthday tomorrow. Then it’s me. Then Paget, she’s in New Orleans finishing a graduate program for creative writing. Penny is the youngest, she’s training to become a physical therapist. We all used to love playing games together.”
“There’s four of you?” He sounds almost jealous.
“Yeah. Penny is the one who started losing her eyesight in the fourth grade. She still loves playing games, but there aren’t many with visual accessibility adaptations. We still enjoy MUDs together, and there are modifications that make some games usable for her—” A small gust of wind hits my shoulders.
When I glance up Ant has moved across the room, almost silently. His wings flex, and the wind brushes me gently.
“Sorry, I know this isn't interesting.” I laugh a little.
“I could listen to you talk all day.”
I look at the ground, trying to stop myself from laughing at his sincerity. He isn’t funny, but sometimes all of those serious emotions get turned into awkward laughter. It’s easier to laugh than it is to express my real feelings.
“Don’t you dare roll your eyes.” He menaces lightly. His hand cards into my hair and tugs my face up to look him in the eye, sending pleasant little tingles through my scalp. “I am being serious.”
“I believe you! I believe you!” I laugh and hold up my hands in surrender. His grip loosens, but his fingers stay loosely combing through my curls.
“I hadn’t really considered making gaming more accessible, until recently.” Ant's voice is quiet enough to make me want to continue.
“It’s gotten more popular since the Decrypting too. Some things just aren't built with tentacles or claws in mind. That’s what the company I founded, Penpoint Assist, focused on when we started, making gaming more accessible. We’ve expanded to other types of usability advice and improvements since then. There’s lots of little things companies and developers can do to expand usability,” I say.
“That sounds like it could be useful for everyone.” His looming presence makes me slightly self conscious, there’s a long moment of silence before he speaks again. “Would you like to play it?” He gestures to the game still clutched in my fingers.
“No thanks. I already have it at home, on a couple different platforms. You know they have it on other consoles now,” I tease. His fingers still in my hair. It’s strangely comforting. I gesture to his collection. “You don’t have to keep all these dusty old consoles around.”
“Nah. I like the dusty stuff. I like old, forgotten things.” His antennae shrug.
“Are these left over from childhood?”
He shakes his head. “I collected most of them over the past decade. I loved watching other kids play. I never got much of a chance myself.”
“You came into gaming later in life?”
“I just like getting to know more about the stuff I missed.”
“Why’d you miss out?” I let myself lean against his leg, just a little, not willing to move when he’s stroking my hair like this.
“Well, I grew up without a console, or a TV, or electricity.” He smiles while he says it, even though he is clearly sad.
I know I must not be hiding the shock from my face very well because he sighs loudly before he continues talking.
“I grew up under a bridge in West Virginia. It was a big bridge, a nice one. It used to have trains on it, although it was abandoned when I moved in. I built a cute little nest up under the tracks.”
“Right.” My stomach sinks for him. “Before the Decrypting, you wouldn’t have been allowed to talk to humans.” What a very lonely life that must have been.
He shrugs his antennae. “I got a chance to play games occasionally. I’d find an old Gameboy, or a lost DS. I usually managed to return them to their owners, but I always ran them out of batteries first.”
I giggle at the image of a small Mothman playing with his purloined handheld console. “Your whole family lived there?”
“No.” He shakes his head again, his fingers moving idly through my hair. “Mothmen fend for themselves from birth, the eggs hatch alone, I grew up alone.”
The idea is unbearably sad to me. I’m still close with my parents, and my brother and sisters. I see them most weekends. We still sometimes game together.
“So that’s what your life was before the Decrypting? Just…solitude?”
“I traveled sometimes. Visited other bridges, met another cryptid here or there, no one stuck around. If Mothmen are lucky, we find a mate, and pair off for life.”
“Lucky lady to get you for life,” I tease lightly. His fingers tighten in my hair, and my breath hitches.
“You really think so?” His wings flutter. He’s so cute. I do think he’ll make someone happy. With his gentle heart and the great sex, of course. Can you say that out loud to a one-night stand?
