- back
Woke up and went about like normal, this morning: sun's up and I woke a time or two earlier, so it must be day now, don't bother checking the time. Wipe my face with my palms, flip around a bit to calibrate the senses, consider getting dressed - nah. That can wait.
Bare in the bed I didn't have any particular memory of the night before. It's not that I couldn't have, if I'd tried; but why try? Every day is a new day.
I flipped the laptop open and hopped online. Couple notifications here and there, but nothing of note; scratch those off and the calendar's clear. Wave hi to a friend - some new art, maybe following a conversation they shared with one of us earlier, compliment them on that - ramble with another friend about Sonic series lore in the music wiki chat, why not. A good, calm time.
But it's the day, dammit. Gotta get up eventually.
What to wear? Brown sweater - that's mine - an Surge's pants, why not. We'd haggled some of her feelings a minute ago anyway. Dressed in just a moment, but it's a dressing in our moment.
Head out the room and turns out others are up already. Wave g'morning, see if all's well - well, it is, so that's that. Shaving's an everyday bother; have to brush teeth and that, anyway.
Off the toilet a moment later. Set the tap, wash my hands.
The hot water runs off, slick. Too slick.
I smile beside myself.
That's Tangle's cum. Ridiculous is about all I think, because the image is as clear as any, but it's third-person now.
It's late at night and time for bed - but the others next door won't sleep, dang it! What's with that? Yes they share a video everynight, but does a fifteen minute video have to take forty? Well whatevs, she admits, probably hasn't been that long anyway. Thank god the shirt's off, anyway.
She's got a model in her head because she's thinking about her body. Her boobs don't ache but they sure did fifteen going on forty minutes ago. She's pent up and she likes it. (Would be sweet if the others were asleep, though.)
Something hits her funny: there's sort of an inevitable traversal when she finishes, isn't there? Well not really - not when she can hit her peak before her body catches up - but that's a detail she doesn't need right now. Her body is caught up. She wants to imagine.
If her configuration were a little different - a little more like that image of her, the one she feels is her, the one whose misalignments feel like her misalignments - she could get her shorts all wet. She could think about someone near and dear and taunt herself and mess her clothes about it.
Stark naked, she isn't even wearing shorts. She hardly ever wears shorts. Doesn't matter. She wants Whisper to tell she's stained her shorts.
Roll my own eyes, pleased.
I'm washing someone else's cum off, someone who wasn't even thinking about me, someone who came for another at my side.
Both of them right around me, if I think about it. Or maybe they're still cuddling, asleep. Who could say?
My hands are her hands too, I suppose, as I shave and set myself for the rest of this day.