“Wait, then who did you watch play video games?” I ask to avoid answering his question.
“Humans. At night. Through their windows,” he admits sheepishly.
“Oh geez.” I grimace. “You spied on people?”
He fidgets. “Only sometimes. When I was really lonely.”
His voice soft and sad. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves good things.
I trace a hand up his naked thigh, enjoying the velvet texture of his skin. The urge to make him feel better inches through me. He’s naked. Somehow it feels less aggressive than human nudity when his cock has sunk back into his body. I slip a hand up to his abdomen. I want to take care of him. Make him feel appreciated, at least in this small moment.
“Piper?” His voice is quiet.
“Can I make you feel good?” I ask. “The way you do for me?”
He nods, it’s hesitant, small, and adorable.
I grin, and lean in to press a kiss against his leg, while my hands slide up stroking along his claspers. They tremble a little under my touch, but don’t unfold.
This close, I can see the small slit that hides his dick. I trace a finger down it. It pulses under my touch, like there’s something that wants to break through.
I slip a finger inside him, it’s warm and wet inside. I trace along the narrow walls and can feel the shaft of his cock, writhing just behind his outer covering.
I manage to hook a finger around him, squeezing lightly, and above me, Ant groans. Then his cock slides out—the whole long, glorious thing. Dark, thick, and slick. I loosely wrap my fingers around him, and he responds almost in turn. The prehensile member slipping through my hand and down to wrap partially around my wrist.
“Piper,” he whispers my name again, needy and low. His fingers combing through my hair.
I lean forward and kiss him on the tip. It practically leaps toward my mouth. I bite back a laugh. When I look up to catch his eyes, Ant is smiling at me.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
“Fuck. Piper. Are you going to?—”
His words cut off as I lean forward and lick him. The texture is smoother than expected, slick and soft but not slimy. The cock moves of it’s own accord in my grip, letting me know what it likes as I explore him with my tongue and lips, kissing and licking along him as he makes strange groaning noises above me. The tip is slightly bulbous, when my breath glances across it, the head moves toward me. Pressing against my lips, like it is seeking my wet heat.
“Good girl.” His voice is raspy. “You treat my cock so well.”
I lick my tongue along the bottom edge of the shaft, watching his expression through my lashes as I open my lips and let the head of his dick slip into my mouth. His eyes are locked on me, completely enrapt. His hand fisted just tight enough in my hair to let me know he’s there. Not pushing, or trying to move me, just letting me take control, as I hum around him, swirling my tongue. I cannot nearly take all of him in my mouth, I let my hands do the rest of the work, pulling and slipping around him.
“Shit. Piper. You feel so good. Letting me use your sweet, hot little mouth.”
My eyes water from the strain of my full mouth. His dick seeks to go deeper, to slip all the way down my throat. I gag a little. I have to hold his straining length back with both hands while it tries to go further than I can handle. Ant starts to pull back, but I lean forward, encouraging his head to tunnel until I find my own limit.
“Fuck. You are so good at that. My beautiful girl. You take me so well, so deep down that tight little throat.” His fingers tighten in my hair.
I can feel the purr in his chest; it affects me even sitting on the ground in front of him. I move to press my thighs together, enjoying a little bit of friction on my clit as I bob my head along his length. I grip the base of him, holding him back, and enjoying the way he strains toward me. Groaning and shuddering like I'm everything he's ever wanted.
“Wait. Piper. I’m going to?—”
Before he can finish the words he comes down my throat. Hot, wet, sticky. There’s so much of it. Too much for my unprepared throat.
I pull back with a sputtering cough. Still gripping his cock tight in my fingers. He continues coming and splashes my face, hands, and chest with hot semen.
I laugh, which it doesn’t help with the choking feeling. I cough more, trying to clear my throat so I can take a deep breath. I'm covered in sticky cum. I was trying so hard to look cool and sexy. Only to end up nearly doubled over, hacking out a lung, and completely unable to stop laughing.
“Piper! I’m so sorry!”
I shake my head, barely able to breathe through the laughter. It’s mostly my own fault. I give him a thumbs up so he knows I’m alright.
“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” He crouches beside me, one hand moves to my back. “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that.”
“It’s okay,” I say, finally sucking in a full breath of air. It’s a little flattering, and a little embarrassing. “If I were better at this, there wouldn’t be a mess.”
“Piper. You were fantastic. No one has ever—I didn’t realize it would feel so good.”
“Did I just give you your first blow-job?” I suddenly realize.
His antennae curl toward each other, and he sheepishly avoids eye contact. “It was. Let me get you a washcloth. Please. I’m so, so sorry.” He hurries to his kitchen area. I do believe it was unintentional. Some men might have lied—done it on purpose—but Ant’s honesty shines through in everything he’s said to me since we met. I’m going to choose to believe him. The Mothman’s wings flutter behind him while he fiddles in his kitchen. He’s fully naked still, and through my semen-splattered glasses, I get a glimpse of a tight fur-covered ass. I unconsciously lick my lip, catching a drop of his semen.
The sweet taste dances across my tongue. It doesn’t taste like human cum, it’s still a little salty, but sweet instead of bitter. Like honey, or salted caramel. Curious, I dip another finger into the white goo covering my cheek and slip it into my mouth. It’s pleasant, easy, and kind of…good ? ? 1 ?
Ant makes an odd noise. When I look over, he’s watching me.
“Do that again. Please?” He adds the final word as a question.
“Did you like it?” I laugh, enjoying how intrigued he is.
He nods expressively, clear effort going into the human movement.
I fight a giggle and slip another finger of his cum into my mouth. The sweet and salty flavor dances across my tongue. He groans watching me.
“You are amazing. You know that?” He’s standing in front of me now.
“I’m a mess.” I start to roll my eyes, realize my mistake, and try to turn away from him. His hand catches my chin to face him and gently swipes my cheek with a washcloth. It’s warm. He’s taken the time to let the water heat up, to make me more comfortable.
“I love the way you look, all messy, your face covered in my cum.” His eyes are somewhere else for a moment, and in a quick movement, he’s lifted me up into his arms so my legs wrap around his waist. “In my arms, in my shirt, with my cum on you.”
“Maybe I could use your shower? In your bathroom. To clean your cum, off my face?” I smile, still feeling sheepish when I slip my arms around his neck.
“Let me clean you up,” he murmurs as he carries me to his bed. I lose his shirt somewhere along the way. He drops me fully naked into his sheets and continues wiping, cleaning off delicate parts of me that don’t even need to be cleaned. The nape of my neck, over my chest, down to the soft skin on my inner thighs, leaving little goosebumps in its wake as it cools. He dips his face into my neck, his breath hot where the skin is still damp. A gentle lick, a kiss.
“You taste almost as good as you smell,” he says in a breath.
“I smell good?”
“So very, very good.” He grunts a response. I reach up unconsciously, to trace fingers along his cheek. One of his mandibles grips at my hand. Then the sides of my breasts, the curve of my hip, the strip of thigh between my legs, until I am wet, not just from the washcloth, and he puts his mouth between my legs. It doesn’t take long until I am the one coming all over his face, and he is preening, pleased with his actions.
I’ve never had a one-night stand before. I don’t think it's common for them to last for nearly thirty-six hours straight, but Ant easily convinces me to stay the night again by fucking me into oblivion, then curling around me purring. It’s easy to sleep pressed against his chest. So much easier than in my own empty bed.
When Sunday morning rolls around, I really have to leave what I’m certain has been the most enjoyable one-night stand in existence. I know it’s illogical that part of me wants to stay here in our little sex nest forever. Ignoring the entire world, and the fact that I don’t have any clean underwear.
The idea of never seeing him again, walking away from him forever, has my heart twisting in my chest. I know what our arrangement was, still my stupid heart can't help wondering if he might entertain a different agreement.
1 ? I’d give so much more head if semen tasted better.